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.

Loss

I just lost someone. Don't apologize to me. Don't offer me your prayers. Don't tell me she's in a better place. Or she's in heaven. She's not. She's gone. The body and biological circuitry and consciousness that was her has shut down. All that's left is a shell. She's not in some mythical eternal place with a magical deity. She's not been reunited with all of her loved ones to live for the rest of time. She existed for 88 years on this Earth. Now, she's not here.

Her body will break down. The earth will reclaim her. The atoms that are a part of her body will be recycled. She'll become the air, the water, and the flowers. She'll bear witness to millions upon millions of lives and events that are to come, yet she'll know none of it.

We, her loved ones, will sit together and reminisce. We'll smile at the happy memories, and cry remembering the painful ones. We will look to each other and reaffirm that we're family. That we still love each other.

So don't tell me she's in some heaven. Don't pity me. Save your sadness for others.

Instead, go tell your significant other that you love them. Make love, passionately. Kiss like you'll never stop. Spend the night discovering each other again. See how you've changed. See how you've stayed the same. Fall in love all over again.

Hug your child. Hold them close. Play with them. Tell them about your adventures when you were their age. Tell them how proud you are of them. Worry about every decision they make, but let them make it. Encourage them when they fail. Praise them when they succeed. Never let them go a day without you telling them that you love them.

Call your friend. Just chat. Catch up. Go out. Have fun. Smile. Laugh until it hurts. Cry at sad movies. Shop for silly things. Stay in and eat ice cream. Tell your friend how much you appreciate them.

Visit your grandparents. Sit down. Listen. Ask them to tell you their life story.  Laugh with them. Cry with them.  Enjoy the memories. Hug them close and tell them you love them.

See your parents. Thank them for everything they've done for you. Share your own parenting mishaps. Acknowledge that they were right, once in a while. Tell them you appreciate their wisdom. Hug your mom. Hug your dad. Tell them you love them.

This is all we got, folks. This one life. Make it count. Enjoy every day, no matter how it turns out.

When they are bursting with activity. When you stay in your pj's all day. When you have a crappy day at work. When you have an absolutely amazing day. When you are sick. When you are well. When you love. When you fight. When you make up. Whatever day it is, it's another day in your life. Your unique life. Cherish it, even when it's hard.

Goodbye, Great Grandma. And thanks for all the cards.

McDonalds is the "Lord's House" (Why I think faith healing is the worst thing, ever)

Saw something at McDonalds today that pissed me off. There was an older woman who looked like she was down on her luck sitting with a woman who was early 30's, perfect make-up, etc. The older woman was talking to the younger woman about all of her health problems, family problems, etc. She said that she had been praying that everything would get sorted out, but so far no luck. The younger woman started telling her that god would take care of her and not to worry. I believe she said something along the lines of "go to a doctor, even though you can't afford it, and god will take care of it." Also, younger woman was asking about how much money the older woman saved for tithing. The older woman admitted that she couldn't afford to do so. She tries, but she needs the money. Younger woman started trying to convince older woman to give money to younger woman's ministry.

 It took all I had to not walk over and bitch that younger woman out.

How DARE you prey upon someone who is down on their luck with your useless drivel to try and get more money for yourself? That is fundamentally SICK! Why don't you offer some of your swindled cash to the poor woman who can't even afford to get all the medications she needs to survive?! Stop buying goddamned $3,000 diamond tennis bracelets and HELP SOME FUCKING PEOPLE IN NEED!!!!!

I hate, HATE the people who claim that God can heal anyone. Some very close people in my life have major health issues that cannot be completely cured by modern medicine... yet. So they try and rely on faith healing. And when that inevitably fails, they fall into a spiral of self-hate and loathing, thinking that they are not worthy enough for god to heal them. Then they decide they will try again, convinced they will be miraculously healed. They'll be a fully functioning human being again! Able to walk unaided, able to work again! And then faith healing doesn't work. So they try again. And again. The same vicious cycle over and over, each time killing them a little more on this inside.

How is this not illegal? How is this not fraud? And what about when there are children involved? Look at this article. Two dozen children. TWO DOZEN!!! Twenty-four innocent lives lost because the parents have their heads so far up the ministry's ass that they can't see the world around them.

Science has done so many wonderful things in the past 25 years and has advanced modern medicine to the point that we could be looking at a cure for AIDS sometime in the next 20 years. We have eliminated two diseases in the world, smallpox and rinderpest. Polio is well on its way. Vaccines have allowed us to protect our children. We don't have to go through the heartbreak of losing many of our children to disease, as our grandparents and great-grandparents did.

All of this wonderful advancement, and religious people are trying to send us back into the middle ages. Jenny McCarthy has led countless parents away from potentially life saving vaccinations for their children, compromising others who cannot have the vaccinations for REAL medical reasons.  Whole religions reject modern medicine, including Jehovah's Witnesses and Church of Christ, Scientist. These people and groups are compromising not only us, but our children as well. We, as a society, rely on herd immunity to help keep our children safe. The less people who are not vaccinated or who don't vaccinate their children, the less effective our herd immunity becomes. Because of this, we are seeing outbreaks of measles and whooping cough, both of which are potentially deadly.

I honestly could go on and on for days about how I feel. This is a very, VERY important topic to me. Relying on faith healers is not only setting yourself up for emotionally trauma, but could potentially keep you from getting a life saving treatment. You not only put your health on the line, but your family's well-being, and potentially the health of everyone you come in contact with. And that is just plain selfish.

I leave you with a wonderful video by the lovely and talented Tim Minchin. He sums up exactly how I feel about prayer being a healing tool.

Thank You God - Tim Minchin

Zombie Jesus Day

Happy Zombie Jesus Day!!! Also, happy anniversary to me of the day John's cousins started their hate campaign against me. If anyone is curious as to why that is, it's because I decided to share Cyanide and Happiness' annual zombie jesus day comic on my OWN facebook wall. I know people must be tired of hearing about my troubles with John's family, but it still bothers me to no end that they liked me well enough for the first 5 years of knowing me. With one silly picture, they decided that they hated me. It's ridiculous. I did not address it to them. I did not point at them by name and laugh. Hell, when I posted it, I was still religious! But they could not stand someone being able to laugh and appreciate a silly view of the Easter story. They cannot laugh at themselves. Lest you think they're a completely humorless lot, the last time I sat and talked to them, they spent the whole time making fun of dwarves (Little People, Big World started that one). They have no problem being bigoted towards anyone not like them.


As for their religious views, what happened to hate the sin and not the sinner? No, let's not try to just get along. Instead, we're going to make you feel completely isolated, alone, and unloved whenever you come near. Yes, it hurts me. I will say all day long that it doesn't bother me, but it does. It hurts so much that my husband's family will never accept me back into their lives. It hurts me that I feel like I'm forcing John into choosing between me and his family. It hurts me that I am perfectly willing to look past different views and attempt civility for them to just throw it back in my face and act petty and arrogant. It's gotten to the point that I feel physically ill when we are going to any family function. What are they going to say to me when John's not around? How are they going to act towards me just to show how much they hate me? I do everything I can to convince John not to go, or to leave me at home. I cry, I get angry, occasionally I throw up. I do NOT want to see these people. I may be a masochist, but seeing these people is a pain I can't handle. But in the end I do go because John appreciates me going. Believe it or not, he actually likes my company. He also likes to know that I have his back if anyone starts asking uncomfortable questions. I cheerily steer the questions away to more trivial topics. I also go because I admit to having a slight feeling of satisfaction knowing that the family members I have the problems with are angry that I don't just stay home in shame. It's about the only satisfaction I get out of going. Oh, and by the way, they only have a huge problem with MY atheism, not John's. They're willing to talk to John. Me, they completely ignore. And I have NEVER in person spoken about my religious views to them. I only ever post about it on facebook, and even then not as often as John.

By now, some of you are asking what the point of this post is? Why continue to complain about them? Why talk about family problems in a semi-public way? Because I need to. I need to express my thoughts and feelings about this. I need outside perspective about the situation. I need to rant and rave and shake my head in disbelief at stupid situations. And I know at the end of the day, posting about it isn't going to magically solve the situation, but it makes me feel a bit better.

Hope you all enjoy your Zombie Jesus Day today. Remember to laugh, love, and enjoy spending time with your loved ones.

Credit to Cyanide and Happiness

A Change in Attitude

This blog will now be a sort of personal diary for me. A place to post whatever happens to cross my mind, or where I can just bitch it out. Today is one of the days that I need to just yell.

This has been bugging me for a while and I just need to get my thoughts out. And, yes, I do have John's permission to talk about it.

My father-in-law was talking to John recently and told him that he was surprised that we were actually on track for getting the house. He said he never thought we would because we "aren't getting any help from upstairs." He is convinced that we will never have anything go right in our lives until we "came back to Jesus." What the fuck? That actually physically hurt me when he said that. It hurts that he can't open his damn eyes and see that his son is happy with what he has in life. I know that John would do anything for his parents. He is a wonderful, caring, and compassionate person. He just so happens to not follow any religion. Because of that ONE thing, his father does not think of him as a good person, but rather a fool. If he keeps it up, he is going to ruin the relationship he has with his ONLY child.

As for the praying aspect, answer me this. Are there still starving children in this world? Are there still people who don't have a roof over their heads at night? How about the poor man in New Philly who sleeps in a make-shift tent that he built out of garbage bags, who has to beg and scavenge for food? What is going to help him more, me buying him a warm meal and a few extra blankets, or wasting my breath on meaningless phrases and hoping he gets by? Isn't it outright SELFISH to pray for one's own happiness before the needs of the rest of the world?

As for praying itself, people have been praying for CENTURIES to end world hunger and the like and it hasn't exactly worked, now has it? Thanks, but I won’t waste my breath and instead actually try to help out. John and I don’t have a lot, but you better be sure as hell that we donate to organizations who do actually help. Doctors Without Borders is our favorite. And what does my father-in-law send his money to? Already rich preachers who have their own mega churches and who claim that they can solve all the worlds problems. When we went over recently, his dad had a program running about how if you sent in $7, $77, or $777 to this guy you could help convert 7 Jewish families to Christianity! I am willing to live and let live, but when religion starts interfering with people’s personal choices, IT HAS TO STOP!

This makes me sound like I hate my father-in-law. I don't. Indeed, I am very grateful to him for being willing to help with John's loans. But he's getting to the point of being so out of touch with his son and his feelings that I don't know what to do. I guess I'll just keep trying to keep the conversation nuetral between them and steer it away from politics and religion as much as I can. Maybe one day, he can just agree to disagree and just enjoy his son for who he is.