Tag Archives: domestic violence

family, LDS, lessons learned, love, marriage, narcissists, songs

We didn’t need fireworks yesterday. They were in our eyes.

Today’s featured photo is one of several great selfies Bill and I took on our trip. I have a hard time looking that happy in photos without him in them. We seem to light up when we’re together… not unlike fireworks.

I’m not really a super Katy Perry fan, but this song seems appropriate for today’s post…

For my sparkly husband…

Hmmm… I like Katy’s music. Maybe it’s time I listened to more of it.

Yesterday, I spent a good portion of the day working on my travel blog. I still have a long way to go. Preserving memories is something I do for us, even though most people don’t seem too interested. I’ll be honest. I don’t read a lot of blogs myself. Why should I expect anyone to read mine?

It’s funny, because people will eagerly read message boards and social media posts, but they don’t often want to read a blog. However, I have an itch to write, so I do. Sometimes, I like going back and remembering what inspired my posts. So, even though the posts I spent most of yesterday writing have less than ten hits collectively, I’ll probably spend today writing a couple more of them. And I’ll keep doing that until I’ve covered the whole trip. Then, I’ll write other posts about related subjects, and I’ll write reviews for TripAdvisor or Cruise Critic or both… I really am a writer, even if others don’t think so.

I wrote something else yesterday. Just before Bill and I went on our big journey, I went back to the Recovery from Mormonism board. I had taken a couple of months off, because I was kind of pissed off at a couple of regular posters and needed a break. I don’t think that many people missed me, and I was wondering if maybe it was time to move on from that particular spot on the web. Yesterday, I realized that I still do have some things to add to the RfM community, although maybe I won’t be doing it as often as I used to.

Someone posted a thread titled “Sometimes bad decisions turn out to be good.” The thread was about how the original poster had made a poor decision when he married his first wife. But as bad as the initial decision was, and as much pain as the OP went through because of it, in the long run, the bad decision turned out to be a good one.

I couldn’t help but reflect on my husband’s history with his ex wife, and our subsequent love tale. I added a very lengthy response of my own to that thread. I actually hesitated before I wrote it, because I sense that maybe some people on that board don’t believe me… or they think I’m obnoxious or insufferable or whatever. In fairness, our story is pretty incredible. I’ve reread and done some minor editing of what I wrote, and I feel like our story sounds kind of like a made for television movie script. It’s almost contrived. But, I swear, it’s the truth.

It’s almost like Bill and I were destined to be together… but then I realize how easily we could have missed each other in this existence. If one or two things from our personal histories had been different, I might be a 51 year old virgin slogging away in a cubicle, and he might be single, or married to someone not as bad as Ex, but not as compatible with him as I am.

I’m not going to post here what I wrote there, because you can easily find the story in the blog, or you can simply click the link and read the whole thread. But I am going to ruminate on it a little and maybe add some more context to the story.

This could be a song for Bill…

As lengthy and crazy as my post on RfM was yesterday, I really only scratched the surface of our story. I briefly mentioned that Bill was abused by his ex wife in all possible ways, but I didn’t come out and say that he was a victim of domestic violence. I’m sure Ex would deny that she abused him, too… but she did. And it wasn’t just emotional, financial, and mental abuse. She left actual physical scars in private places on his body, as she lied to other people about him. She told my husband’s parents and stepmother that he was an abuser who hates women, when really, the opposite is true. She is an abuser who, apparently, hates men.

Thankfully, Bill didn’t literally burn down any houses, as Martina McBride alludes to in her song, “Independence Day”. But, when Ex demanded a divorce that she didn’t actually want and he agreed, he did sort of figuratively “burn down the house.” That was the moment when the bad decision he’d made in 1990 started turning into a good decision.

In that thread, I shared a video of Bill and me on our Regent cruise. It was the first day, and we were sharing a bottle of champagne. This is the same video I mentioned in yesterday’s post about Bill not liking the sound of his own voice.

Apologies for those who have already seen this… I just want to show how much obvious “chemistry” we have, even after 21 years.

I think videos and photos are a good way of documenting things, and the above video offers people a means of seeing us in a way that my words can’t describe. Years ago, when I first discovered RfM, I tried to share our story, and a lot of people didn’t believe me. I got a lot of scorn and derision, with people openly doubting I was being honest. They figured Bill had to be more at fault for the failure of his first marriage than he was, because so often, it seems like men are the more guilty parties when a relationship fails. A lot of people thought I must be looking at my husband with rose tinted glasses, or just flat out lying.

It didn’t help that I’m his second wife, and a lot of people look at second wives with suspicion, and automatically assume they’re homewreckers. Conventional wisdom tells us that men are typically selfish jerks, and subsequent wives and girlfriends are scheming shrews. Just look at any good fairy tale, or popular movies like The First Wives Club. It took several years before people started to believe me. I think the fact that some people knew me on Facebook really helped. Like I wrote above, seeing photos and videos of people lends credibility. Also, I’ve been hanging out on RfM for over 20 years, and my story hasn’t changed.

I’ve also since learned that when relationships fall apart, no one is ever 100 percent at fault. Even Ex, as abusive as she was, isn’t entirely to blame for their disastrous union. The truth is, Bill made a bad decision that put him in that situation in the first place. He made that choice with the best of intentions, as he does almost every time he makes decisions. Still, he mainly married his ex wife because he had a poor self-image, and because he felt sorry for her, and her son. He believed her lies, and surrendered his critical thinking skills. That’s on him.

Bill is kind, considerate, empathic, and nice to a fault. His father was a very nice person who had a tendency to let people walk all over him. His mom is also a very kind person who made some unfortunate choices that had profound effects on Bill. All of that led to a perfect storm that made him especially vulnerable when Ex showed up in Germany with her toddler aged son in tow. He was ripe for the picking, and she knew it. She took full advantage, and he passively went along for the ride. That part is his fault, not hers. He paid a steep price for that decision, but he takes full responsibility for it. At least he eventually recouped the substantial loss with interest!

As easy as it could be to make Ex the villain, I also realize that what Bill did was wrong. No one wants to be married out of pity. Ex, like most everyone else, wanted to be loved. She lacked the maturity, commitment, and generosity of spirit that true love requires. In my view, unconditional love is a myth. Even parents and children sometimes fall out of love with each other. Everyone has a red line, where a person can go too far and the relationship is ruined. She didn’t want to allow Bill to have a red line. She demanded that he prove to her that she could do no wrong. It wasn’t a realistic thing to ask of him. She wanted a perfect machine, not an imperfect man.

I think Ex expected unconditional love, and she continually tested Bill to get him to show her how unconditionally he loved her. She also didn’t reciprocate. It was a plan that was bound to fail, because all things have a breaking point.

And, to be honest, Bill didn’t really love Ex… at least not in the same way he loves me. I know it sounds arrogant for me to write that, but it’s the truth. Their marriage wasn’t based on true regard or chemistry. It was based on pity, dishonesty, and anxiety over the prospect of being alone. They didn’t marry because they were best friends who loved being together. They married because he wanted a family, and he felt sorry for her and her son. She wanted a husband with a good job, and she was willing to have more babies to secure her spot in his future.

Bill and I got married because we genuinely love being with each other. There are undeniable sparks between us. We don’t need any fireworks on July 4th. They are in our eyes whenever we’re together. The one thing that both of us did right in our lives is marry each other. We just fit. As I struggle to wear fashionable clothes these days, I realize how rare it is to have a perfect fit like ours… 😉 We are very fortunate. And as much as I despise Ex, I realize that without her, and that terrible decision my husband made in 1990, we couldn’t have this. Somehow, we built a beautiful mansion out of what was originally a smoldering hill of crap.

Bill made me a Strawberry Basil Smash yesterday…
…and homemade Strawberry Shortcake, in honor of July 4th.

I have made mistakes in my life, and I do have some regrets. I wish I had a less irritating, shocking, and outspoken personality, for instance. I wish I were more appealing to the masses and had an easier time making friends. However, if I were that way, I probably wouldn’t be the right woman for Bill. I may be “obnoxious as hell”, as my mom once put it. But there is no doubt in my mind that I am the right person for Bill.

It also isn’t lost on me that my own self-perception of how most people see me may also be somewhat wrong. My mom sent me a card and a letter for my birthday. In her letter, she wrote something that genuinely touched my heart and was the greatest birthday gift I ever could have received from her.

For most of my life, I was under the impression that my mom found me super annoying. My parents and my sisters used to criticize me a lot, for everything from my appearance to the way I laugh. I got a lot of shit from people about my laugh, which you can hear for yourself in the above video. My dad actually hated it, and told me so. He said I sounded like a witch cackling. My sisters used to tell me it sounded “fake”, when– sorry– that is honestly the laugh God gave me. I really can’t help it!

Well… in her recent letter to me, which was accompanied by a funny birthday card referencing dogs’ common obsessions with their own feces, my mom wrote this…

“I wouldn’t just send anybody this card! I started reading it and started laughing, remembering Rhonda and Ginger (two beloved dogs we had when I was a teenager) and knowing a dog lover would enjoy it– also remembering how you laugh at things– I miss that laugh!!!”

My mom has changed a lot since my dad passed away almost 9 years (to the day– he passed on July 9) ago. She’s no longer under so much stress, so she is much happier and kinder. I know she misses me. She might be one of the few. 😉 I’ll have to give her a ring today.

Well, I supposed I’ve prattled on long enough. Time to practice guitar, walk Noyzi, and write more about our trip. I hope this post made some sense… and, as for Ex, I reiterate the wisdom in this song, which I recorded some months ago…

“I just might sneak up… and try to make him mine!” 😉

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communication, domestic violence, relationships

Sometimes a person’s palms really can predict the future…

Ugh… Thursday again. Time to break out my riding vacuum cleaner. I’m kidding, of course. I don’t own a riding vacuum cleaner. I wish I did. Maybe I should buy a couple of robots to do the vacuuming, as that is one of my least favorite jobs, ever. I need a nice slim one, that can get under the bed!

Before I get to my most hated household chore, I want to write a blog post about a couple of relationship fails I’ve read about this week. I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but Am I The Asshole has become one of social media’s hottest trends. It seems like a lot of formerly awesome content providers, like God, have resorted to sharing AITA posts from Reddit. It’s pretty tiresome, although sometimes they do share some thought provoking doozies. That’s what I’m going to write about today, because I don’t feel like writing about politics or religion.

Both of the AITA posts I’m going to address have “hands” in common. Hands are a powerful means of action. They can be used for so many good and useful things, from doing work to communicating. They can even be read by palm readers, seeking to tell the future. But hands– particularly the palm part of them– can also be used as weapons, either through physical contact, or by spreading disease, as my discussion of these two posts will demonstrate.

Post number one…

There’s a lot wrong with this.

I’d like to know what redeeming qualities this guy has that his girlfriend hasn’t dumped him yet. Basic hygiene is something most of us learn at very early ages. It’s especially important nowadays, in the wake of the pandemic. And yet, here’s this apparently grown woman writing to Reddit about her boyfriend, who doesn’t bother to wash his hands after taking a dump. She thinks his refusal to wash his hands properly is why she keeps getting urinary tract infections.

Now… there is something to be said about washing too much. Some people really are germaphobes. Overuse of antibacterial soaps is also not good for a person’s health, since it can lead to antibiotic resistance. However– basic handwashing is essential for preventing the spread of disease. Moreover, it’s just super gross not to wash your hands after going to the bathroom. Even if you haven’t pooped, other people probably have, and their fecal residue is everywhere. When you flush the toilet, that shit literally flies everywhere. So yes, you need to wash your hands with soap. If you don’t do it for your own health, you should do it for the continued good health of the people you love.

Eeeew…

Secondly, it really says something when your partner says they will honor what the people on Reddit say, rather than what you, as their significant other, say. It sounds like this guy has no respect for his girlfriend on even the most basic level. He has no self-respect, either. I can only think of one reasonable explanation for his reluctance to wash his hands… and that is that maybe he subscribes to the George Carlin theory on hygiene.

But George, who is currently dead, did at least wash his hands when he shat on them.

If this guy actually was a George Carlin devotee, I would hope he’d have more self-regard than just doing whatever people on Reddit tell him to do. I like to think of most George Carlin fans as higher evolved beings. Anyway, this situation would be a hard pass for me. I’d be ditching this guy ASAP and finding someone a little less dangerous. Asking your partner to wash their hands, especially after shitting, is a small request that should be honored, for everyone’s health and well-being.

Post number two…

Uh… physical violence is definitely a dealbreaker (as are all other forms of abuse).

In this second post, we read about a man who managed to escape a physically abusive relationship with a woman and decided that he would never again tolerate being hit by a romantic partner. He was engaged to his girlfriend and they got into a fight. She slapped him hard across the face. They were both sober at the time, which doesn’t really matter. Drunk or sober, putting hands on someone else in violence is a no go.

The guy who wrote the above letter explains that after his girlfriend slapped him, he wisely decided to call off their wedding. He is obviously a considerate type, as he writes that he said he’d continue to pay his portion of the rent of their shared apartment until the lease ends. However, he doesn’t want to marry her anymore.

She’s claiming that he’s an asshole, because he’s getting so upset over “just a slap”. She says that he’s overreacting. Most telling is that when he told her she’d crossed a boundary, her response wasn’t contrition. Instead, she got very angry and berated him, then basically said he was being ridiculous for establishing a boundary. That’s a huge red flag. He’s right to be concerned about her instinct to strike out physically when there’s a disagreement. And her reaction isn’t to take his concerns seriously, apologize, and address them calmly. It’s to discount and gaslight him into accepting that behavior.

Those of you who have been reading my blog may know that my husband, Bill, endured years of abuse at the hands (and mind) of his ex wife. She gave off many warning signs before they married. In fact, the day of their wedding, they had a fight. However, because Bill didn’t want to make a fuss or disappoint anyone, he went through with the wedding… even though the warning bells were chiming loudly on their wedding day!

That was a huge mistake…

Almost ten years later, Bill emerged from that relationship in serious financial trouble, with literal physical scars, and figurative mental and emotional scars. He was estranged from both of his daughters for many years, and remains estranged from his older adult child. That relationship was terrible enough for him, but it also had ripple effects on many of his loved ones: his mom, his dad, his stepmother, his sister, his children, and me… as well as anyone who has had to listen to or read my rantings about his ex wife’s latest bullshit.

Divorce is messy and expensive, and it’s a sure bet that if this fellow marries his girlfriend, there WILL eventually be a divorce. The only way there wouldn’t be is if one of them died, or if they went through some very reformative relationship counseling. Moreover, if the guy did call the police after being physically abused– which he should be able to do without any fear— odds are, he would be the one in handcuffs.

I think the letter writer is smart to break up with his girlfriend over “just a slap”. Men absolutely can be abused by women. I’ve seen it up close and personal, and it’s not good. So no, he’s NOT the asshole for breaking up with that woman. Hopefully, she will get some therapy and deal with her issues before someone else marries her.

Bill and I are very fortunate. We get along extremely well and barely ever fight, let alone hit each other. There was only one time in over twenty years of marriage when I did put my hands on his neck, but it wasn’t meant to be an act of violence. It was not an angry action directed at him, and he wasn’t hurt in any way. He did automatically react to it, which immediately made me feel terrible. I even offered to sleep in the guest room, and he said it wasn’t necessary. I also apologized profusely, and it has never happened again. But even in that incident, I wasn’t fighting with him, nor was I even angry with him. I just reacted in the moment, not realizing that he would automatically be triggered in the way he was. The fact that he did react in that way is very telling.

Unfortunately, our culture promotes the idea that only women can be victims of abuse. Although most people are sensible enough to realize that anyone can be abused, some people– like Ex– take advantage of the idea that women are always the victims of domestic violence. When Bill and I were first married, he told me that he knew he could hurt his ex wife, yet he was telling me stories that were clearly indicative that he was a DV victim. When I gently pointed out to Bill that his ex wife was a domestic abuser, he was shocked and horrified. But then he agreed, had the roles been reversed, and Ex had been treated by Bill the way she’d treated him, he wouldn’t have questioned it. Even younger daughter knew Bill was abused by Ex; she probably saw #3 being abused, too. She went as far as sending him an article on male victims of domestic violence.

So no… the letter writer in the second post is NOT an asshole at all. He’s being smart. It’s better to be alone than have to live with someone like that and then get divorced. I endured physical abuse from my father, and it made me decide that anyone who hits me had better kill me. That doesn’t mean I would respond with violence; it simply means that they might really regret their actions afterwards. As I’ve mentioned before, I am NOT a people pleaser.

Anyway… there are more ways your palms can tell the future than just through a palm reading. If you’re with someone who refuses to wash their palms properly, especially after a bowel movement, you might want to move on. Likewise, if you’re with someone whose palm ever meets your face with force, it’s time to flush that turd of a relationship and find someone more respectful… and respectable.

So ends today’s post… Now, I’m off to tend to the chores of the day. It’s a holiday in Germany, so it’s probably going to be a boring afternoon.

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music, nostalgia, obits

The great Tina Turner has joined the heavenly choir…

Or… I’d like to think that Tina is somewhere incredible now, anyway. She certainly lived in a beautiful, idyllic, paradise like part of Switzerland off of Lake Zurich. A couple of years ago, Bill and I visited Kusnacht, Switzerland, where Tina’s home was located, but we were there because Bill wanted to visit Carl Jung’s home and museum, which is also in Kusnacht.

Last night, just after dinner, Bill blurted out the headline that Tina Turner had died. I wasn’t surprised by the news. She was 83 years old, and had suffered a host of serious health problems at the end of her life. She was also predeceased by two of her sons, Craig and Ronnie. Ronnie passed away just six months ago, which I’m sure was hard for Tina to bear. But, of course, I am only speculating, and I did read that Tina was somewhat estranged from her sons in later years. In any case, as sad as it is for the public to lose a legendary superstar like Tina Turner, I also suspect that the end was probably a relief for her. In spite of her incredible career and worldwide fame, Tina did not have an easy life.

My heart goes out to Tina’s two surviving sons, Ike Jr. and Michael, and her husband, Erwin Bach, who famously donated a kidney to Tina when she went into kidney failure. They had a very long love affair with each other, having started their relationship in the 1980s and married in 2013. That was also the year that Tina gave up her U.S. passport and became a Swiss citizen. I don’t know what, exactly, drew Tina to Switzerland, but if I were to guess, I’d say it’s probably because it’s a very serene place with lots of natural beauty and security. It’s a far cry from Tina’s beginnings in Nutbush, Tennessee, where Tina was born on November 26, 1939 as Anna Mae Bullock.

Tina Turner’s family of origin was very poor, and she was the youngest of three daughters. Her father was an overseer of sharecroppers, and she grew up helping her family pick cotton. When Tina was eleven years old, her mother, Zelma, ran off without any warning, supposedly to escape an abusive relationship with Tina’s father, Floyd Bullock. According to a passage on Tina’s Wikipedia page:

She stated in her autobiography I, Tina that her parents had not loved her and she wasn’t wanted.[33] Zelma had planned to leave Floyd but stayed once she became pregnant.[34] “She was a very young woman who didn’t want another kid,” Turner recalled.[34]

I have basic knowledge of how that feels, although I do think my parents love(d) me, in their own way. Tina was able to turn that fundamental rejection into incredible success. Imagine, being a tiny child who knows her parents didn’t want her… and then growing up to be such a renowned phenom whose death the world mourns. It just goes to show you that there is endless potential in most people. Tina went through many hardships, but she was also blessed with extraordinary talent, drive, creativity, and quite a lot of luck.

Ike and Tina, and their version of “Proud Mary”…

Still, it amazes me when I think of Tina’s humble beginnings as Anna Mae Bullock in Nutbush, Tennessee, picking cotton with her family, enduring years of separation from her parents, living with her very religious grandparents, and finding the gift of song in their Baptist church. Then, years later, she met Ike Turner, who propelled her to fame, but used and abused her until she found the courage to leave him. In the years between leaving Ike and breaking out as a rock star, Tina did have to pay some dues in Las Vegas hotels… and perhaps most embarrassingly, on an episode of The Brady Bunch Hour. Still, she always gave it her all!

Tina in 1981, just before her career took off again… that time, as a completely different solo act.
Yikes!
She really paid her dues, didn’t she?

I will never forget the first time I heard Tina’s remake of the Al Green classic, “Let’s Stay Together. I was maybe 11 years old, and had never heard Tina’s hits with Ike Turner. I don’t think I even knew their version of “Proud Mary”, nor was I even exposed to Al Green’s song. To be honest, my first reaction to Tina’s “Let’s Stay Together” wasn’t very favorable. At that time of my life, I didn’t have an appreciation for unique voices. I didn’t like listening to Bob Dylan, either– even though he is an incredible artist and songwriter. I remember thinking Tina had a terrible singing voice!

It took awhile for me to appreciate this song. What can I say? I was about 11 years old… I also liked eating cold hot dogs when I was that age.

But then, the next year, the title song on Private Dancer came out on the radio… Suddenly, I understood what the fuss was all about. I remember that album so well, as I was right in the middle of puberty when it was a hit. I’d see her videos, enchanted by her big, bushy, wild hair (wig), her mini skirts, leather bustiers, high heels and bright red lips. I was shocked to find out she was less than two years younger than my mother! I liked her other songs just as much or even more, and then I became a real fan. Maybe I wasn’t as big of a fan of hers as others were. I never got to see her in concert. But her unusual sound made me want to know more about her.

This song was written by Mark Knopfler, who is one of my favorite musicians… Dire Straits accompanied her, although the recently departed Jeff Beck provided the guitar solo. Mark Knopfler reportedly wasn’t too pleased with Beck’s performance, calling it “the world’s second ugliest guitar solo”.
Tina lent her talents to a very worthy cause…

In 1993, when I was in college, my friend Chris worked at a video store. He got a screener of the movie What’s Love Got to Do With It starring Angela Bassett and Laurence Fishburne. I loved that movie! I’ve seen it a bunch of times over the past thirty years. I never get tired of it, or the wonderful soundtrack with old songs from the Ike and Tina era. What I really love about that movie is that it introduced me to Tina’s past through Angela Bassett’s masterful acting. As I mentioned up post, I wasn’t familiar with Ike and Tina, and it wasn’t until I saw that movie that I started to seek out those old performances that were so different from Tina’s 80s image. I also love Angela Bassett’s work. She is a fantastic actor, and is perfect in her role as Tina Turner.

Angela’s version of Tina.

Tina’s story, as depicted in What’s Love Got To Do With It, was made entertaining, even though she truly went through Hell to get to where she ended up. The truth is, Tina escaped her hellish marriage to Ike Turner and soared into a career of her own that way eclipsed what she ever had with Ike. She served as a role model and icon to so many people of my generation. I heard her collaborate with other musicians, changing classic songs into her own creations.

Holy crap, can Angela Bassett act! And she really channels Tina perfectly in this film.
A very different version of Tina… but just as iconic and awesome.

It wasn’t until the early aughts that I read Tina’s book, I, Tina, ghostwritten with Kurt Loder, which provided a much rawer look at her life story. It’s been many years since I read I, Tina, but I do remember that the book was very candid. I distinctly remember reading about how and where Tina lost her virginity. Tina was just as forthcoming and unbridled in her book as she was in her stage performances. I think I still own a copy of that book– it’s in storage. I shouldn’t be too surprised that the day after Tina’s death, the prices for the first edition of her book are way up on Amazon! Years ago, I wrote a review of that book. I’m not sure if I still have it available. I’ll look and see, and if I find it, I’ll repost it.

Maybe Karen, Olivia, and Tina are reunited in the great beyond…

Not too long ago, I saw a 2021 documentary about Tina Turner’s more recent life. It was called Tina, and it filmed in her home in Switzerland. She spoke candidly about her life, and that was when I heard about her serious health concerns. But even with those health problems, she still looked amazing and spoke with such lucidity and wisdom. I remember being amazed by her all over again. She was obviously destined to be an icon… but even icons have an end. Fortunately, she left behind an astonishing treasure trove of works that will continue to inspire and amaze people for many years to come.

I highly recommend watching this documentary if you’re interested in Tina Turner’s life story.

I know a lot of people are expressing sadness that Tina Turner has died. I think it would be disingenuous for me to be sad about Tina’s death, because she lived a long, full life, and death is something that happens to us all. Instead of sadness about her death, I feel grateful that she lived, and we all got to know aspects of her by watching her perform and hearing her sing. I am consoled that she no longer has to suffer from ill health, or even just the ravages of getting older– the aches and pains that make it harder to enjoy living. Even if there is no Heaven after death, the condition of no longer suffering is a kind of heavenly peace.

Any sorrow I feel is not about Tina’s death, but for those who knew and loved her, and will have to go on without her in their lives. I know she will be missed by so many people– not just her legions of fans, but the people in her life who had the pleasure of knowing her personally. To those people, I offer my most sincere condolences… and to Tina herself, I offer gratitude for the many memories I have of the 1980s version of Tina Turner and the way she served as a positive role model to so many young girls like I was, back in those days. I really wish I could have seen her perform live.

Tina really was a queen for us all…

“I Might Have Been Queen”… there’s no “might” about it.

I’m sharing the link to I, Tina, for those who might not have known it exists. If you purchase through my site, I get a small commission from Amazon. But I don’t expect anyone to pay so much for this book. I recommend looking in your local library for it. ETA: I see a new edition is out and offered at a relatively reasonable price. If you want to know her unvarnished story, I recommend picking it up.

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controversies, Germany, safety, silliness, social welfare

Men sitting down to pee and other acts of rebellion…

The featured photo was hanging in our first German landlord’s guest toilet when we moved in. I didn’t understand it then. I do now.

Happy hump day, y’all. It’s already gotten off to an interesting start for me. First off, I was having an erotic dream when I woke up. It was a bit kinky, but the people involved were a married couple (not Bill and me) and very friendly with each other. I probably ought to lay off the Lifetime movies for awhile…

Arran is bright and funny this morning. He will see the vet tonight and probably get a blood test and chemo. Bill told me last night that he has to go on another week long business trip soon, which is worrying for both of us. Somehow, I think Arran will go when the time is just right, but while my instincts are usually right, they aren’t always. I look forward to the day when Bill doesn’t have to do these business trips so often anymore. Or, at least he does them when our dogs are healthy.

But, enough about that. You probably clicked on this post because of the title. I’ll agree; it’s a weird one, even by my standards.

Last night, I was reading the Irish Times again, and happened upon an article written Brianna Parkins, titled “Now it’s okay for men to pee sitting down, here are a few other changes they could make“. I wish I could gift the article for non subscribers, but the Irish aren’t down with that. You’ll just have to rely on my comments here in this blog post, unless you are a subscriber like I am.

I was interested in Ms. Parkins’ article, because here in Germany, men routinely sit down to pee. There are even signs in some public restrooms addressing this phenomenon. When we moved into our very first German house, there was a postcard in the bathroom that showed a man lying on the floor by the toilet. It read, “Nicht im stehen.” I asked our landlord what it meant, and he said “Not while standing.”

In 2007, I didn’t know that German men are trained by the women in their lives to sit when they urinate. And I know some might call me sexist for putting it that way, but seriously, when I finally encountered an explanation about this particular cultural phenomenon, that was kind of how it was put to me. This was the comment posted on Toytown Germany in June 2008, which was when we were living in that first German house.

Stehpinkeln has been a big topic on my mind of late. Through watching day time TV I have come to realise that a vast majority of people (mainly German women) are disgusted by men who pee in standing.

I can understand that it can make a mess sometimes (I am not a man, thusly, I have no personal experience) but is it such a terrible thing? Am I the only one who seems to think that it’s OK for men to stand and pee into a toilet?!

This was such a mind blower for me in 2008. Apparently, it was for other people in that forum, because the thread went on for 445 posts and 23 pages. The last post was dated January 2015. I’ve seen a couple of other posts about it on that forum. I also read and reviewed a book about it a few years ago. Seriously, there is a book titled German Men Sit Down To Pee And Other Insights Into German Culture. I gave it a favorable review.

So anyway, last night, I was reading Brianna Parkins’ article about men sitting to pee. She writes that sitting to pee is also common in Japan, another country where a lot of American men work for the US military. Actually, given how fancy Japanese toilets can be, I can see why men don’t mind sitting down to do their business. They even have a fancy video for potty training kids.

I need a toilet that will sing to me when I do my business… especially in the morning.
FANCY!

Parkins writes:

But the German word for a man who sits to pee, Sitzpinkler, is used negatively, to imply unmasculine behaviour, “something like ‘wuss’ in English”, according to the Guardian. So that newpaper’s well-reasoned arguments for having a seat while taking a slash will have made men question their core beliefs: they had to ask themselves if a standing wee is just a byproduct of toxic masculinity.

It caused women to ask ourselves how men – them lot who can’t aim their pee in the toilet without it getting on the ground – ended up in charge for so long. The mind boggles.

Seeing the success of men adopting practices formerly considered “women’s business”, here are some other ways men could benefit by becoming more like women.

It probably won’t surprise some readers that Bill sometimes sits when he pees. He says he mainly does it that way at night, since it’s easier to sit down than turn on the light and blind himself. We do have a new Toilight, which is a stocking stuffer I bought at Christmas time. It senses motion and turns on a night light, which makes going to the bathroom safer and easier in the dark. But it doesn’t always work the way it’s supposed to. Bill’s habit of sitting down when he pees at night predates the Toilight, too. He’s always been considerate that way.

I had a look at the comment section, figuring the Irish would be “taking the piss”, so to speak, about this article. I wasn’t disappointed. Quite a lot of Irish men were offended by Ms. Parkins’ article, which they probably didn’t even read, since it’s behind a paywall. I saw a number of comments indicating that men who sit down to pee are “emasculated” somehow. It seems to me that peeing is mostly private business, unless you’re into golden showers or something.

It’s a pity those men didn’t read Ms. Parkins’ article, which I found delightfully snarky and funny. And you know, she’s right. Not only does sitting while peeing make less of a mess, but sometimes listening to people who have been educated about things like, say, medicine, is a good idea. Apparently, a lot of men in Ireland are averse to doing that. So is being less homophobic and enjoying some friendly skin on skin contact with other men, other than when they play contact sports.

At the very end of the article, Ms. Parkins’ real agenda comes out, and it’s a good one. She writes:

But that one’s not going to change the world. The one that would really count, just off the top of my head, would be getting men to inflict less violence, both sexual and physical, on women.

In Ireland, Women’s Aid has registered 256 violent deaths of women since 1996. Of the 200 cases that have been resolved, 87 per cent of the victims were killed by a man they knew. In Australia, where I grew up, five women have died from violence allegedly committed by a man in the first month of the year, according to Counting Dead Women Australia. In 2022, 56 women there suffered the same fate.

I would like to tell Ms. Parkins that men can be victims of domestic violence, too. Unfortunately, I know this because my husband experienced it with his ex wife. Like a lot of abuse survivors, he didn’t realize that was what he was experiencing at the time. It wasn’t until he told me some stories that I brought up the possibility. Many years later, after not having spoken to his daughter for a long time, she actually recognized it and sent him a news article about men in domestic violence situations. So, I wasn’t the only one who easily saw the truth.

It’s too bad some of the Irish men complaining about the article didn’t read it and get the actual main idea, which is that men could learn a lot from women, not just about urination, but also about not being so violent. But I would hasten to add that some women need a few lessons about not being violent, too.

Here are a few comments… obviously, most of the people didn’t read the article. I’ll admit, my own comments were about German men sitting to pee, too. I managed to “piss” off an Irishman, who claimed that he had lived here for over 20 years and that it’s not true that German men sit to pee. I guess he watched them. I mean, yes, there are urinals here. I’ve heard that some Germans even put them in their homes so they can stand when they pee. But I’ve seen a lot of signs requesting that men sit down for the performance.

Bill encountered this sign on his last business trip. I’ve more often seen these in southern Germany than up here in Hesse.

Moving on…

A hometown friend of mine shared the following post on Facebook. I was not surprised at all.

My friend wrote that he knew some people who needed this product.

I decided to click on the original post, to see the comment section. I had a feeling it would be quite an epic shitshow of ignorance and stubbornness, with a dip into hatred toward liberal politics, to boot. I wasn’t disappointed. Lots of people were cheering about this invention, which also is handy for opening beer bottles.

Here are a few comments…

These guys can relax, though, because it seems that this company is a bit scammy. On other posts on that page, as of 2020, many people have complained that they ordered this product and never received it. I guess the people who make it are too busy opening beer bottles to fulfill their orders. Or maybe they’re just hanging out with their labradoodles…

Here’s another area where Germans are probably smarter. It’s illegal in Germany to drive a car with your pet unrestrained, sitting in the front seat of the car. For one thing, an air bag would probably kill Fido if it goes off. For another, Fido might cause you to be distracted and get into a wreck. Pets in Germany have to either ride in a crate in the back, or wear a “seatbelt” harness in the backseat that clips to the seatbelt buckle.

And while I’ve driven with objects sitting on the front seat plenty of times, that’s also not the safest practice. In the event of an accident, that object– just like Fido or a human body– will likely become a flying object that could hit you or any other passengers or bystanders in the head when it becomes airborne. But, as a lot of us know, a lot of Americans aren’t long on common sense or practical thinking. That’s how so many of them thought Donald Trump would be a good president. The same people are ordering this product and getting scammed.

Maybe they’ve improved their business practices since 2020? I don’t know.

Ah well… if I weren’t married to a man who didn’t turn into Pat Boone any time I tried to skip the seatbelt, I probably would agree with some of the conservative knuckleheads on the Tikit page. But Bill is a total safety geek, so I guess that means I am, too. Just like I can’t sleep after about 5:30am anymore, thanks to my morning rooster…

Well, I think I’ll end this post and go see if my laundry is dry yet. Maybe today, I’ll manage to record some music. Since I retooled my workspace, I’m having some technical difficulties.

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book reviews

My review of Unbreakable by Jelena Dokic, with Jessica Halloran…

January seems to be my month for reading true stories. Early this morning, because I couldn’t sleep, I finished reading 2017’s Unbreakable, the story of tennis phenom Jelena Dokic, ghostwritten by Jessica Halloran. I bought this book a week ago and finished it in less than 48 hours. Part of the reason I finished so quickly is because I’m alone this week, but I also found it a very compelling and interesting book. I don’t follow tennis at all, and had never even heard of Jelena Dokic before I read Unbreakable. But her story interested and frustrated me on many levels. I think anyone who has ever had to deal with a controlling, narcissistic, alcoholic person will relate to it.

Who is Jelena Dokic?

Born April 12, 1983 in Croatia, which was then part of the former Yugoslavia, Jelena Dokic once played tennis with the likes of Martina Hingis, Monica Seles, Jennifer Capriati, and both Venus and Serena Williams. But her earliest days in Osijek, Croatia, didn’t lend a hint to the fame and fortune she would eventually attain.

Jelena Dokic’s mother is from Croatia; her father was born in Croatia, but was of Serbian descent. She was an only child until 1991, when her mother gave birth to her beloved brother, Savo. From the very beginning, Jelena adored her brother and saw herself as his protector. His birth was at the time when the Iron Curtain was falling apart, and that included Jelena’s homeland, Yugoslavia, which was really just a conglomeration of different states with different languages and cultures cobbled together.

One day, when Jelena was still very young, she and her father, Damir Dokic, were in a rowboat fishing, when they saw a body floating past. As Yugoslavia was breaking up, people from the different countries were fighting among themselves. Murders were increasingly common as the area became a war zone. The obstetrician who delivered both Jelena and her brother was murdered, prompting the family to temporarily move to Serbia. There, Jelena had to learn the Serbian language as the civil unrest and ethnic and religion based violence continued.

During those early years, Jelena’s father got the idea to see if his daughter could play tennis. Boy, could she… Jelena was a natural talent. From the age of six, she showed everyone that she was born for the game. Reluctant coaches in Serbia didn’t think she could hang with the bigger girls, but she soon proved herself a formidable player. Before she’d hit puberty, Jelena had launched what would turn into a lucrative career.

Enter “Daddy Dearest”…

Besides dealing with the violence of war and the upheaval of moving from Croatia to Serbia, Jelena’s family was poor. For some time, Jelena, her mother, and brother lived in a garden shack owned by relatives. It was rat infested and freezing cold. Meanwhile, her father and other relatives were in Croatia. Jelena’s dad, Damir, came back when it became clear that his daughter had the potential to go far in the tennis world.

The family eventually immigrated to Australia, where Jelena rose in the ranks to become a great tennis player. But she would inspire jealousy among other Aussie tennis players, who weren’t a match for her. Her entire life revolved around winning tennis matches and making money for her abusive father. Jelena’s mother, beaten down by years of abuse, aided and abetted Damir’s tyrannical behavior.

Damir Dokic had a tragically effective way of “motivating” Jelena to succeed. He drove her to train constantly, berated her, called her vile, filthy names, and when she didn’t win on the tennis court, beat her with his leather belt. Damir was also a severe alcoholic with a weakness for white wine and whiskey. He would show up to Jelena’s games rip roaring drunk, screaming at her from the sidelines. Jelena was treated like a commodity. She wasn’t allowed to have friends, and her abusive father would threaten and humiliate her constantly, even when she did well.

Still, in spite of being called names like “whore” and “cow”, and even though her father would regularly terrorize Jelena, and tell her she was a disgrace, the young tennis phenom consistently rose to the occasion. At the pinnacle of her tennis career, Jelena Dokic was ranked number four in the world. For awhile, she was unstoppable, although her father never praised Jelena for her achievements.

But sadly, before Jelena was even twenty-one years old, it all began to unravel. She went through many coaches, endured a narcissistic boyfriend, and through it all, had to face her terrifying father, who leveraged Jelena’s access to her mother and brother to get what he wanted… which was basically ALL of her money and complete control over her career.

A familiar story, yet still shocking…

As I read Jelena Dokic’s story, I was reminded of several other stories of extremely talented and successful people. A couple of years ago, I wrote a review of a book written by Verona van de Leur, a former elite gymnast from The Netherlands who eventually went to prison and then became a porn star. Like Jelena Dokic, Verona was expected to perform and achieve in her sport, mainly because her parents were leeching money from her.

I don’t believe Verona van de Leur ever made as much money as Jelena Dokic did, as Jelena’s father eventually built a mansion with Jelena’s earnings, complete with a wine cellar and stables. He made her agree to keep sending him payments of $200,000, as well as most of her other earnings. Jelena’s father also forced her to sign over her rights to a house paid for with money she won. Naturally, she was also expected to pay the taxes on her winnings, which she soon couldn’t do as she stopped winning. Not winning meant making much less money playing tennis.

I was also reminded of Dominique Moceanu, an American former elite gymnast of Romanian descent, whose father abused her in order to motivate her to achieve. I remember how adorable Dominique was in the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta. I didn’t know, at that time, the price she was paying to be at the top of her game in gymnastics. I read and reviewed Dominique’s book, too.

Finally, Jelena’s crazy abuse story reminded a bit of Tina Turner, and her story of being mentored by her ex husband, the late Ike Turner. Although Tina is known for being a great singer, she shared the same tragic fate as Jelena, Verona, and Dominique did. All of these incredibly gifted and talented women basically served as “golden geese” for abusive men who exploited and terrorized them to get money and power from them.

Frustrating…

As compelling as Unbreakable is, I have to admit, I found it a frustrating read. Jelena Dokic was caught in a terrible abuse cycle. Over and over again, her father would abuse her in almost every way. He would make her run for miles after exhausting tennis matches or in extreme heat. He would verbally abuse her and terrorize her. Or he would beat her up, kick her with his pointy toed dress shoes, or whip her with his belt. When she became an adult, she would say “enough” and try to leave. But he’d always manage to talk her into coming back for more abuse.

Ditto to other abusers in Jelena’s life. She had a tennis coach who took advantage of her. He wasn’t very experienced in the game, but he was manipulative. More than once, Jelena tried to get rid of him, only to take him back later. She had an abusive, controlling boyfriend of the same ilk who was hard to shake.

On a conscious level, I understand that Jelena was trapped in a cycle of abuse. She was coping the only way she knew how. She didn’t have much help from other people, even though some had seen evidence of her father’s telltale abuse. Jelena was a valuable commodity to a lot of men, and I guess it was easier to allow the blatant terrorism to continue, rather than do something about it. I have had experience with an abusive alcoholic father myself, so I do have an inkling of what Jelena was facing. My dad wasn’t as bad as Jelena’s dad is, either. But still, it was frustrating to read about this very talented and successful woman being horrifically abused, and nothing being done about it. It’s pretty shameful, actually. Fortunately, the story ends well.

Jelena Dokic makes a comeback.

Overall

I think Jessica Halloran did a fine job writing this book. It’s in the historical present tense, which is kind of different. I never got the sense that I wasn’t reading this book from the source, though, which is a good thing. There are some photos included, too.

Like I mentioned up post, I don’t really follow tennis at all. I’m not into sports. But I could relate to and empathize with Jelena Dokic’s story in Unbreakable. It sounds like she’s gotten her life back on track, as she now works as a tennis coach and motivational speaker in Australia. Jelena’s story is horrific at times, but ultimately, she’s triumphed.

Yes, it took a long time for Jelena Dokic to get to where she is… and that may frustrate some readers, who will see her making the same mistakes repeatedly. I notice some comments on Amazon are about how Jelena didn’t ask for help and/or denied the abuse, and the stories of abuse became “tedious” and “repetitive”.

I think it’s helpful to remember that people who are caught up in abuse don’t have the benefit of clarity. They have been conditioned to accept bad treatment from their abusers, who isolate them and swear them to secrecy by using shame, violence, and fear for other loved ones. In Jelena’s case, it was her beloved brother who served as a bargaining chip. If she didn’t cooperate with her father, she would lose contact with Savo. When abuse victims are in that kind of a bind, it can be especially difficult to break free from tyranny. Yes, it’s frustrating to watch obvious abuse when it happens, but getting away from abuse and “stepping out of the F.O.G.” is legitimately hard.

In any case, I think Unbreakable is worth reading. I’d give it four stars out of five.

As an Amazon Associate, I get a small commission from Amazon on sales made through my site.

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