You're not weak
Capitalism is the super toxic bad boy in a reimagining of the teen movie - not good
An ask: the Irish government is exploring offering free contraception. Hormonal treatment in the form of oral contraceptives is one way I tackle the symptoms of endometriosis, a condition which I have and like to talk about. I go to the doctor numerous times throughout the year and I get a prescription and pay for drugs in a pharmacy a few days after my visit. It is not a cheap habit slash obligation. It actually annoys me that on top of having an incurable condition, I have to pay some sort of toll to get on with my life. I understand the planet earth as run by humans is the last place to seek fairness and balance, but we have a small window of opportunity here to make life easier for women. And me. After all, this is my newsletter. Google solipsism. Contribute to the consultation here. Get me some free or heavily subsidised meds. Be a saint. Now to the main feature.
Earlier this month a woman was telling me about her sister who lives abroad in one of those cities where movies take place. Is she ever going to come home? Apparently she wants to, but not just yet. This woman, who I don’t know and is therefore being communicated to you all under the double smog of hearsay, feels she hasn’t accomplished anything yet, and doesn’t want to return until she has a footnote somewhere.
Doesn’t that strain a heart muscle? To feel you can only come back to the bosom with spoils of war, a sensical LinkedIn, having featured in some ‘The Irish Flying the Flag in X City’ feature? That’s a failure on all our parts. (I have lots to say on mild attempts at fame, another day.)
My favourite fairy tale for many years has been my version of the princess and the pea: a woman who feels, even when she’s the person imposing and at a disadvantage, that her comfort matters. She is a entitled houseguest, yes, but that bed fucked her up. Also, the crazy mam did put the pea under that mattress.
I googled what the moral of the princess and the pea was and the internet told me it “warns the reader about the dangers of jumping to conclusions without all the facts.”
We have to stop seeing life as a quest, especially when it’s one that is draining us and bruising our backs when we lay down to rest. We have to stop seeing stories where we return empty handed, stage right as the prodigal son, as neat tales of failure and soft weakness. We’re in a world that is too damn hot and expensive, being here and getting through the week is strength enough. Having mini flashes of doubt, tears, fuck this - that’s proof we haven’t drank the kool-aid.
A friend shared with me her fears about workplace anxiety and I told her, “Imposter syndrome is capitalism gaslighting you.” We need to give up this idea that we’re the most important hunter-gatherer. And that we’re automatically failing if we’re floundering. This mode of late stage capitalism existence is going to thin our hair, bloat and knot our guts, disrupt our sleep. We’re not paid enough to give a shit, and if you are, you’re probably working for a shower of arseholes. (Every billionaire is a policy failure.)
When we’re in a mediocre to bad spot we need to make like the sodden princess at the strangers’ door and ask for a place to sleep and when we don’t have a good night’s sleep, we have to say aloud: “Yeah, last night/that job/that city/that person/that decision didn’t work out for me.” And then catch up on our shut eye.
P.S. Speaking of expensive, the other afternoon I stopped in a pub in the southside suburbs - a bar Dan has described as having Big Second Marriage Energy. I was close to fainting from exhaustion and the heat. After I had a sit down and did some breathing exercises, I got wings and a G&T and the bill was €20.50. I will not be going back.