My husband, being the passionate social justice warrior that he is, shared this zine with me today on racial capitalism and prison abolition. I wasn’t feeling well today so it was nice to have something to read to try and take my mind off my stomach ache. I don’t always fully grasp some of the issues my husband discusses but this zine really spells it out. Please share far and wide.
Dear daughter,
By now I have probably taken you to see the rural area where I grew up. Life is different there — my childhood looked a lot different from yours. There weren’t a lot of opportunities out there but I was very fortunate because grandpa had the means for us to travel, take classes, and just get out of the area occasionally. I knew there was a whole world out there and many of the people I grew up with never saw that. I’m not trying to put anyone down — I had a great childhood there. I just knew when it was time for me to leave.
Whenever grandpa made opportunities available for me outside of our rural area, he always told me to be a sponge and just absorb everything I can. He specifically said this before I left for my exchange year in Denmark. After spending some time abroad, I knew exactly what he meant and I was thankful for his advice. I took in as much as I could while I was in Denmark and it affected me greatly — it affects me to this day. Seeing a different way of life made me want to improve my own.
So now I’m saying the same to you — be a sponge. You undoubtedly will have many different experiences growing up and I’m happy that we live in a diverse area with many opportunities. Definitely take advantage of that. Who knows where life will take you.
By the way, I am also secretly hoping you will get the chance to study abroad. It is absolutely life-changing.
Love,
Mom
Meet Megan Ginter Rahm, Freethought Blogger as she chats with us about her upcoming poetry book, entitled, “Free to Roam: Poems from a Heathen Mommy”. She lives in Toledo, Ohio. She says that she has not met any of us, so I hope y’all will join us for an evening of conversation and poetry.
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Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. There are no ridiculous religious celebrations or scrambling to buy gifts — it’s just dad’s amazing cooking and my family’s laughter. It’s low key and a social situation I actually look forward to. We all crowd into the kitchen at my dad’s condo and have a beer before the meal. We then stuff ourselves full of yummy food before my uncle leads us outside for a fart walk.
Thanksgiving is one of our family’s best traditions for sure, so obviously I’m pretty bummed that it’s not going to happen this year.
But we all know the importance of staying home.
Thanksgiving will just be another day that I keep my head down and write. There’s been a lot of those the past several months.
What’s your socially-distanced holiday going to look like?
Stay safe no matter how you decide to spend your day.
Sorry, I haven’t posted for a while.
For the past few months, I have been writing a book about my experience as an atheist with a mental illness. I’ve had a lot of ideas for the past few weeks as well as a lot of drive, so I just went for it — even though it meant neglecting my blog for a couple of weeks. I’ve been writing my butt off and I’m happy to say I’ve made a lot of progress, but I’ve also learned a lot about writing, myself, and recovery. I always think of myself learning from projects at work or school, but gaining knowledge and experience from writing this book, a project of my own doing, has given me a sense of independence, and it’s empowering.
In the book, I write a lot about my eating disorder which has been painful and at times confusing — like I just can’t put my thoughts and emotions into words. I gave a few pages to my husband to read hoping he could shine a light on the places where I was having difficulty, however, he thought it was really good, and to my surprise, those few pages gave him some much-needed insight. He didn’t realize the depths of my eating disorder at its current state. I’m not doing anything dangerous, but I have a lot of weird habits that range from annoying to dysfunctional. He said he’d be more gentle when reacting to my behaviors toward eating.
Then there’s writing about my schizoaffective disorder — which I’ve done so many times before. There have been points where I felt like I was just spewing out information, but now I’m working on telling a story — creating visuals and making it interesting. I try to give as many details as possible — especially when discussing psychosis — in hopes of showing the true nature of mental illness and recovery.
This book has been revealing — even to myself as the author. It’s really making me examine where I stand in my recovery. I didn’t plan this project too far in advance, but it really feels like it’s something I need to do right now, not just for writing, but also for my life — how am I doing and where am I going? This has been a very rewarding project and I can’t wait to see what the end product will look like.
I will keep you updated and post again soon. I hope you are all doing well!
I am having trouble putting my thoughts into words with the question I have.
When you are first attracted or become romantically interested in someone, which is more important — something that makes them interesting as an individual or their gender?
I consider myself mostly straight and I am married to a man. I fantasize about men a lot, but I fantasize about women a fair amount as well. Unfortunately, I do not have enough experience with other genders.
I guess I sort of have a type — I like men that are nerdy, smart, and older than me, but really I have been attracted to all sorts of people. I feel a unique feature or interesting personality pulls me in more than anything else.
I’ve just always felt that when you fall in love with someone that it’s with the person and maybe at that point, their gender doesn’t matter as much.
But what about when you first meet someone? What matters the most? For me, if it was person vs gender, I think person would win every time.
Am I making any sense? Does anyone else feel this way?
I just wanted to share some cute pictures.
My daughter is really into dinosaurs right now, so we decided to go to the Field Museum in Chicago this past weekend. I was a little nervous to go with the pandemic, but the museum wasn’t crowded at all. They limited ticket sales and it was actually really nice.
I love having a four-year-old. She’s so curious about everything and always asks a million questions. I hope that never fades.
I am currently writing a collection of letters to my daughter that I can hopefully put in a book about secular parenting at some point. I want to share a letter I recently wrote. It doesn’t really have anything to do with a secular childhood, but it’s still kind of fun, nonetheless.
Dear daughter,
When I first went to college, I was occasionally called “fresh off the farm” due to my country accent. I was embarrassed. I actually worked pretty hard at trying to sound like I was from the city or suburbs. One word where my accent was particularly noticeable was “again”. I would pronounce it “ah-gee-an”. I didn’t even realize I was putting a whole extra syllable in it until it was pointed out to me. I practiced saying “again” over and over and my accent became less noticeable. I now think it’s pretty sad that I was self-conscious of how I spoke and I regret ever trying to change it.
Meanwhile, I had a professor from Mississippi who had lived here in Ohio for decades and still had a thick Southern accent. He didn’t care. It was a part of him and even kind of charming. I should have followed his example.
Today, I am proud of where I’m from and I know I can’t help how I speak. Now I consider it an endearing part of who I am — just like my professor from Mississippi.
I know as a teen and young adult you will probably want to get the hell out of Ohio — I know I did. And that’s okay. You are free to explore and I encourage you to go.
Our ancestors were some of the first settlers to the Great Black Swamp of Northwest Ohio and our family has lived here for generations. This is my home and I hope you feel that way, too — whether you settle down here or not. I hope you will have many good memories to carry with you as you find your place in this world.
Wherever you end up, please always be proud of who you are and where you’re from. You will always be welcome here.
Love,
Mom
Who else here has a fun accent? Are you proud of where you’re from?
I know my daughter is only four, but she seems to be a bit destructive these days. Recently, she cut up two of her toys with scissors — an alien and a dinosaur. I really don’t know why and it was kind of impressive how much damage she could do with a pair of kids safety scissors.
My husband thought nothing of it but I found it disturbing. I’m very sensitive and tend to personify everything. I name my belongings and talk to my plants. I’ve always been like that. I would have never purposely hurt my toys when I was little.
It’s not just cutting up these two toys; my daughter throws things away with no problem. If she makes a drawing or painting she doesn’t like, she throws it away. I still struggle with that, hence the numerous paintings in our garage.
It seems like I can find a personal connection to or sentimental value in almost anything so I find it shocking when my daughter doesn’t give getting rid of something a second thought.
I know my daughter is only four and this is way more about me than her, but I am really curious if there are any other atheists out there with this kind of sensitivity. Obviously, I know people and things don’t have souls but I still somehow feel connected to things and feel guilty if they’re not respected.
Are there any other super sensitive atheists out there?
Like most people, my job has been greatly affected by Covid-19. Our office closed in mid-March, reopened in mid-June only to close again two weeks ago. I am still getting paid and I do what I can from home. While I love working for a local nonprofit, the disruption in our programming due to the coronavirus has given me a lot of time to write.
During this time I completed my poetry book and submitted the final manuscript to the publisher back in July.
I have been working on other projects — a series of essays on being on atheist with a mental illness and a collection of letters to my daughter of lessons from a secular childhood. I also started writing a chapbook of erotic poetry. There’s just so much I want to do.
I don’t know if I’ll end up having a job at the end of this pandemic, but I feel I have to live in the moment and take advantage of every free minute I have to write and explore new projects. When will I ever have an opportunity like this again?
The seriousness of the situation is not lost on me. I barely leave the house and when I do I always have a mask on. The thought of possibly losing my job is always in the back of my mind.
But right now I just want to write.
Has anyone else picked up some new projects during the pandemic?