An Open Letter to my Husband (Or, how I try to out cheese my hubs)

Dear Schnooky.
No. Wait. Too much.
Let's go with this:
Dear John,
(Much better!)
     Nearly 10 years ago, on a warm summer morning, we met at band camp. You were the ex-boyfriend of my now-ex-best friend's sister. If I am to be honest, you looked like an underfed creature with no sense of style whatsoever.
     My ex-friend introduced us. I'd like to say that it was love at first site. It wasn't. At least, I don't think it was? I don't remember. I remember being infatuated with you. I remember asking you out and then being terrified that you'd hate me forever. I definitely wasn't ready for a relationship. I was waaaayyyyy too immature.
     We eventually became best friends. I'd call you all the time. I remember stealing your wallet so I could find your number. You never had a peaceful evening again after that. I'm sure I annoyed your parents with how frequently I called.

     I remember all the fun times we had in band together. My friend and I would poke pencils and drumsticks through your curls. You'd come over to my house to hang out. We'd watch stupid flash videos on Albino Black Sheep. (Kamikaze Watermelon!) I think you just came over because we had faster internet than you.
     I remember you having a crush on someone else. I remember trying to get you to talk to her. Nothing ever came of it. Spoiler alert.
     You graduated. You were heading off to college. I was terrified that we wouldn't be friends anymore. That you would just go away and forget me. You assured me that I was being silly. You would be there for me no matter what.
     When fall rolled around, you started your freshman year at Akron. I was a sophomore in high school. We talked almost every night. For hours. You would tell me about your classes. I would tell you about the stupid petty high school drama. We both told each other how much we missed hanging out. This is when I started falling hard for you. You, still, were oblivious.
     I would come up and visit. We'd spend the day, wandering around campus. We'd ALWAYS get Taco Bell. I'm pretty sure your roommate suspected something.

      You came over for New Year's, along with some friends. We sat on the loveseat together. You were leaning against me. My arm gradually settled around you. In that inevitable post-game analysis, my friend told me she was certain you were going to kiss me.
     Later in January, I was supposed to go to homecoming with a friend. Petty drama prevented me from doing so. You happened to be home that weekend. So, you came with me, my friend, and my parents to Olive Garden. We all dressed up in our best. You looked so handsome. I remember offering you a bite from my plate. You ate it right off the same fork that I had been using.
     It became increasingly clear that you felt something. I don't think you were sure what, though. Some other evening in early February, you came over again. One of my friends was also there. We carried out my mattress so we could lay on it together and watch "Phantom of the Opera." We insisted it was just so we could be comfy. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you laid your hand over mine. For half an hour. Then you had to leave. We didn't finish the movie.
     I don't think I can adequately describe the feelings that shot through me. Disbelief. Shock. Happiness. Fear. Confusion. After that night, something changed, but I didn't want to say a word. I didn't want to lose what we had. So I stayed silent.
     February 12th, 2006. It was a Sunday. It was the band concert. You came home just to see it. Your ex-girlfriend and my ex-friend told you that you were oblivious. You said you didn't understand.
     We went back to my house and attempted to watch "Phantom of the Opera" again. You laid your hand on mine again. Then our fingers intertwined. I remember Alex came bounding in and jumped on the bed. You didn't let go of me. We merely moved our hands out of the way.
      We took you back to Akron that night. We cuddled in the back seat the whole way. We left you off at your dorm. I hugged you goodbye.
     When I got home, I immediately got online. We would chat on AIM or Yahoo Messenger all the time. You were on. We started the conversation casually. As if everything hadn't changed between us. It wasn't long before I insisted we figure out exactly what we had between us. You, chicken that you were, refused to say anything first. So, I did.
      "A: Ok.
       A: I like you."
      My heart stopped beating. Time slowed down. Everything mattered on your reply.
      "J: And I like you, too."
     YES!!!!
      "J: But that's where I get confused."
     SON OF A-!
     Nothing got resolved that night. Your parents were against it. You didn't want to potentially lose me as a friend. You didn't think that a Christian should date someone who wasn't baptized. All we knew was that we liked each other.
     The following Saturday, I came up to Akron to see you. We spent the entire time, sitting side by side, arms wrapped around each other.
     The following day, the 19th, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to know what we were to each other. So, I asked you. You didn't ask. You didn't debate. You simply stated, "I think we're dating."

      And, so we went. Through every hurdle, every heartache, every smile, every memory. We were together.
     When I graduated high school, I followed you to Akron.
     February 17th, 2009. You proposed. I was recovering from a bout of food poisoning. Thanks for that.
     We married three years ago, today. It was far from my perfect dream wedding. But I had you and it was more than enough.

     Last February, we bought a house. We made it our home.
     Now, we live here, surrounded with our fur kids. We're raising Alex. We have an overabundance of joy and happiness. We have friends. We have family. And most importantly, we have each other.
     I can honestly say that after knowing you for 10 years, loving you for 8, and being your wife for 3, you are still the most amazing, wonderful, caring person I have ever had the fortune of meeting. I still get the tingle in my whole being every time you kiss me. The smile that lights upon my face when you get home is genuine pleasure at seeing you. Every moment with you has been special.
     I love the laughter that we share. No matter how bad our day might be, we never stop trying to make each other smile. Or facepalm. And that is so special to me.

     I'm so glad that the universe drew us together. On that warm June morning.
     I love you, John. And that will never change.

Love,

Ash

 

An Open Letter to Verizon

Verizon,

I am disappointed in the new commercial your company is airing. It insinuates that nerdy people have trouble finding relationships. This is simply not true. Nerdy people, along with anyone else, can form meaningful relationships, if they so choose.
Also, what if a person doesn’t want a relationship? People choose not to tether themselves to another individual all the time.

Your commercial is also misogynistic. Saying that a woman would not appreciate, and in fact, may get angry over the fact that you are presenting her a gift that you got a deal on is just disgusting. You are portraying women as vapid, shallow creatures who judge their partners by how much money is spent on them.

I’m hugely disappointed in you, Verizon. I hope you will discontinue airing this commercial in favor of promoting a more all-encompassing view.

Sincerely,
A Non-vapid and -shallow Nerdy Woman in a Meaningful Relationship with a Fellow Nerd

Reddit made me! (Or, the history of my faith and deconversion)

Today on reddit, someone posted a discussion in r/AskReddit. It was titled, "Why are or aren't you religious?" A simple enough question.

I realized that I've never really sat down and wrote out why I left christianity so long ago. So, I did. It's long and a bit of a read, but it all needed to be said. This is the exact comment I left on reddit:

To understand why I am not religious, I have to share my history with religion.

My family was generally christian, though we never went to church. I tried twice to be baptized: once to become a Lutheran and once to become a Catholic. My dad chose to use those times to have petty fights with my mother over child support and custody of my middle sister and I.
I stopped going to church entirely until I met my best friend in high school. I still believed in god, though I was always terrified of him. My youngest sister was quite sick when she was little. One of her frequent hospital trips almost resulted in her death. I was always terrified that god would kill her as revenge for some slight sin I was unaware of. My friend thought that was foolish, and asked if I'd like to start attending his Foursquare Pentecostal church and youth group.
At first, it was like a breath of life for my faith. At first, it was all love, sunshine, and roses. And rock music in church? Hell, yes.

As time went by, best friend became boyfriend. He went off to college and I still had two and a half years of high school in front of me. I would go to church with him and his parents whenever he was home from school. During summer breaks, we would both play on the worship team band on Sunday mornings. I got really in to it. I also was dealing with a lot of mental issues. I had been diagnosed with anxiety and depression. This, coupled with the fact that every so often our pastor would decide to go off on one of his end of the world rants, caused me to become terrified of god again. I would lie awake for hours at night, in utter despair because my youngest sister would never have a chance at a full and happy life. The apocalypse was due at any time. Hell, I probably wouldn't even have a chance to marry my boyfriend! I started praying and praying that god would hold off on the apocalypse until after we were all gone. Then, I started becoming terrified that god would kill my family members and loved ones to spite me. I started praying for every family member and loved one by individual name before I fell asleep at night, no small task for someone with a huge family. It got to the point that I would be scared to get up in the mornings, fearful that some terrible disaster would have befallen my family. As I learned how to mostly manage my anxiety, I cared less and less about my religion. I became, as the saying is, "dormant in the faith." I would attend church with my boyfriend because it as a chance to spend a few hours with him, not out of any religious feeling.
As for he and I, we had had our ups and downs during the time when we were long distance. He attended a church right off the campus and started hanging out with a girl that he emotionally cheated on me with. He had flirted with the idea of breaking up with me just to pursue this girl. But once I had graduated high school, I myself headed for college. And yes, I chose to attend the same college as him. Our relationship improved and I even started feeling semi-religious again. We would attend the church that he had found at college on occasion. As the semesters went on, though, we eventually stopped. We didn't have time for god with all of our courses taking up our time. We would still go to church when we went home, he because his family insisted. I, because, well, I didn't like not being with him all the time.

In February of 2009, we got engaged. At the end of the fall semester after that, neither one of us could afford to stay in the dorms anymore, so we decided to move into an apartment together. His parents' reaction was terrible. They were so angry. The rest of his family wasn't happy, either. One of his aunts sent us a letter, telling us we were "working against god" with our blatant sin. I didn't see anyone offering to pay our dorm fees, so we ignored it and moved in together. We decided to tell our pastor, hoping to appease his parents. When we did, however, he literally just turned his back to us and walked away. I was done with church permanently at that point.
We had talked about getting married in his parent's church, but after that fiasco, we decided against it. We were going to do this our way. During our engagement, I made the mistake of posting Cyanide and Happiness' annual Zombie Jesus Day comic on my own facebook wall. My fiance's family retaliated horribly. The vast majority of them stopped speaking to me. Something that is still occurring, nearly 3 years later. During this time, I also stopped really believing in god. I don't have a definite date that I stopped. It just sort of gradually happened. I didn't really talk about how I felt to my fiance. It didn't seem important enough.

During the final bits of wedding planning, my soon-to-be husband came straight out and told me that he was now an atheist. I didn't know what that word was, so I started researching. It made me take a hard look at what religion had caused in my life: fear, anxiety, drama. I realized that I was one, too. I just didn't have the name for it. From that point on, for better or worse, we were done with god and the church. We ended up having a secular wedding ceremony, performed by a friend. Yes, his family was livid. We didn't care. We had each other and that's all that mattered. We didn't need religion interfering in our lives, making us fearful. We could be just as happy without it. And, truth be told, my anxiety became a hell of a lot more manageable without having to constantly worry about going to hell.

Through all of this, my family was just marvelous. They did not care what our religious beliefs were. As long as we were happy, and did good in the world, we were in the clear. It was such a stark contrast to how my husband's family treated us.

It's been almost three years now since we got married. I kind of consider that our official divorce from religion. In that time, my husband and I have become better people. We try and do as much good as we can in the world, not only because it's the right thing to do, but because I personally feel like I need to make amends for what harm I may have caused with my religion. We're also out to prove that we, as atheists, are not evil people. We're just people. There are good ones, bad ones, and everything in between. We cherish this single life we have. This brief moment on this rock, hurtling through space. I make it a point to love as many people as I can, and show them that. Yes, I have my flaws. I am not perfect. I am a human. And that is all I need to be.