Riding Bikes with a Schizo

"Yo, Gene Roddenberry, there is no humanity in embracing your inner domineering rapist asshole!"

             -Twisty, I Blame the Patriarchy

Nor is there any humanity in embracing the apologia attitude that our culture tells us, especially women, to take when we feel the need to express our emotions.  It has become apparent to me, via various overly-dramatic situations occurring around my Annibirthary (yeah, I made it up) that in an attempt to accommodate the feelings of too many people, I have compromised my own happiness and peace (pieces?) of mind. 

Truthfully, I have attempted to avoid hurt feelings because I fear being viewed or seen as inconsiderate, or god forbid, apathetic. I have internalized hurt, discomfort and anger because I have felt that I was not justified possessing confrontational emotions. It has taken many years of unexpressed guilt to get me to ask these questions: Who the fuck taught me to feel this way? Why do I let people make me feel bad for expressing my own desires and discomfort? And how sad is it to realize that my subconscious attitudes are the result of my cultural conditioning, and not my own sensitivity/ empathy? 

Fairly sad, I would say. But, at the very least, I am recognizing this tendency within myself. 

I cannot blame people, or significant others (past/present/future) for possessing these attitudes - I suffer from the affects of a patriarchal society just as much as the next  twenty-something. However, I am fucking sick of being made to feel like I cannot trust my own instincts or intuition. And I certainly refuse to apologize for it anymore. I do the best I can to be respectful of my friends, loved ones and strangers. To be told otherwise is not a direct reflection or truthful assessment of reality. 

And to be fair, alcohol always compromises any judgment, and can derail the best of intentions-  something I, and friends, know all too well. I am guilty of believing that I can control my actions with a high BAC. Nice try. This has lead to many guilt cycles, that which I feel like I cannot and do not express, and reinforcing the apologia paradigm. 

The topsy-turvy, holy-fucking-drama-batman events of this weekend all culminated in one of the most chaotic and shitty rides of my thus-short (also not a word) cycling career. Although I feel that Mission Road will teach me a great deal about the nature of racing and riding a bike, and I will do my best to embrace it, I will curse it the whole way. Especially when I'm getting alternately rained on and sunburned. 

This will be the only and final year I try to extend my birthday beyond its menial one day. Everyday's me fucking birthday. And yours too. <3

HuZZAH!