Thursday, June 27, 2013

Allow me to invite myself in and whine a wee bit…

I'm tired and frustrated.

Job #1: I work mucking paddocks.  On a good day, it takes my sister and me three hours.  On a bad day, less.  Or, on a bad day, it takes three hours and on a good day, it takes less.  –However you want to look at it.  What concerns me is how much I get paid.  I get 10/hr for this job, which is really good.  I have another job, but the pay is less certain.  Job #1 is nearly every weekday morning, depending on harsh weather.  I count on this job to give me a steady amount of good money.  It's important because my other job has varying hours and less pay.

Job #2: I work at a pick-your-own strawberry farm.  Strawberry season will be over in a week or a little more.  After that, they might put me in the vegetable stand.  It's possible that they'll have me do other work around the farm, you never know.  But, although I work more concentrated hours there, I'm not likely to earn much money cumulatively, would be my guess.

And so, as strawberry season comes to a slow end, my other job hits a bump in the road.  My sister and I are instructed to only do half the paddocks today.  Then next time around, we can do the others, and switch it up.  The only real reason for this new idea I can think of is that their money is running short so they want to cut our hours short.  Karen, the owner, wasn't around to talk this morning, and she sent her husband to let us know.  I didn't ask him about it at the time because I was trying to make sense of it in my head; and then I couldn't find them when we were through.  So one, I couldn't discuss the goal of this change with Karen, and I didn't get paid either.  I was a little frustrated.

So if indeed the idea is to cut my pay in half so they can afford us, I'm screwed.  I have two jobs because the first wasn't really enough to get me through the next semester and then my semester abroad.  So I got a second job.  Now, it looks like the two combined are going to amount to almost nothing.  I may be done for.

But this is only the first day that this has been the official new plan at my first job.  I'm trying to keep myself from hyperventilating and just wait to see what happens.  But I'm feeling the pressure from my parents to make plenty of money and do everything I possibly can to make it happen.  Especially from my mom.  I know they have the best of intentions, but I'm doing my best.  I want the more at least as much as they want me to have it!  And now I'm really anxious, because traveling in Europe will not be cheap – and we wouldn't exactly want it to be, would we?  We expect me to have a ton of fun, but fun costs money.

It just seems that as the summer goes on, I'm going to be making less and less money.  Now, starting Saturday, I'll begin house sitting, and so I'll earn a bit of money from that; but I don't expect it to be very much (I don't even know!) because this woman usually doesn't pay me very much.  …And I just can't imagine how I'm going to make up for the rest of these losses.

I know this is one long rant of a drama queen, but I had a burst of writing inspiration and now I haven't been writing lately so I thought, as long as I have something to complain about, I might as well whine about it.  And so that's what happened.

However, in many ways, this summer has been the most amazing summer in years.  But in so many ways, it could be so much better.  I miss my best friends, but they are so far out of reach.  I text one of them nearly every day, which is such a blessing; but the rest are so – too – far from me.  And I'm still learning about myself and I'm so stressed.  But overall, it's going well!

Wishing the best for yours,
~Meggy

Friday, June 21, 2013

In Recognition

If you have a friend
Cherish him or her
A moment of love ought to last longer
Then hours of anger, for
There's nothing stronger
Than love that runs deep
And remember a person is not
Something you can keep

Today is a very special day.  It's the day a good friend of mine turns nineteen.  I could hardly be more grateful for his birthday if I had known him all my life.  In less than a year, he has taught me so much about myself, and taught me so much about dealing with life.  He also reinforced for me that the life God gave me really isn't as bad as I imagine it to be.

He is funny.  He is simple.  He is beautiful.  He is not perfect.  He doesn't let me take myself seriously.  It's nothing he does; it's, rather, what he doesn't do.  He doesn't baby me; he doesn't sympathize; he doesn't dwell on his own misery.  He's the kind of person I'm aiming to be.  And even with all his problems, and even with everything he's been through and continues to go through, he's still aMazing.  And by that I mean, he isn't troubled, moody, undependable, mean, or abusive.  He simply is himself.

He doesn't belong in a catalog.  He's not very tall.  He's not terribly stylish; he's not exactly eloquent.  But he's creative; he loves to laugh; he knows how to teAse without being flirty or demeaning.  He can listen to anything you need to get off your chest, but he's not quite a shoulder to cry on.  He's confident.  He's happy.  He's excited.  He knows what he loves to do, and he intends to do it.

Although we haven't spent a lot of time just relating our woes to one another, it seems to me that, in just the last six months, he's grown a lot since I first met him.  Maybe I did not know him well, and maybe he didn't change during our second semester as much as I think; but it looked like he found himself this past year.  If I'm right about jouRneys to the center of the self, he must still be learning – but I've loved every minute of my journey getting to know him.  The specifics of his background, or his trials, or his deepest worries… they are not acquainted well with me.  But for every rough spot he's ever recapped to me, I admire how he's slid over them and landed on his feet as the man he is today.

I would trust him with anything.  He's gentle and he's sensitive, but he's young.  He hasn't aged beyond his years.  He's still got a bounce in his spirit, determined to go on bounCing to spite the trials that scrape us by.  He would keep my secrets, and his very nature will not allow him to belittle or dismiss me.  He just wants to have fun and share that fun.  And I have the immeasurable privilege, the invaluable gift of being his friend.  When I'm talking to him, I find myself finding motivation to handle my weak moments, because I want to be the best person I can be in return for the joy he's added to my life.

God bless a little girl who is wandering through life, and finds a friend like that.

Happy birthday, dear friend.  I can't wait to see you again.

~Meggy

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Lost in a World

THIS article written by the Mad Elvish Poet was well timed.  When I read it, I was just beginning a new adventure in story writing.  I found it extremely helpful, if only because it inspired and motivated me to really give this book a fighting chance.  Because I know how intimidating a link can be, I'll repost a little bit of it here (I hope she won't mind!).

Of course, a simple discussion is not simple. The movements and tones and words will be dictated by where and with whom. For example, you could have a simple conversation in a courtly setting, where the characters will be stiff and tense, always watching for someone to slip up, always reading for double meanings. Or, the same conversation could happen in passing in a horse barn. See the differences? Keep track of hands and arms. They can do a lot to convey emotion. Also, a nervous person might fidget, shift his weight from leg to leg, or, if sitting, frequently change position.

I found this analysis (and the rest of it – you really should go read it) simplified the problem with dialogue and yet illustrated the complexity.

Then the other day, I overheard my sister discussing one of her characters with my father.  Apparently they were under agreement that this character was a bit disappointing for the fact that he was a replica of the Emperor from Star Wars.  So I suggested, "Come up with one characteristic that makes him… unique from all other characters."  And I was struck by the wisdom of my own words!  Perhaps, when describing characters, a writer should be thinking of ways to surprise the reader.  Make the description stand out in the reader's mind – make him remember the character, see the character in his nightmares.  …Or in his dreams, whichever is appropriate.  I just hadn't thought of it that way before.  Instead of just describing someone, make it so that the character imprints his image on the reader's mind.

I don't know – so many of my blog followers are writers themselves.  You've probably already realized this.  I just wanted to share it.

~Meggy

Monday, June 10, 2013

Moranda, the Witch – Elizabeth's Destiny Calling


"The hag fit her reputation well.  And yet, she instilled more fear than any tale ever has.  She was a magnificent height – perhaps more than expected – but she was stooped slightly.  But then, the very tall can afford to stoop.  And she was hideous.  Her face seemed too wide and large.  It was all thick, rough folds of skin, sagging over her eyes and drooping off her jaw.  Her nose was slumped over as though it had long tired of holding itself erect, hanging ominously over her  tiny, cracking mouth.  Her hair was grey and white, sticking out at all angles under her pointed hat.  Her crinkled, bony hands were apparently paralyzed out before her, groping like she had been scratching out the eyes of naughty children for so long that they had gotten stuck.  Her robes were mere lengths of brown fabric draped over her frame and sewed in place – they had no obvious form to them at all.  The hemline was horrendously uneven.  Her hat was far better kept; it was a tall, strictly pointed hat without wrinkle or fold.  The brim dipped a little on either side of her enormous face, but that is common to ill-made hats and she could hardly be blamed for that."


Do me a favor – don't steal this, eh?

~Meggy

Truly Scrumptious

I used to find awards somewhat irritating.  Perhaps because I didn't get very many.  But every so often, I get an award and I have to answer their questions – and once in a while, those questions are things I like to think about!  So yay!  I've been awarded!!

Scrumptious? Okay.
Rules:
1) Once you are awarded, post about it on your blog and leave a link back to the person who awarded you 
2) Answer all the questions on the tag 
3) Do not award anyone who has less than 100 followers [???]
4) Come up with ten new questions 
5) Keep your questions clean and refrain from using vile language 
6) Tag 5 to 10 people

And now for the questions:

1) What is your favorite TV show?
Probably Doctor Who.

2) Do you have a favorite name that you would want to give your first child?
If a boy, I have this need to call him John Zechariah – but that might change over time.  The reason is that I am particularly attached to Saint John the evangelist and my middle name is Elizabeth (hence, Zechariah, yes? and then John. . . do you follow?) (plus that was the middle name of my first crush. . .).
If a girl, I think I would want to call her Megan.

3) If you had the chance, would you go bungee jumping?
Yes.

4) What movie are you most excited about seeing that is coming out in theaters this year?
Um. . . Monsters University?  That's pretty much the only movie I know about.  Oh! Oh wait!  The Hobbit!  That's coming out this year right?

5) Chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal raisin cookies?
I really can't stand raisins and I'm only okay with oatmeal.  Chocolate chip is it!

6) When you blog, what is one thing that you like to put in your posts?
Tough one.  I like to put something that I hope will be interesting and capture my readers' attention – make them think about something new, or about something old in a new way.

7) What is your favorite quote?
Right now, it might be:
Love is not blind; that is the last thing it is. Love is bound; and the more it is bound the less it is blind.
G.K Chesterton

8) Do you consider yourself a sports person?
No.  Although I enjoy playing sports with friends and I enjoy watching sports with friends, I don't actively follow sports very often and I've never been particularly good at them.

9) Name one place that you would like to go to some day.
Ireland, I think.

10) What is your favorite Bible verse?
God has made everything beautiful in its time. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)


I would tag some blogs but it seems that so many of them have already been tagged.  Let me leave it with this: If I'm following your blog and you haven't been tagged, thou art scrumptious.  I know this seems like a cop-out and it's always lame when people do that – but 'tis true!  And what would you have me do?

My ten questions – should you chose to answer them – are:

1) What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
2) When you think of summer and ice cream together, do you imagine frilly white frocks and potato sack races?
3) What does your dream life look like?
4) Where were you five years ago today? (near as you can figure)
5) Do you have a life goal?
6) How often do you write in your diary/journal?
7) At the end of your life, what do you think you will be most proud of?  Or perhaps, what do you hope people will most remember you for?
8) If you found your dream location but the house was ugly, would you still buy the property?
9) Have you ever held a snake?
10) Were you bored by these questions?

~Meggy

Friday, June 7, 2013

Magnificence is Truly Dumbfounding

I almost can't believe myself, but I nearly didn't write anything for this glorious feast.  I don't write religious pieces very often.  Perhaps I am at fault for this. . . .  But I would be remiss if I skipped over this, most beloved of all feasts on my heart.  . . . .That is, it is the devotion which is the closest to my heart.  Which is ironic, in a way, because it is the Sacred Heart.

I opened my journal today and decided to just do my best at pouring out my heart about it.  This is what happened:
Sacred Heart of Jesus, I bow before Your greatness.  Your magnificence is truly dumbfounding.  Nothing compares to Your radiance; nothing can compete with Your influence on my life.  I express, now, my deepest gratitude to You and my humblest devotion.  No matter what, You have my heart.  You may ever hold my heart within Your own.  Hold it prisoner there if it so pleases You; but I beg You, cast it not away from You when it breaks or turns cold.  Only Your blood, which You shed, could ever make it whole again. 
Sacred Heart of Jesus, I trust in You.
I wanted to share it so I could explain, in some small way, the ardor of my affection for this feast.

I have always been drawn to the Sacred Heart.  I don't know why, but it was only recently that I began to take the interest seriously and delve into it a bit more.  One website I found interesting was this: http://www.sistersofreparation.org/history-of-devotion-to-the-sacred-heart.html.  I was particularly interested to read about Sr. Maria Alfonsa.  I could swear I've heard about her before, but what interested me was that she came to Steubenville – where I'm going to college!  I thought that was so cool!

I also found this website, suggested by http://raindropsandmoonlight.blogspot.com:
I highly recommend it to get further acquainted with this devotion.

And then there's this: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07163a.htm.  I haven't read it but I'm sure it's splendid.

There's also this site, which I've not finished exploring yet: http://sacredheartdevotion.com/

There's one prayer to the Sacred Heart of Jesus that, I remember, really got me hooked:

I fly to Thee Sacred Heart of my Savior, for Thou art for my refuge, my only hope.  Thou art the remedy for all my miseries, my consolation in all my wretchedness, the reparation for all my infidelities, the supplement for all my deficiencies, the expiation for all my sins, and the hope and end of all my prayers.
Thou art the only one who is never weary of me and Who can bear with my faults, because Thou lovest me with an infinite love.  Therefore, O my God, have mercy on me according to Thy great mercy, and do with me, and for me, and in me, whatever Thou wilt, for I give myself entirely to Thee, divine Heart, with full confidence that Thou wilt never reject me.
Amen.

For some reason, this prayer always comforts me or gives me strength.  It hasn't let me down yet.  Perhaps because I believe in it so much.

I also love that it is so closely intertwined with the Eucharist and Divine Mercy.  My house is consecrated to the Divine Mercy and a local parish has Perpetual Adoration in "The Divine Mercy Chapel," which I used to have a weekly slot at; not to mention how much I love the Eucharist.  And the Sacred Heart and Divine Mercy devotions are so closely related.  I'm just head over heals in love with the Sacred Heart.
A friend of mine shared this on Facebook today
and it quickly became my cover photo.
I have also found the letters of Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque in PDF form, if you're interested.  I haven't read much of it but I was super excited to find it so readily available.


My relationship with Mary has been deepening lately as well.  For a long time, I've struggled with it, but not because I was reluctant.  Because I don't have a close relationship with either of my parents, I've long wanted God and Mary to be there for me when they weren't.  Accepting God as my Father took some time, but I developed that devotion years ago (although I wish it was stronger).  My devotion to Mary as my mother has taken longer, but it's finally beginning to sink in.  Not always – sometimes I want to turn to her as my mother but I don't know how and I just end up thinking "Mary" in silence, unsure what to do next.  But that form of prayer has its benefits as well I expect.

So naturally, I'm falling for the Immaculate Heart as well – which is often pictured with her Son's heart:

Just found this picture
and I think I love it!
I've found various ways of depicting the two, however, as sometimes they are both ringed in thorns, sometimes Mary's has a sword through it, or whatever.  It's made me wonder if there is an official, endorsed rendering.  I haven't done my research yet but if anyone knows anything about that, I'd love to have something to start my research with.

And I recently learned that the entire month of June is apparently devoted to the Sacred Heart! Yay!  A whole month to celebrate this wonderful devotion.

I've often wondered why Marian devotions get so much attention.  Is it in response to Protestant disfavor of Mary?  Is it overcompensating?  I firmly believe in Mary's importance, but sometimes the observance of devotions to God Himself seem pale in comparison.  Just something to think about.

~Meggy



Dressing Up

Look, it's not about "how much."  That's the wrong way to go about it.  See, one of the main goals of modesty is that what you wear doesn't distract from who you are.  If you walk up to someone and their first thought (man or woman) is, "Whoa, that's a lot of make-up; whoa, she's busty; whoa, look at her hips."  (It's easier for me to write this about a girl because I'm more familiar with the complaints against women; I'll try to address some issues with men later.)  It's fine for someone to think, "Wow, she's got beautiful eyes," but unless someone has been training themselves to think that way, it probably won't be the first thing on their mind when they meet you. 
Realize that everyone makes first impressions long before anyone's said anything.  When you meet someone, you see their appearance and you make a mental connection in your mind.  If they're sloppy, if they're stylish, if they're preppy, if they're too lightly or too heavily clad – you notice, and it tells you something about them, correctly or no.  So if, ladies, we dress in such a way that draws a lot of attention to our bust or hips, that factors into the "pre-first impression."  Have you ever looked at a picture of someone and looked straight at the person's chest, legs, or hair instead of their face?  Or even something in the background?  Why did you look at those areas instead of their face?  Probably because what you looked at was the most prominent object in the photo – it stood out.  It caught your attention.  So if, ladies, you've got tons of cleavage, people will be thinking about your cleavage, not you, when you meet them.  In the same way, if you're obviously trying to be "modest," that'll be distracting while you're trying to have a conversation.


What does all that mean?  Are we supposed to dress dull and drab in order to keep our clothing from catching someone's attention?  That can't be right.  So. . . what did it mean?

I realize that, as a writer, if you have to explain what you wrote, you've failed.  You should be clear and exact the first time so that you don't become redundant and repetitive as you try to explain yourself.  So, unfortunately, I failed.  The point of my article was to present a "new" and refreshed look on modesty, and so I presented the above point to you as a passing point, not thinking to have to go into too much detail to explain.  However, with that mindset, I ended up only skimming the surface and not satisfying myself with the result.  Thus, the result you read above, plus repetition later on as well.

You shouldn't be conspicuous, but my meaning is that, while expressing yourself and being attractive and allowing yourself to stand out from the rest, you may want to reconsider an outfit that does not fit the venue.  I think one way to further understand what I mean is to pick up a dictionary and read the meaning for modesty.

If you are among a group of people who are dressing like this:


it might not be a good idea to dress like this:


You might want to dress a little less cutesy and flirty because the other suits are more formal and business-like.  Does that make any sense?  Does the difference make sense to you?  You can be an individual and still "match" everyone else.

To prove my point, I'm going to present you with various pictures of business suits for women.  In each picture, the styles of the suits match but the suits themselves vary.  Each picture should be considered separately – as though these people are not all at the same business meeting.




Let's separate this one down the middle, as two pictures.

I'm using this picture so I can mention that there are
situations when you might have a lot of flexibility.
And you can do a lot of things with your hair, too, to stand out from the crowd and still be appropriately attired.

My point in showing you these pictures is not to lay down some guidelines but merely illustrate some examples so that you can understand what I'm trying to say.  I picked business suits because it's easy to compare them (and it's an easy search term for finding pictures).

So, taking everything I've said about modesty – take it, digest it, and move on with your life.  Have fun with life!  Modesty should not be pinning us down – the truth should set us free, yes?  If modesty is making your life miserable, you may have to reexamine why.

~Meggy

P.S. If calling this "modesty" is confusing you, just call it "dressing appropriately," and apply that to my previous post on modesty (which you can find by clicking on the quote).  . . .Although, it is modesty.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

The Holy Fool: The Bikini Question: a Rebuttal

In case you haven't read this, please do:

The Holy Fool: The Bikini Question: a Rebuttal: Recently, a post on modesty has been making the rounds. The article is simply the latest post to specifically target certain types of sw...

You may not agree with everything; it's just important to me that you think about it.  I wrote a post about it a few days ago if you're interested in more thoughts on this topic.

~Meggy

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Mr. Holmes?


Now I'm like: No. Just no.


I watched the first episode of the second season and I was utterly disappointed and disgusted.  Sherlock got to be Sherlock for about ten seconds.  The rest of the time was about a woman who... well, I won't say exactly what she did for a living.  But it was less than honorable.  Sherlock was all over the episode, but he was stuck on this gross woman (who, by the way, introduced herself to him while naked).  It was a terrible episode and didn't really hold up to the reputation of the previous episodes.  The whole point of the episode is that Sherlock is a genius and likes to play detective.  In this episode, he played that role very, very little.  His relationship with the cute girl at the morgue blasted wide open at a Christmas party at the flat he and Watson share together, and not only was it a little odd the way he was carrying on but when he realized that she had dressed up for him, he actually showed some tenderness and kissed her cheek with an apology for being such an ass.  John's own brilliance was in it so deplorably little that I missed him.  Martin Freeman is one of the main reasons I'm here, after all.

It was nice to see more of Sherlock's tender side, which of course he has, but in response to his feelings, he threw a man out his window several times for breaking in and hurting Mrs. Hudson.  His feelings were understandable, but I was unable to find the humor in this – and no one reprimanded him for it.

On the other hand, we got to meet a little bit more of Mrs. Hudson.

And on another hand, our understanding of Sherlock's relationship with his brother increased.  I haven't decided whether or not I'm happy with the way their relationship was playing out in that episode.  Sherlock was very vulnerable and his brother was showing his usual concern, but it almost felt too abrupt to see them interacting with each other so much.

And on the knees (sorry, really bad pun in progress), there was The Woman.  And I beg, "Why The Woman?  WHYYYYYYY?"  And I break down and cry pitifully.

In case you don't know, these episodes are like two hours long.  But I had to watch another to make up for this atrocity.  I didn't end up finishing it, but the point is it was so bad, I had to watch another (assuming that this second episode would be better, of course, which was risky).

On the whole, I like this series.  I do.  But I cannot, in good conscience, recommend it.  There are too many remarks and suggestions and images that are intense and/or inappropriate.  Usually, the rest of the episode makes up for these little deficiencies, but that was not the case for A Scandal in Belgravia.

~Meggy

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

The Search

When I go back over what I've written in my journal, I feel gentle sadness touch my heart.  It's not just Nostalgia, for I am old friends with him also – no, it is sadness.  As I read the struggles that so pitifully clutter the pages of my diary, I am filled with a longing to understand my problems better than I did back then.  I was young; I was foolish; I couldn't see the forest for the trees.  I am older; I am wiser; I have the blessing of hindsight.  And I wish to understand my problems better than I did back then.

But I cannot.  It's true that many of my struggles are far behind me, and that some are buried deep where I hope they will never be found again, and that some are simply over, though not closed.  And yet, when I analyze the inner workings of myself, I cannot find the reason that any of this should be what it is.  I can know how I felt in the midst of a struggle and I can judge what I did in the midst of a struggle; and I can feel heartily ashamed or embarrassed, or relieved.  But I cannot understand why I have done what I have done, whatever it is I have done, that has done what it has done to my heart.

In the past, I fancied I had an answer to my struggles, but I fear it was merely what has been called a placebo.  It does no real good to heal a real wound that festers and pulsates in unheeded agony within my spirit.  Some of these wounds scar, but they close.  And others only cover themselves with scabs that come tearing off with the least bit of tension.  But what is it that choses which wounds will heal and which will not?  Who is it that decides that the simplest wounds will be the deepest, or the roughest ones the silliest?  For yes, some wounds are laughable; mere scrapes on a rose bush – but they are wounds all the same, aren't they?  Never to go quite away.

And it is this which I would understand if I could.  But the deeper I delve, the less I understand.  I look down at the dirt and I think I understand the ground; but I begin to dig, and as soon as I find such sights as delight my senses and intrigue my curiosity, deeper I go, until I no longer see the sunlight, and my wee candle is not enough to illuminate the dark moulder that I have found; so I dig deeper, hoping to understand – but it is clear that I cannot.  I do not understand the dirt better now than I did before.  In fact, perhaps I understand it less than I did then, for now I am all caught up in the little sights that I found to delight my senses, and I no longer look down and say, "This is the ground."  For it is not – having gone under the surface, there is nothing beneath me in this chasm to plant under my feet and be called the earth on which I stood.

I have blasted it open now.  There is no going back.  I must keep searching.

~Meggy

P.S. What do you think – writing-wise, is this overdone?

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Gone Swimming

“Immodesty is present only when nakedness plays a negative role with regard to the value of the person, when its aim is to arouse concupiscence, as a result of which the person is put in the position of an object for enjoyment… There are certain objective situations in which even total nudity of the body is not immodest, since the proper function of nakedness in this context is not to provoke a reaction to the person as an object for enjoyment, and in just the same way the functions of particular forms of attire may vary. Thus, the body may be partially bared for physical labor, for bathing, or for a medical examination. If then, we wish to pass a moral judgment on particular forms of dress we have to start from the particular functions which they serve. When a person uses such a form of dress in accordance with its objective function we cannot claim to see anything immodest in it, even if it involves partial nudity. Whereas the use of such a costume outside its proper context is immodest, and is inevitably felt to be so. For example, there is nothing immodest about the use of a bathing costume at a bathing place, but to wear it in the street or while out for a walk is contrary to the dictates of modesty.”
- Cardinal Ratzinger 

Please read this: http://madeinhisimage.org/the-bikini-question/

I don't recall ever writing about this before.  It's a tough topic, with a lot of tough questions and a lot of tough answers.  There's a huge movement out there promoting modesty, and it comes in from many different directions.  Many of the angles seem legit, and a lot of the statements people make seem true, and a lot of the presenters seem credible.  But if you examine each "modest" person closely, you'll find that their definition of what is modest and why is slightly different.  Why is this??  And what do we do about modesty?

Firstly, I think that a lot of what is said about modesty is wrong.  I can't deny the facts and figures, of course, but I can deny the interpretation; and sometimes, I just might.

What is so commonly said:
  • Guys need help controlling their imagination
  • Modesy is a sacrifice that girls make to help their guy friends
  • Girls need to dress in such a way that gives themselves self-respect for their bodies
  • To be modest, cover the three Bs: bust, butt, and belly
I have a slight problem with these – do you?  For one thing, two of them are directed strictly at girls, the first is implied toward girls and also makes men sound like conscienceless animals, and the last certainly seems inclined toward girls but is much too succinct and trite.

First, I'm a girl; and all I know is – I need help controlling my imagination.  It's not something I like to talk about, it's not something I like to think about – seriously; guys are not the only ones who have those issues.  I resent the image of guys as uncontrollable animals, because that would make me one as well.  But, although it's tough sometimes, I can control my imagination, and anything that comes into my head unbidden is mainly because of what I've fed it and where I've allowed it to go before.  I'd like men to be dressed appropriately and to act appropriately to minimize the risk, but... my imagination is my own fault.  I'm not an animal; I'm a rational being with the ability to direct my mind.  And anyway, what's appropriate?

See, that's where we find ourselves when we talk about modesty.  "What is appropriate?"  But modesty is appropriateness.  It is dressing for the occasion.  On the beach, you would wear a swimsuit; not a ball gown.  If you tried to cover every inch of skin while you were on the beach, you would attract attention.  People would start staring, trying to figure out what the heck was going on.  They'd be looking at your body, objectifying your body.  Look, it doesn't even have to be for sexual reasons.  And of course, on the dance floor, you would wear something formal; not a swimsuit.  A swimsuit is appropriate at the beach; a ball gown is appropriate for a fancy dress ball.

"Yes, but how much skin do I have to cover?"

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