Trigger Warnings Have A Purpose

It has become fashionable to bash trigger warnings and the people who use them. Some folks argue that it’s censorship to provide advance warning that difficult content may be ahead. Others just make fun of them, saying it’s silly. Trigger warnings actually neither suppress freedom of speech nor indicate an individual is stupid or a community is unwilling to join ‘the real world.’ They have a purpose. To illustrate further, I’m going to include a trigger warning of my own. After an italicized trigger warning and content you may choose to skip if you don’t wish to read a story that includes eating disorders and depression, I will resume offering my general thoughts on why trigger warnings can be helpful and where we go from here.

TW: eating disorders, depression

In late high school and early college, I struggled with eating disorders and depression. There was one summer, in particular, that was very bad. It was so bad that I accepted I was going to die. My phone would ring, and I would not answer it. I would walk through my parents home wordlessly, moving past them like a visible ghost. What did I have to say to anyone? Insomnia, self-hatred, and sadness. That is what I had.

During these dark days the precious little human contact I had was centered around a message board for people struggling with eating disorders. Though it seems silly to type now, it was, truly, my lifeline to the outside world. Therapy was not a safe place — during a group therapy session, one of the other patients attacked me for being ‘immoral.’ Eventually solo therapy became unsafe as well, and I was kicked out my entire treatment program for continuing to lose weight. I was told that I was a legal liability if I kept showing up, and if I did they would pursue a court order to put me in a state-run facility (by that time they had already hospitalized me three times). Between that and my inability to connect with friends and family, it was this message board that kept me going.

On this board I found other people struggling with the same obsessions and problems I had, and it wasn’t too tragic to speak openly about what I was experiencing. Primarily the board was a place for emotional support. Most of us wanted to get better, and so we used trigger warnings to discuss specifics that someone else might use a blueprint for self-harm. For instance, a trigger warning might set off specific information about restricting behaviors. My eating disorder was so strong at that time that I couldn’t simply read that someone had only eaten x, y, and z all week without using that information to harm myself. I used the trigger warnings like an adult, and I do think they helped me participate safely in the only form of human connection that worked for me during a hideous and dangerous period in my life.

So, it has been with interest that I’ve watched the current handwringing over trigger warnings. Simply put, if someone has chosen to offer a trigger warning before a topic that you have no problem openly discussing — perhaps eating disorders, sexual violence, or abusive relationships — you are not the intended recipient of that person’s additional consideration. There is no reason to bully the person for thinking you are “weak” (they don’t), or for “coddling” others (they’re not). Trigger warnings are good-faith, inter-community signals for people who have had a hard time with something you (thankfully) have not.

Not too long ago, Katy Waldman at Slate attacked Jessica Luther for using trigger warnings on Twitter. She did not bother to interview Jessica to ask why she had used a trigger warning in a tweet related to rape. Instead she dismissed her as ridiculous for not recognizing that Twitter is an open forum. Sure, Twitter is an open forum, but it is also very much a vibrant feminist organizing and awareness-raising space — and in this space, it’s indisputable that Jessica is a leader. I don’t doubt that many of Jessica’s followers appreciated the trigger warning, and I also don’t think Jessica’s wrong to use it. It’s her microphone. (This entire incident had an undertone of l’affaire Keller, in which former New York Times executive editor Bill Keller and his wife, journalist Emma Gilbey Keller each wrote columns attacking terminal cancer patient Lisa Bonchek Adams for tweeting the reality of her illness; among the many dynamics, you have those with media power attacking those with social media power for not following their conventional standards of editing.)

I’d also like to address this idea that trigger warnings are “censorship.” I have written before about the frequent charge that feminists attempt to “censor” others. As I wrote then, we need to take consideration of what censorship actually means, by definition, which is “changing or suppressing speech or writing that is considered subversive of the common good”:

In other words, censorship is practiced by governments or institutions for the purposes of control. It is associated most frequently with authoritarian states or religions. It is generally against freedom, which is, again, not where feminism and other civil and human rights movements calling for the emancipation, empowerment and inclusion of more people and more people’s perspectives in free public life are headed.

In the case of trigger warnings in specific, it’s censorship to bar someone from being able to offer a trigger warning. Of course, much of the hullabaloo revolves around various universities that are grappling with student requests that professors offer trigger warnings on their syllabi in order to identify material that may be triggering. Many professors don’t want to do that (Brittany Cooper has an excellent piece on that here) and I support them. I’d also like to be perfectly clear that I do not support banning books and have written before about one mother’s quest to ban Toni Morrison’s Beloved from the public school system after it made her son uncomfortable. Banning books and material is not the same thing as a trigger warning. I’d also like to distinguish between trigger warnings voluntarily adopted within a self-selected community of activists or likeminded people as fundamentally distinct from a top-down mandate within an institution of higher learning.

But I do think, in the case of these students, that we might be better served by asking why so many students continue to feel a need for trigger warnings. The underlying point is that the world remains a difficult, dangerous, and violent place for many, and especially on the basis of race, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, and ability. For example, we should look the overwhelming preponderance of sexual crimes in the eye, and especially on a policy level that addresses root causes. Are the students ridiculous for requesting trigger warnings? No. They will probably not get what they asked for, but the requests themselves present multiple opportunities for all of us to grow.

 

The Unsung Heroes Of Mother’s Day: Friends

Please pardon me for publishing this about a week late. I am, after all, a new mom.

Friends don’t get enough recognition on Mother’s Day, and they really should. Before I became a mom, I associated Mother’s Day with family. Don’t forget to call mom! Get her some flowers. Say something nice to grandma. But the commercial aspects of Mother’s Day as a biological event only carry us so far.

After all, even before I became a mom, I was aware how painful this day can be for many. For those facing infertility, or loss of pregnancies, children, or parents. For those whose mothers and families have shunned them for their sexual orientation. For those left feeling unrecognized or unappreciated as step-parents, or caregivers, or birth parents. For those who have families that don’t look like the kind that get slapped on the back of a minivan with those little white stencil stickers.

I knew, before experiencing this first Mother’s Day as a mom, that it is friends who carry us through the hard parts of family. What I didn’t know is how much friends could and often would rise to support my journey as a new mom.

During these past 11 months, I have learned how incredibly isolating new motherhood can, at times, feel. There is this crying baby that won’t respond to anything and you haven’t slept or showered in several days and OMG! And then there are those first forays into parenting in front of others. Breastfeeding in public or taking a baby to a restaurant — these are often represented not as personal decisions but something that must be guided by what others think. Being honest can be intimated as a matter of (poor) etiquette: talking about your children is boring, posting pictures of your baby on social media is aggrandizing, discussing the details of birth is TMI. Some people stop giving a shit about you. Some people assume you’ve stopped giving a shit about your career. Sometimes people say judgmental things about your parenting decisions, and it feels like a rusty knife scraping the folds of your psyche.

But the overwhelming truth I have learned is this: Entering into motherhood, like other major life changes, reveals who your true friends are, and sometimes those answers are surprising. People who might have seemed more like casual acquaintances come out of the woodwork, offering support and handwritten cards in the mail. Colleagues and professional contacts who, without prompt, make proactive space to let you know your child is welcome at an after-hours gathering. It has been especially moving to me to see how some of my intentionally child-free feminist friends who really, really, and rightfully don’t like the assumption of a “mother” role for women have noiselessly made space to accommodate a new me, and my little one; and but also how loud-and-proud feminist mothers have welcomed me with open arms and helped me negotiate the complicated feelings that come with being newly beholden to a little one who needs you all the time. Blessed are those who acknowledge that it can take much more time for me to respond to and initiate calls, texts and emails, or make carefree plans to do “adult” things, and value me with patience for what I can give now.

Motherhood is something that we can’t do without support, and usually it’s family that gets the acknowledgement. It is friends, those who are mothers and non-mothers, who are the unsung heroes of Mother’s Day. I was delighted and surprised to learn on my first Mother’s Day as a mom that I would be flooded with love, support and well-wishes not just from family, but from friends. Thank you.

When She Says She’s Not A Feminist

Let’s talk about this conversation:

– Are you a feminist?

– No, feminists are (against men/too angry/pick your poison). But I believe in equality.

Variations of this conversation occur in lots of venues: classrooms, media outlets, social settings. But no matter the specifics, it often becomes a psychic wedgie to those women who do identify as feminist. Many will respond with, well, actually feminism is about equality — so you are a feminist. But is that useful? I argue not, and here’s why.

  • Self-definition is an important principle of a modern women’s movement.
    What often passes for “equality” in mainstream venues including corporations, media, and politics these days is one white woman who will represent “women.” This is insulting and troubling for many reasons, not least of which that not all women are the same. Not all feminisms are the same either. If a woman says she is not feminist because feminism means something negative to her, insisting that she is in fact feminist either replaces or piles on the negative view of feminism she had just articulated with one that includes people who don’t respect her authority to speak for herself. It certainly doesn’t communicate that feminism is about respecting autonomy.
  • This gotcha game is largely targeted at women, not men in power, and that sucks.
    Are the 476 men who serve as CEOS of the Fortune 500 routinely asked if they are feminist? What about the male actors and musicians who get magazine profiles? No, they are not. Instead this question is largely directed at those few women who hold power. This sucks so much. Do we really want to give all the men who hold the bulk of the power in our society a free pass to ignore the advancement of women? If a commitment to equality belongs solely to those who hold less privilege, we’re not going to move near fast enough.
  • It’s not safe for everyone to identify as feminist.
    I define feminism as a political/social movement calling for equality and justice for all people, starting with women at the center. It is much more a cultural and political agenda than a form of identity. It is an agenda that requires calling for changes in society, many of which are quite controversial. I have in the course of my career working with women’s rights advocates around the country met women who consider themselves feminists but would never let their colleagues or neighbors know. Simply put, they don’t want to get fired or penalized. Saying you are a feminist can come with real and negative social consequences, and a feminist thing to do would be to respect that.
  • Feminism is not experienced equally by everyone.
    Feminism is a loaded term for many women who do very much care about equality, especially women of color, transgender women, and others whose perspectives are not often centered by the mainstream white feminist-driven bus. Some quite thoughtfully choose to use the term “womanist” rather than “feminist” to describe themselves. It just might be the case that listening to (rather than refuting) the reasons behind one person’s rejection of the term feminist offers a large opportunity for you to grow your own feminist practice.
  • And to my fellow feminists (especially those of you who are women): It’s okay for others to disagree with you, or dislike you.
    Women are especially socialized to think we are awful if others disagree with something we have to say, or dislike who we are. Happiness rarely comes from posturing to please others. In this way, traditional gender scripts work hard against women, our potential, our happiness, and our self-esteem by insisting that we put the perceptions of others before what we find important for ourselves. If a woman says feminists are something you don’t think you are, you can simply say (out loud and/or to yourself) that doesn’t apply to you. And you can move on to fighting for equality. And that’s okay.

The radical right has for decades worked to redefine feminism as a negative identity rather than the positive social and political agenda it is. It’s disingenuous, derailing, and would be better fought not by insisting that individuals define themselves as feminists but rather by holding institutions accountable for treating everyone with equality and justice.

Today’s Young Left Feminists Smeared From Within, Again

Katha Pollitt has a new piece up at The Nation taking the left, and in specific “today’s young left feminists” to task for, as she sees it, not considering seriously enough the questions of equality and male dominance when advocating for the rights of sex workers.

I’m sick of this.

Let me introduce myself. I have, throughout my career, been cast in the role of ‘token young feminist’ so many times you would have thought it was the job they really hired me for. It’s hilarious, really, that a certain stripe of feminist will consistently ask where are the young women? while at the same time appearing to blame young feminists for inequality left standing by veteran feminists.*

*See what I just did? That was unfair. I didn’t mean it. I wrote that to prove a point. Veteran feminists are not to blame for ongoing inequality.

A diversity of demographics, experiences, and viewpoints among feminists is not to blame for ongoing inequality. In fact these things are assets to the movement.

Even more, blaming women for oppression we experience is pointless.

There are a number of provocative points for discussion and consideration in Pollitt’s piece. But the inclusion of those four nasty words operate as a practical ‘stay away’ command to anyone who might be identified anywhere near the ballpark of “today’s young left feminists” (tellingly, a category that I’ve heard many feminists in their 40s and beyond identify with if only because they don’t feel in whole or part accepted as members of the overwhelmingly white group holding the paychecks and/or publishing power within the movement). We are, in this case, described as ones who “don’t want to think about” these things. Instead of joining the discussion, we are, with limited time and energy, left to defend ourselves and maybe our right to be a part of it.

Sadly, “don’t want to think about” is pretty nice compared to what usually happens when charges like this are leveled. Usually we’re just “wrong” or “naive.” As many of you know I used to serve in a leadership position in an old guard feminist organization. Things would happen, like the time someone spoke audibly after my turn to speak, asking if I was an intern. Mind you I was 30 at the time and had spoken confidently. Another time I read a recommendation letter for an intern applicant from a women’s studies professor who blamed younger feminists leading slut walks for cementing inequality for women and girls.

Wrong targets, not cool, cut it out.

Video: Abortion Is A Life-Saving Act

I recently appeared on The Square Circle, and toward the end of the show panelists are given an opportunity to speak to what they believe is an underreported story from the week. Imagine my surprise when the woman before me offered up a story about and her opposition to an art display at the University of Michigan that celebrated abortion as a life-saving act.

While I had not heard of the story previously, I felt compelled to respond immediately:

Opponents of legal abortion should never be given the opportunity to take the high ground. Their anti-choice positions are fundamentally against basic human rights for women. You should not apologize for supporting abortion rights; further, you should not let anti-choicers make you feel ashamed or immoral. State your support for legal abortion with pride. The moral high ground is, in fact, yours.

If you would like to watch the entire program, the link is here.

Why Must We Disagree With Successful Women?

Sheryl Sandberg has a new campaign. Beyonce has a sexy dance at the award show. A woman is running for political office. And, reliably, in every instance, you will hear women’s advocates disagree with what she is doing.

This should happen for the simple fact that women are not all the same, and we don’t all think the same. We sure as hell don’t have the same experiences. Yet surprisingly, this fact is little acknowledged within mainstream discourse. One woman’s actions are interpreted to speak for what is possible for the whole. We do not do this to heterosexual white men.

If a heterosexual white man is elected into office, we don’t comment on the message he is sending to other heterosexual white men. We comment on his ideas. If a woman has enough privilege to share her ideas with a broader audience, which remains relatively rare, we insist upon placing a frame around her that simultaneously evaluates all other women and urges women to disagree with her.

It is precisely because women in the public eye are interpreted as representing the whole that women, including but not limited to feminist women, are under pressure to so vehemently disagree with the actions of women in the public eye. We have been presented with a vision of gender empowerment that gives women one to a few slots among a sea of other slots primarily occupied by heterosexual white men. We are supposed to celebrate the few women leaders we have, and encourage ourselves and others to be just like them. What this means is that someone else has already beaten us to the punch. We are, in other words, encouraged to compete with other women rather than insist that heterosexual white men share power to the extent that a diverse array of women can share an equal seat at the table.

When a strong woman acts, the next step in the social media world is to talk about her ideas or actions in relation to that woman. A referendum on her action ensues. It is beneficial to analyze, disagree, and parse out new opinions, yes. Women are not all the same.

Still, it would be nice to see a referendum on the practice of assigning women and in particular feminist women the job of picking apart the actions of the comparatively few women leaders we have. It is both radical and necessary to call for a culture of abundance, where more than one type of womanhood is celebrated and supported, and more than a few women get to speak for the whole. The whole is never going to be one woman speaking for all women; that form of feminism is out-of-date. Let’s also rewrite the sell-by date on the practice of demanding women  reply to and vehemently disagree with the actions of the pathetically small number of women at the top.

If we are truly engaged in a zero-sum game for increasing the options available to women (a premise a culture of abundance rejects anyway), a handful of brand-name women with platforms are the wrong target; white heterosexual men are not called upon to defend the way patriarchal dominance means they are evaluated primarily for their ideas every time they try something new.

Cosmo Says Male-Dominated Workplaces Are Great Places To Score A Date

For decades, Cosmopolitan magazine has been enthusiastically converting the mainstream, feel-bad-about-yourself mythology of girl-meets-guy into a mainstream, monthly infection. You’re supposed to only want guys (duh), and be validated through men (it’s so exciting!), and make yourself pretty so he’ll like you (eat a smaller lunch and tone those glutes!) and taking this matter into your own hands is empowering (and here are some bonus sex tips to help make him moan, because the sex is about the pleasure, or at least his).

Telling women that male-dominated workplaces are great places to score a date is taking this yuck to a whole new level.

From The Best Places to Meet a Guy (emphases mine):

Hot spot: A Fortune 500 or tech company

The draw: How’s this for a fab job perk? Twenty-two percent of people met their spouses or long-term significant others on the job, according to a survey by Vault.com. But all careers are not created equal, guy-wise. If you’re searching for a new position, consider working for either a Fortune 500 company (75 percent of incoming full-time associates at top banks, many of which are in the Fortune 500, are guys) or a tech company (men make up 75 percent of the technology workforce, according to the National Science Foundation). Hint: Once you’re in, join the office Super Bowl pool.

Find it near you: Visit hoovers.com for a list of companies. The following Fortune 500 companies have an impressive guy-to-girl ratio: 

    • California: 75 percent of new hires, as of their latest report, at Cisco Systems, an Internet networking business, are male; cisco.com.
    • Nationwide: At Dominion, an energy company, 78 percent of staffers are male; dom.com. And 70 percent of Hewlett-Packard employees are men; hp.com.

Hot spot: A political rally or campaign

The draw: The hottest political organization these days is the Save Darfur Coalition, which is dedicated to ending the genocide in Darfur, the western region of Sudan in Africa. Stars like George Clooney are getting involved in the movement, and the number of members (read: smart, passionate guys) is rapidly increasing. If you feel fired up for the cause too, check out upcoming rallies, vigils, roundtables, and concerts. Or join a political campaign. The best part: Many senatorial and gubernatorial campaign teams are male-dominated. The atmosphere is intense (you’re all working hard toward a goal: the candidate winning), and there’s a set end point (the election), which lends itself to a live-for-the-moment attitude that’s conducive to love connections.

Find it near you: Visit savedarfur.org/events or electionprojection.com for a list of candidates by state.

Yes! This is real! ZOMFG. Cosmopolitan is proudly presenting the glass ceiling as an aphrodisiac. Why rage against the machine when you can run your leg alongside it? You are being encouraged to research companies run by dudes not so you can demand answers or take away your business (which would be totally valid ways to seek empowerment), but so you can seek a job for the purpose of finding someone to bang you. Not once is it suggested that seeking a job in one of these boys clubs might be about advancing your career or the status of women (which would also be totally valid ways to seek empowerment). Nor is it suggested there is something wrong with these ratios.

But wait! Not only are men doing it pretty much by themselves in the big companies for the big salaries, they are also doing it in politics. It’s even “the best part” that “many senatorial and gubernatorial campaigns are male-dominated.”

While holding individual women and their sexual choices responsible for the second-class status of women is not a feminist activity, we have every right to be concerned that Cosmopolitan is suggesting that women should go into male-dominated workspaces on the prowl for mating partners. This kind of sludge serves to reinforce sexist ideas about women in the workplace and suggests that we might be working hard and showing enthusiasm not because we care or want to get promoted, but because we want to get laid. All while managing to simultaneously avoid addressing and also celebrate the skirts off the power differential of a man pursuing a more junior woman in the male-dominated workspace.

Cosmopolitan calls itself a “cheerleader for millions of fun, fearless females who want to be the best they can be in every area of their lives.” In 2014 it’s hard to believe the best we can be is holding fewer than one in 10 of the top-earner slots in Fortune 500 companies and maybe also taking it on the copy machine.

If you would like to see Cosmopolitan stop turning “Lean In” into “Sleaze In,” drop them a line at inbox@cosmopolitan.com.

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Is It Rude To Bring A Baby To A Restaurant?

Is it rude to bring a baby to a restaurant? Should parents get a babysitter or stay home so other patrons can have an adult conversation without the threat of crying in the background? Should mothers breastfeed their infants in the restroom because boobies don’t belong in a dining room? To all of the above: Hell, no!

Let’s be clear about something. The most disruptive behavior I have witnessed in public restaurants, coffee shops, and bars has always been drunk and/or horny adults, not babies. Sure, I’ve been in restaurants where babies cried, but I never remembered those crying babies years later, the way I do the drunk guys who puked on the floor of the restaurant, the frat boys who shouted and shoved each other into the snowbanks on the sidewalk outside the door, the middle-age couple with mismatched ring fingers more or less sliding into second base at Starbucks (it was so clear you were cheating, OMG!).

And yet no one is saying the drunk and/or horny shouldn’t be allowed to go into restaurants.

Being a new parent of an infant in our culture can be incredibly isolating. One of the things you hear new parents say over and over again is that first going into public can be scary for fear of the baby needing to cry, nurse, or both. This fear is culturally supported by the idea that infants in restaurants and other public spaces are disruptive. Further, this fear is supported by deeply ingrained ideas about gender: That women and children should “stay home,” that public spaces are primarily for “adults” (read: men, or women without children), that breastfeeding infants is  somehow “sexual” or “dirty.” Gender matters because while this affects parents of both genders, women are disproportionately and uniquely impacted.

It’s something we should overcome because infants are part of our human family as much as everyone else, and deserve to live in public, declare their basic needs, and have them met. It’s something we should overcome because mothers (and fathers!) are adults who deserve to take up space in public restaurants at least as much as, if not more than, rude adults who can be much more disruptive than a crying baby a parent is working to soothe. 

No one makes blanket statements that drinkers and people who are going to have sex should not be allowed in restaurants.

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg Is A Rock Star

Recently, Justice Elena Kagan gave a speech honoring Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. It is moving and wonderful. You can watch it here.

The speech gives those of us who identify as feminist a lot to think about. In particular, I noticed the reoccurring theme of the strategic approach Justice Ginsburg used in her career before becoming a judge: the way she chose which issues to work on, prepared immaculate arguments, and waited for the perfect moments to act.

Toward the end, Justice Ginsburg herself speaks, touching on how rewarding it is to work on something larger than yourself, in her case, the cause of working toward equality for women. We are so lucky to have this rock star in the highest court.

The Push To “Lose The Baby Weight” Is Bunk

The social and psychological push to “lose the baby weight” is among the crappier things we do to new moms. There is, even during pregnancy, a fixation on “getting your body back” that leads to pregnancy fat-talk, or the push to share how much weight you have gained. I have written before about why I chose not to participate in that talk, as well as my story navigating pregnancy after an eating disorder, and on having a new sense of body image after having a baby.

By now, I’m fairly good at resisting negative body image-type things. In fact, I can often completely shut down internal and external messages that conflate my worth with taking up less space. If I hadn’t — painfully — learned how to do this through the course of various medical interventions, I do believe anorexia would have prevailed and I would be dead. This does not mean I don’t hear the pressure to lose the baby weight. I hear it loud and clear. And I find it irritating.

Yes, losing the baby weight is most definitely something other people do and do care about, and my eating disorder culture police siren isn’t chasing after them. It is not feminist to judge others in a different lane in life. I can appreciate the drive to want to fit into more of your old clothes, and to “feel like yourself again.” But I would, again, like to push back against a broader frame that asserts that a pregnant body and a body after giving birth belongs to anyone but the person in it.

There is strong overlap between eating disorder culture, voyeur culture, and an anti-modern fundamentalist culture that denies the existence of reproductive rights. I have written about this before in the context of why I chose not to post pregnancy photos to Facebook. To boil it down more essentially, modern pregnancy is a spectator sport, socially, and an increasingly church- and state-controlled sport, physically, and these two phenomena support each other. At the core is a belief that having a baby is an other-worldly condition, something that doesn’t belong to a woman herself, which is rather funny as the process of giving birth is, once initiated, an unavoidable, unstoppable total body experience for women.

In this context, body hatred and shame, within the frames of losing the baby weight and getting your body back, operate to support the idea that your body does not belong to you right now. Before birth, during birth, and even after birth. It is as if, with regards to pregnancy, a woman’s body is not allowed to change, and if it does, that woman’s true body is seen as a state in the past, captured in photographs or pant sizes gone by, while the state of present is simply a misshapen shell to be rejected.

Body hatred as a general state operates to keep women in a second-class status by making us prisoners of our appearance; by obliterating our self-worth; by robbing us of time, energy, and in many cases nutrients; by pitting us in competition with what appears to be other women but what is actually an unattainable state for all; by caging us from within. All of this continues with the fixation on the pregnant and post-pregnant body. But there is an additional punch: The social and psychological rejection of a pregnant body as “that woman’s body” from a hot-or-not standpoint operates to support the increasing violation of pregnant women’s civil and human rights. If that body isn’t yours now, then it’s easier to suggest that a statute written by a pen passed between politicians and clergy should trump you in moments of life, death, and great weight. This is one way that the psychological rejection of the pregnant and post-pregnant body is so serious.

But it’s most of all serious in the immediate experience of women who find themselves under pressure to not accept their bodies as they are now, before, and after giving birth. Having a new baby means you are usually tired all the time; if the pressure to lose weight is followed to its logical end of dieting and restriction, new moms may feel starving as well as tired. Giving birth is a moment of profound strength. It’s simply disgusting that a woman who has given birth should, as a matter of cultural expectation, then look at her body and reject it. This year I intentionally chose not to make a New Year’s resolution to lose my remaining “baby weight,” which I am reminded, when I look at my adorable daughter rolling on the floor, is actually “my weight.” She deserves better goals from me, and I, like any woman, deserve to accept myself as I am today.

P.S. – I feel it is nearly inevitable that this post will receive a comment about “health.” We are trained to equate less weight with “health,” and I not only reject that, but also identify it as a critical Jenga piece in eating disorder culture. Concern-trolling about health as a means to push weight loss upon post-pregnant people (or anyone else, for that matter), is not legitimate in a cultural context. Your doctor can credibly claim you need to lose weight for health reasons but the peanut gallery is not qualified to do so.