Zelophehad's Daughters

In commenting, please respect the sensitive nature of this issue. And as is standard for eating disorder recovery discussion, do not use numbers in your comments (weight, calories, etc.)—any such numbers will be edited.

Note: I originally posted this under the name “Tirzah.”

I’ve found, unsurprisingly, that one of the more challenging aspects of recovering from an eating disorder is that of living in a culture that is pretty much crazy when it comes to issues of food and eating and the way that bodies are supposed to look. I wish I could say that it doesn’t get to me, but it does. Even when I can intellectually critique these messages, they still sting. I do my best to stay grounded by keeping in touch with the bubbles of sanity in my life: therapists and therapy groups, my comrades in recovery, supportive siblings and friends—people who challenge the toxic ideas that are so pervasive, remind me what I really care about and want in life.

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In commenting, please respect the sensitive nature of this issue. And as is standard for eating disorder recovery discussion, do not use numbers in your comments (weight, calories, etc.)—any such numbers will be edited.

Note: I originally posted this under the name “Tirzah.”

I’m never been afraid of airplanes. Spiders aren’t my favorite, but I can grit my teeth and squash them. I can deal with heights. I’m a little jumpy around dogs I don’t know, but am fine once we get acquainted. I once randomly looked up a list of phobias, and realized how many things I am not afraid of: cats, fog, writing.

But mirrors. Mirrors are a problem. Not so much in the sense of a phobia. More like a substance that might be deadly, but that you still find yourself poking, to see if it is still dangerous. A bad experience with a mirror can leave me reeling, sap my energy, plunge me into a sick despair. And even when I do my best to avoid obsessing over my reflection, in a world in which cell phone cameras are everywhere, I can still find myself unexpectedly confronted with a picture that reminds me that I take up far too much space. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live in a premodern society in which mirrors were less ubiquitous and photographs did not exist.

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So, I know that a number of months ago, I made a post about how I got engaged, and then I proceeded to disappear. My life has been pretty insane since then (work, health problems, wedding planning, etc.), but I wanted to give everyone an update on my life.

So, here’s the first part of the story: Read More

Like most everyone I know, I’ve been pretty entertained by this whole the-world-is-ending-on-May-21 spectacle. I’ve gotten a kick of those who are planning post-rapture looting parties, or are signing up to be the caretakers of the pets of those who are raptured. I looked through several fabulous pamphlets, including “Another Infallible Proof” and “I Hope God Will Save Me,” from which I learned that about three percent of the population will be saved; that the Bible contains multiple infallible proofs, related to both the timing of the Flood and the Crucifixion; that God’s message is not meant to be easily understood; and that gay pride is a sign of the end.
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When I was a kid, I would have said that one of the basic problems of my family was excessive geographical closeness. Not only were we all stuck in the same house, several of us were usually stuck sharing the same room. For a while I was with Kiskilili and Eve, and I can remember many conflicts over whether the door would be open or closed at night (I think at some point we had a chart of who got to decide on which day), and arguments which arose from different levels of desired tidiness. I still remember the drama which occurred when one of my toys made its way under Eve’s bed, and she claimed that anything which overflowed into her part of the room could be claimed as her own. I was on the top of a bunkbed, and Kiskililli was on the bottom, and I thought I was very clever when I proposed that our responsibility should be to clean underneath our respective beds. I later shared a larger room with Eve, which did not really ameliorate the tension, since she had to shovel my stuff back into my side of the room, and at one point I had a sheet hung around my bed so that I could hide from her. Then it was sharing with Kiskilili, which had its own amount of drama, as we alternated between playing elaborate games, and fighting. (I also had multiple hamsters, and K had a gerbil for a while, and this added to the general chaos.) Finally I got my own room when Eve left for college, and while I would like to say I was sad that she left, it would not really be true. Read More

[co-written with Melyngoch]

The following tale of alien encounters is true.  And by true I mean false.  It’s all lies.  But they’re entertaining lies, and in the end, isn’t that the real truth?  The answer is: No.
–“The Springfield Files“

In his forty-two years of political power, Muammar Gaddafi has usually not been shy about owning his position: Read More

I think Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree is the most terrifying of all the “beloved” children’s books ever written. Read More

I graduate tomorrow. I’ve graduated a bunch in my life, starting with kindergarten, but this is it. The end of the line. I’m even breaking with my personal tradition and attending the ceremony, which I’ve avoided the last few times. Partly because I’m not crazy about graduations, partly for logistical reasons (I seem to have a habit of graduating at the time of year when you have to come back later for a ceremony, which is a pain), and partly because I could always see another future graduation looming. Read More

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day, which means that many (most?) American LDS women who attended Sacrament Meeting were told that they have a lot of innate qualities, such as being righteous, spiritual, pure, or nurturing.

Let us take as self-evident that, in reality, not all women are naturally pure or spiritual. Let us also posit that, even if the average woman is more nurturing or righteous than the average man (a hypothesis which remains to be proved), actual women surely exhibit a range of qualities such that some women are more nurturing and others are less so.

Are there any downsides, then, to telling women that they are naturally nurturing or spiritual or righteous? At best, what we’re saying is probably true of some women. At worst, we’re just encouraging other women to develop those qualities, right? Read More

I’ve never quite understood the idea that we’re primarily here on earth to learn obedience. It’s the kind of thing that you’d think we could have practiced to boring but pristine perfection in the pre-mortal life. Ahh, you say, but the difference is that here we have to learn to obey even when God isn’t explicitly around. So now you get the added twist of having to figure out what’s really coming from God. This, I have to say, sounds disturbingly  like a game of “Simon Says.” Your primary aim is to learn the skill of figuring out which commands are coming from Simon, and then to obey them as quickly as possible. And even more troubling, Simon’s voice is often unclear, but you risk eternal consequences if you get it wrong. Read More

So BCC is having a poll about what topics people are sick to death of discussing, and “gender inequality” is currently well in the lead. I don’t know if I should be annoyed about this, or pleased by the fact that Bloggernaclerites are clearly well aware of issues of gender inequality, even if they don’t agree with feminists, or want to talk about it ever again. (I’m reminded of my conservative friends in high school who were baffled by my feminist views, but when they heard a talk about gender roles in church would tell me that it was probably good that I missed it. They might not have been feminists, but they were aware of what things make feminists crazy. That’s something. How’s that for taking lemons and making feminist lemonade?) Read More

Submission can be a beautiful thing.

Really.

It can. Read More

Imagine a somewhat different temple narrative, in which:

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…that I wish more than anything in the world I could have had for my own wedding?

I know, I know.  It’s like the hardest riddle you’ve ever read.

Here’s a clue:  It’s not a royal fiance or a five foot cake or a McQueen dress or 30,000 flowers.

Nope.

It’s the freedom and power to omit the vow to “obey her husband”.

…and then have everyone be happy about it.