Mona Lisa Smile

A very touching film. Just finished watching it. It brought tears to my eyes. Most guys would call it a "chick-flick" and dismiss it and be done with it and be rid of it. But I think to women, it has a great significance. True, the setting is in the 50's, at conservative East Coast women's college, Wellesley, but there are many things that hold true today as it did back then. I was also impressed that I knew a lot of the art works taught in the art class featured in the film, but that's besides the point.

The world is getting better. I know it. Because when I was told that girls should be quiet and sit still, although not in so many words, I didn't challenge it. A 6-year-old cannot challenge something like that. You are a sponge at that age -- whatever you see or hear, you absorb instantly, and it sticks like an old kimchi stain on a crisp white Banana Republic button-down shirt. No matter how fancy and proper, it speaks volumes -- it reminds you so much, without fading. So when my grandfather sent me away with a few thousand wons to be noisy outdoors where he couldn't hear me, rather than indoors, I never questioned why I couldn't be loud indoors along with the boys. Why can't I also run down the stairs and not be chided? Why was I expected such impeccability? I agree with Freud when his theories all pointed childhood as the culprit. Old scars last long beyond the time of their infliction.

For me to become the person I am, I had to do a lot of un-doing. While other scar-less happy children were building and refining, I had to demolish what I was and clear the ground to start anew. But before all that, I started to build on a weak foundation, your regular house on sand. I had to have a catharsis. Believe me, as soon as I earn enough, I'll need the therapy. It's a painful process.

To be put in a tiny box and declare that your sole world, is painful enough. To find yourself believing in that whatever that's outside the box doesn't exist, is double the pain. It is hard to step outside that box. Who makes that box? Society? Parents? History? It isn't quite clear in my case. Boy, was I naive. I grew up with the idea that I'd graduate from high school, go to a well-known public university, have an extravagant only-in-movies romance, be married, and be the superwoman who had it all: the kids, the career, the husband, the nice house, the huge backyard with a big dog. I wouldn't go to something like graduate school -- I'd have to have children! I always thought that I'd go to med school, but somehow, when I daydreamed and mapped out my idea life, time for med school never fit. So it remained always a hopeful, never with its time-slot in my life.

Even until two or three years ago, that was it. Getting married and having a beautiful family was one of life's great milestones. It was a measuring point of where you stood in life. Whether you'd be happy, or miserable. When I dated, I always tried to see if the guy was the marrying type. Would he be a good father? Would he be a good husband? Could I tolerate his family, aka future in-laws? Could he support a family? One of the guys I dated did fit much of that criteria. He would have been a wonderful father, probably a good husband, and his sister (the only family member I had the dis-pleasure of meeting) was at best tolerable. But he wasn't the "go out and party" type. He loved children, good around the house. He's married now with kids, and I'm sure he's as great as I thought he'd be. But just because he were those things didn't mean he contributed to my well-being and my happiness.

Recently, I've realized. I don't need to be married. I don't need kids. I don't need or want those things, they don't make me happy. I wanted to get one thing off my chest:

I don't like children. In fact, I hate kids..
I know y'all are gasping. I know many of my friends would, because they are the "marrying type." They would tell me not to say that so definitely, because they know, once I have a baby, I would love kids, especially my own. They'd tell me, you never know these things beforehand. Hey, just because I don't like children doesn't mean I am selling my soul to Satan. Of course, saying that GOD DOESN'T EXIST would upset quite a few as well. I just save that for shock value -- I mean, I'm not an out-spoken, in-your-face atheist, but I say that out loud just to push some people over the edge. Then I tell them, "I SMOKE MARIJUANA." Although I don't, it's always fun to see their face cringe. I would say that I do something a lot worse, like heroin or special K, but they probably don't know what that is, being the conservative assholes that they are. Oooooh, I am digressing big time. I'll save this topic for a rainy day.

Anyways. People do have a hard time believing that a woman could be happy without a man. Or vice versa, I guess. But I love my privacy. I love coming into my room, not having to tell someone where I've been. I want to go out and drink until 2 AM and collapse on the bed without someone getting agitated. I don't want to have to cook for someone, or clean up after someone. I don't someone to clean up after me because they can't stand living in a mess. I like typing alone, without someone looking over my shoulder. I like holding the remote control when I watch TV. If I could have a husband, but he'd live in a different place, that might be nice, but then he wouldn't be a husband.

I am such a me, me, me, ME person. Why did it take over two decades to figure that out? Maybe because there are some old geezers who tell me that I should lose weight so I can get married, as though having love handles decrease your options for marriage. Whatever the reason, I am just glad that I am outside that box.

Life is so beautiful without restraints -- is there anything holding you back? If so, bust out of those shackles today, and declare yourself a free man (or woman). You'll feel fabulous instantly.