50 Shades of... WHAT?!?

There’s been a whole lot of hype about the new 50 Shades of Grey movie coming out. As there should be! So many celebrities are talking about it! So many married women have already posted that they’ll be waiting in line on the day that movie comes out! It’s going to be fantastic! So much nakedness, whipping, baby oil, and downright SEX! Why would you NOT go?! The thing is going to be graphic!!!

Obviously I’m being sarcastic.

The best part is that this movie comes out on Valentine’s Day. I’m not going to lie, I’ve spent some time imagining who’s going to be standing in line. Are the women with husbands going alone? Or are they dragging along their husbands to give him a little show-and-tell lesson about how they would like to be sexually abused after getting the children fed, bathed, and clothed every night. “After the kiddos go down, Hubby, I want you to pull out the blindfold and rope and just have at me, babe.” Nothing says “hot” like forced, humiliating sex. (I’m sorry, but 80% of women are already complaining that their husbands want to have sex too often. Why the double standard, ladies?)

No, I don’t see solid married couples standing in line for this one together. Let’s be honest. In this line you’re going to have a bunch of women standing alone. The single women are desperate. The married women are too. But what are they desperate for, exactly?

And I’m sorry. There’s another category of people in line for the movie, before I go on. They’re men who are porn addicts, looking to get off on yet another woman suffering at the hands of a “powerful” man, who just loves him and could wish for nothing more than to have a belt lashed across her back prior to being raped. Most porn addicts can’t stand for the story lines, though. They want their aggressive sex quick and now, so they can get off and carry on their way. That’s why I think most of the people in line are going to be women. Because porn, for women, HAS to have a story line so she can enjoy it emotionally, too. (Women are such emotional creatures.) (And I feel no remorse for saying that condescendingly, because that’s what women want, right? To be treated like they are inferior to men?)

It confuses me that while women are pushing for this entertainment, which is as soul-warming as it is family-friendly, the same women are also pushing for women’s rights, and getting all worked up over a man shooting up people in California, targeting women, specifically. So women don’t think they should be shot, but they do think they should enjoy being manipulated into submissive/dominant sexual relationships? I’m sorry. Feminism? Are you dead? What happened to “We Can Do It”?

(You’re not getting away with tying that girl up, blindfolding her, and whipping her. Beg pardon. That’s feminism. It’s about love of women.)

So many double standards! So many conflicting messages! What do women want? (No wonder men are confused!!)

A look at popular entertainment, today, is going to show you the same story. You’ll have a song by Taylor Swift, bemoaning how men don’t care about how she feels, blah blah blah. Men aren’t sensitive. Men aren’t loving. But then you’ll get a song by Rihanna, outrageously popular, with lovely lyrics, like:

                “Now there’s gravel in our voices

                Glass is shattered from the fight

                In this tug of war you’ll always win

                Even when I’m right

                ‘Cause you feed me fables from your hand

                With violent words and empty threats

                And it’s sick that all these battles

                Are what keeps me satisfied

                Just gonna stand there and watch me burn

                But that’s all right because I like the way it hurts

                Just gonna stand there and hear me cry

                Well that’s all right because I love the way you lie.”

Now that’s a woman who knows how to stand up for herself and be respected… No. That’s a masochist woman who enjoys domestic violence, being manipulated, and emotional abuse. Did she even stay with Chris Brown? Anyway.

These are songs we listen to. Just yesterday I caught myself singing along to one of the only country songs I can stand, that I love, and realized what I was singing.

                “…Closes the door before the winter lets the cold in

                And wonders if her love is strong enough to make him stay,

                She’s answered by the tail lights shining through the window pane…

                He said I wanna see you again

                But I’m stuck in colder weather

                Maybe tomorrow will be better

                Can I call you then?

                …You’re a lover – I’m a runner

                And we go ‘round ‘n ‘round

                And I love you but I leave you

                I don’t want you but I need you…

                I ain’t ever gonna change

                I got a gypsy soul to blame

                And I was born for leavin’

                …But I know soon we’ll be together

                And I can’t wait ‘til then”

Another great example of a man who has no commitment issues whatsoever, and the adoring woman who apparently is willing to put up with that crap and take him back time and time again. And we call this a love song!

Do women want to be strung along? Do women want to beaten and abused? Or, in classic Jane Austen style, do women want to be pampered?

I think it comes down to being pursued. Women want to be irreplaceable. They want to be needed. This is basic psychology. Women will fill practically any hole they can, so that they can feel important and valuable to the men in their lives. So if you lose the traditional morals of a Jane Austen society, where women were desirable for being delicate, modest women, your women are going to start looking to be desirable in the way that society tells them they need to be today. Porn stars. (*Achoo!* Sorry! Did I jump on that one a little too fast?)

50 Shades of Grey is the tragic tale of a filthy rich Playboy who happens to have a history of sexual abuse himself. (I’ve not read the book, so don’t stone me if I’m wrong. I just read that in a review.) You have this tortured soul of a man who equates fulfillment and power for himself with the ability to abuse others – in this case a virgin woman. And she accepts that role. Why? Because she’s manipulated into believing that she’s needed. She’s pursued. He sends her gifts, he leads her on. He makes her feel important. There is obviously a power imbalance, which existed long before he even asked her to sign a contract stating that he would be the dominant one in the relationship. Our main character is a young girl with no experience in the world. He is a rich business man. She’s completely clueless. He seems to know everything, and is polite enough to allow her to have experiences with him, which will teach her. (There’s a lovely article which describes the relationship as one of a child sexual offender, and a child victim. And yeah. I like it! http://www.drjudithreisman.com/archives/2013/03/50_shades_of_gr.html.) As someone who interned with a facility which did forensic interviewing, or interviewing of children who had been sexually abused, the pattern IS clear. This storyline has grooming and abuse written all over it.

As a professional in the mental health arena, it’s concerning to me how willing women are to accept these deviant forms of intimacy. (It’s concerning anyone does, but let’s focus.) Women are willing to accept more and more pornographic displays of intimacy – whether self-imposed or other. These pornographic displays only feel normal to those with pornographic pasts, of addiction or abuse. These are not natural displays of intimate affection. I’m sorry, but Adam didn’t approach Eve in the garden and say, “Hey Baby. Is it okay if I whip you first?” (And she most certainly didn’t say “Yes.”) That’s animalistic. That’s freaking bed bug territory! (See http://www.lastwordonnothing.com/2012/07/27/tgipf-the-bed-bug-and-his-violent-penis/, or “Traumatic Insemination” on Wikipedia.) You would hope that homo sapiens were above that, what, with the need to maintain and sustain our family units, values, and all of that. (I hope…)

The fact that we have so many women who want to see 50 Shades of Gray only tells me how widespread sexual deviancy is, and how low our values have slid, in terms of honest, heartfelt expressions of love. If these movie-goers are not addicted to porn themselves, they’ve likely had relationships of abuse in the past, which have taught them that such violent displays are expressions of love. They’re physically and emotionally confused. They are sick.

Now, some may argue that I certainly make a lot of claims for someone who’s never read the book. And I must admit that it is true, I haven’t read it. But… I did watch the movie trailer. I embarrassedly admitted this to my husband, while asking him not to judge me. I watched it in a spirit of cold analysis – which, of course, included my own snarky comments. The trailer didn’t turn me on. It actually made me pretty pissed off.

My initial impression of the female character, Anastasia, was that she looked like she had a social phobia or disorder of some kind. Low self-esteem, for sure. As I wrote, “Patient presents with downcast eyes, holding herself in an anxious, intimidated manner.” Yes, to me she presented as a child.

Christian Grey, the main macho character, and abuser, is shown as being classically “intimidating.” Powerful frame, the picture is foggy, you see his fingers tapping the arm of his chair in a calculating manner. “But what about you?” he says to Anastasia, who is interviewing him. “I’d like to know more about you.”  

Well that’s women porn right there! That’s all women want to hear! You mean, you actually… care… about me? Yes, yes. He’s grooming you, dear. Pretty soon he’s going to start sending you expensive gifts. Back to the trailer.

This all feels very Twilight to me. (Did you know the author based 50 Shades of Grey off of Twilight? True story. http://hollywoodlife.com/2012/09/17/e-l-james-fifty-shades-of-grey-twilight/. So if you’re one of those Twilight fans who would NEVER watch a movie like 50 Shades of Grey, because of the inappropriate relationships portrayed therein, you still might have to question just what kind of relationships you’re considering to be “romantic,” in your PG-13 world. You might not be off the hook in terms of deviant arousal! Food for thought.)

But Grey, in true Edward Cullen form, warns Anastasia, “You should steer clear of me.” Yes, yes. This is Twilight. There’s even a scene of him moving her to safety. No, he didn’t block an oncoming truck with his bare hands, but yes. This is Twilight.

Scene: Woman waking up naked in bed alone. It struck me, actually, that Grey had made his side of the bed. Blankets pulled up, pillows placed perfectly. I think that would probably be the most seductive thing about the movie, for normal women. This man obviously has control issues, but think of the cleanliness which would ensue if you were in a relationship with an obsessive compulsive man…

Scene: At a dinner party with his family, obviously, and his hand is sliding her dress up her leg, under the table. What woman in her right mind wants to be felt up while in the process of meeting his family? No woman. Her posture is anxious and tight, and he’s selfishly grabbing at her while her mind is likely too busy, right now, trying to think of what to say, how to act, to impress these people. Trust me, she’s not interested right now, unless this happens to be a porn flick. Oh, wait…

And, carrying on, oh yes. We have nakedness and blindfolds and rope and belts. WHAT THE CRAP. If this were Twilight, we would have Edward Cullen taking bite-fulls of blood out of Bella’s body and spitting it back in her face.

At what point is a relationship about “control” abusive? At what point does an abusive relationship become unacceptable? Dare I say at the very beginning? Dare I say that she deserves respect? Even if she doesn’t think that she deserves it, or wants it?

The thing that finally nailed the lid on the coffin for me, in terms of labeling this film as pornography was actually at the end of the trailer. The credits roll on – to heavy breathing, just to remind you about SEX – and then? We see Grey’s back, and in letters over his head, the words, “Mr. Grey will see you now.”

Because that is JUST what our movie-going viewers want. They WANT Mr. Grey to see them now, and do a number on them, too. SERIOUSLY??? I’ve got PTSD! I’m ready for flaming balls of hail to strike Hollywood for its Sodom and Gomorrah comeback. I’m envisioning a Second Coming! PLEASE! Anything but women looking forward to sadist sex. Mr. Grey states, “I don’t do romance.” Well obviously not! Obviously not!

And for our poor women who actually think that they want to see this film, because for some reason they think that this is uplifting material, which is really going to inspire them in their love lives, I want to tell you what love really is. And you’re not going to see anything like this with a Grey character.

Love is sitting at home, thinking about how much you’d like to have a baby, like everybody else, and having your husband sit down next to you, to show you pictures of baby otters, just to mess with you. You jokingly growl at him, call him cruel, then the two of you sit back and enjoy a couple otter pops. (Yes Christian Grey. That’s as sadist as love gets.)

Love is learning to appreciate different interests and hobbies, and shopping at Hobby Lobby for wood-burning supplies and table centerpieces. Love is bringing home ice cream, and expecting nothing in return. Love is witnessed in meal planning, doing needed car repairs, and putting the toilet seat down. Love is playing together, in ripping torn jeans together, in snapping the bubbles of Bubble Wrap. Love is in dreaming, in planning your future, and the rest of your lives together. Love is seen in every selfless act, in gentleness, gratitude, and loving adoration.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-7.

It makes me extremely sad that so many have such a warped perspective of love. The justice is that these people will not find what they are looking for, in the end. In the end, 50 Shades of Grey isn’t going to do anybody any good. Heck, it has the potential to do a lot of bad. It might lead to divorces, sexual dysfunction, or at least sexual dissatisfaction, because loving husbands just aren’t going to compete with porn star Christian Grey.

We need to know what we’re looking for. As women, are we going to stand up for men to be abusive scumbags, or are we going to stand up for them to be our knights in shining armor, or at least, in my case, our knights in dirty scrubs? Do we want to be treated lovingly, or do we want to seek pleasure in being treated worse than second class citizens? Are we going to stand for perpetuating violence to ANYONE in romantic relationships, in the name of toleration for unconventional practices? Just because my cutting patients are consenting to taking box cutters to their wrists, doesn’t mean that it’s right. Women are killing themselves with eating disorders, on purpose, but it doesn’t mean that it’s right. Anastasia in 50 Shades of Grey is consenting to be beaten to submission in a masochistic fashion, but it doesn’t mean that it’s right. All that it means is that she’s been manipulated and taken advantage of, and is, as a result, emotionally, psychologically, and physically “sick.”

Don’t take this crap. Please. Women of the world. Don’t go on Valentine’s Day to promote a pornographic portrayal of an abusive relationship. How about you spend the evening with someone important to you, and celebrate, instead, the truth of what love is really all about.

Self-Discovery

Did I ever mention that I don’t deserve my husband?

I was having a crappy night, last night. I was feeling overworked, depressed, and I was feeling pretty prickly. Not to mention that I had just made a poor caloric choice, which left me feeling fat, despicable, and completely unrestrained. Needless to say, I was feeling like crap. When my husband came home from his night class, he took a seat next to me on the couch, where I proceeded to growl at him in a feral manner, crouching over the food which was my sin, in a protective manner. He grabbed himself something else to snack on, and proceeded to do some homework.

Once I had finished consuming my personal prize, and the TV episode I was watching was over, I decided I would rest my head down in Nathan’s lap, while he did homework. I justified this as “bonding” time, but really, I was just looking for someone to give me attention and pity me, though I had done nothing in particular to deserve it. Nathan proceeded to run a hand through my hair as he finished typing his assignment one-handed, and while I promptly passed out.

Over an hour later, Nathan gently woke me from my slumber on his lap, and helped to drag my semi-conscious form to bed, with all the patience of new, first-time parent. I remember talking to him, though I can’t remember what about. (I’m an exceptionallygood sleeper, something I’ve discovered even more, since being married.) I remember his laughing about it, but being kind, before I passed out again.

Since being married, I’ve learned some stuff about myself. Marriage has got to be the ultimate tool of self-discovery. I’d recommend it to anyone, but only if they are in a stable enough position in which they could cope with the emotional process that is self-discovery. It is a process. It is both lovely and horrifying, pleasant and painful, and ought to be entered into at your own risk.

Since being married I’ve discovered that I’m terribly selfish. (Note – I was defending my food from my own husband, in a self-pitying, animalistic display.) I’ve plotted ways of passively displaying unhappiness, so that he’ll jump to my rescue, without my ever having to have asked – so that I look strong, and don’t have to look like the needy, selfish, often angst-y woman that I am. I’ve discovered that I can, at times, be completely self-obsessed. I want to know why there are still dirty dishes in my sink, and I’m so upset that they’re still there that I fail to give sympathy to the fact that my husband has been sick all week, not to mention the fact that he’s not a mind-reader. I’ve come to realize that I whine, and I whine a lot. (I actually picked up on this on my mission, so missions are good for this too.) I whine about my back pain, and I whine about the hot weather, and my mild bouts of nonsensical anxiety, and my weight, and my zits, and my relationships, etc.

But the things I have learned have not all been bitter. There certainly is a portion of sweetness to my flawed character, which I have discovered as well. (And might I mention that it’s VITAL to see the good, as well as the bad?) I’ve discovered that I’m far more patient than I ever would have guessed. I CAN  accept that flaws and imperfections exist in others, and I can work through those things without feelings of discouragement or despair, but only hope and encouragement for the future. I have discovered that I can be self-sacrificing, as I forget annoyances or feelings of disappointment, to carry on with what mutually we’ve chosen is going to be done. I focus on the things that will make others happy. I give up my time, and (perhaps too much) berate myself on my weaknesses, always striving to be better. I am dedicated to causes, and fight for what’s right. Above all I seek the Lord, and choose to do what I feel God would have me do, despite any consequences that may arise.

Am I perfect? Far from it. Am I flawed? Far, too. I am just me, and you are just you. (I felt a little Dr. Seuss there, and chose not to delete it. I’m letting my freak flag fly.)

Self-discovery is hard. Some days it leaves me feeling like the scum of all the earth, as I eat the entire box of Little Caesar’s Italian Cheese Bread by myself, while loathing myself over my hateful, selfish tantrums. Some days you feel like Jesus has been following you around the whole day, patting you on the back, while you smile and continue with a 100% motivation level. Some days are a little Bipolar, and you flip back and forth within every matter of hours.

Would I change it? Absolutely not. Do I hope that I learn something from it? I certainly hope I do! And I hope that, at least most of the time, I’m heading in the direction I want to be headed. Each day I should remind myself that it’s one day at a time, and that if you “mess up” today, there’s probably a reason for it, and a lesson to be learned. You’ll learn that lesson, and tomorrow will be even better than your today could have been, if the lesson hadn’t been there.