Mien 2019
mien /mēn/ noun
a person’s look or manner, especially one indicating their character or mood.
Can you use it in a sentence?
Sure: I refuse to adjust my mien to make other people feel more comfortable. I’m fed up with having to apologize for my tone of voice. I am sick of being sorry for forming an opinion and having the nerve to say it out loud. I’m done worrying about where all the pieces will fall if I’m not the one to pick them up. I no longer care how I am perceived: in 2019 I mean my mien.
This might sound like some feminist rally cry but it isn't. This has nothing to do with gender. Men are subject to the same scrutiny as women, it just happens to work in their favor more often than it works in ours. For example, men are labeled as decisive while women are called bossy for the same behavior. Males are confident, females are vain. Men are passionate yet women are emotional. I am sure you get it- but please feel free to view the following list produced by a Harvard study to drive the point home.
I understand that everyone is entitled to their own perceptions and, even though it isn't fair that women are judged more critically than men, these types of biases have deep roots and aren't going to transform over night. But patience has never been my strength and I want revolution right the hell now. If I can’t choose how people address me, I choose not to answer to them.
It’s liberating in theory, but in reality it’s a lot more complicated than it sounds. As humans, we don’t get to decide what we feel when someone doesn't like us or judges us. We just feel- usually bad. I can’t turn off my ability to be hurt by others’ reactions toward me but I can put as little weight behind them as possible. So, in addition to freely expressing my thoughts- I am going to spend as little time as possible thinking about what others think of me.
Before you decide that I am some wild outlier that has read one too many Ruth Bader Ginsburg biographies, I am very proud to announce that I’m not the only one who is fed up with these absurd rules about how we’re supposed to act, talk, dress, and live our lives. “Stop Telling Women To Smile” is an entire movement that was created because apparently we have to tell other people to stop telling us how we should present ourselves to them.
This type of harassment isn’t exclusive to women. I have heard the actual following conversation occur between two people:
Idiot: “You don’t even seem gay, I had no idea you were!”
Normal guy living life: “Oh. Sorry- I’ll try to work on appearing gay-er…”
I get that most people are trying to be nice when they say these things, but in what context is it okay to tell someone they aren't good enough? I’ll answer that for you- it’s never. But as I stated earlier, we can’t stop others from projecting their bullshit theories about how things “should be” onto us. What we can do is live our truths, exactly as they are, and aim to internally block out their intolerant noise. We have to do our best to always be louder.
Care Enough To Speak Up
I gave up for twenty two minuets on a Sunday. I was exhausted from trying to explain why I was frustrated. “It’s not that you don’t remember where we parked-” I told him in agony, “it’s that I do.” He looked bewildered. I could see him trying and failing to connect my words to meaning. “I told you what time to be ready today, I picked you up, I drove us here, I parked, I wrote down what level we parked on, and then I ran from store to store buying presents while you followed me around like a kid whose mom dragged him to a Tupperware party.” Pausing I waited for him to say “Oh, I get it-” but he just looked at me blankly. Finally he muttered, “well you parked the car. Sorry I didn't pay attention, jeez.” I stared at him and then past him. I shook my head, sighed, and gave up.
I couldn't articulate why I was furious in a way that he would understand. I decided it was easier to find the car myself and sit in silence as I drove us both to the Christmas party. For twenty two minuets I tried to convince myself that I didn’t care enough to fight. Those were the worst twenty two minuets I’ve ever spent with anyone. I resented him while simultaneously feeling guilty for for doing do. I felt like an ungrateful bitch and then I hated him for making me feel like I was always to blame for this constant argument. As I was having the worst existential crisis of my life- he fell asleep in the passenger seat.
When we pulled up to the house he awoke from his slumber and I couldn't hold it back any longer. “Fuck you, my feelings are valid” blurted from my lips. He looked shocked and confused. “I’m not a nag, I’m not a perfectionist, I don’t set impossible expectations, and I refuse to feel guilty for wanting you to get it the fuck together. If you don’t I am done because everything I did today I could have done easier if I was alone. From now on, you’re going to contribute value or your going to get lost. Do you hear me?” He swallowed hard and nodded his head. “No speak up. Tell me that you understand what I meant.” He went on about how he was going to help more and he’s sorry but I didn’t hear a word. Honestly, I found my real voice and I loved the sound of it.
Step Up
Not caring enough to fight is a tragedy. Warriors don’t quit when they’re frustrated. They don’t cry when they are misunderstood or cave when the pressure is too intense. They stand on the front lines and wield their weapons until they die or win. We are warriors and it’s our duty to battle for our privilege to fight. To stay silent is a sin against our freedom of expression. You can sin in the bedroom and in the boardroom, but don’t you ever sin against yourself. Decide what you believe in and then stand unwaveringly for it.
Happy New Year.
