*dear conservative folks/religious people/those who are family and feel this is TMI-this is between R and X rated. Written as a lonely, single medical student dedicated to my future husband. You’ve been warned*
**to those same people-I love y’all, but I’ve been married to him for 13 years now, let’s calm down. That shouldn’t even have to be true to avoid getting judged for being…human. We are too uptight about this ish. There’s almost seven billion people and an AIDS endemic worldwide. We are hypocrites. It’s a problem, and perpetuates rape culture too 👀**
***I asked him years later, he had no clue we had this intense ’moment’. Men***
****feel free to laugh at what a rookie at life I was BUT you have no idea how much courage it took to share this, so be kind please****
Biology is a powerful thing.
Though I studied biology in college, and am now delving deeper and deeper into this material (pun intended?), it never actually occurred to me to apply it to everyday life. But biology rules us even-especially even!-when we don’t want it to.
Take, for example, the human sex drive. What happens when you put 300 sexually repressed medical students in a lecture hall, and the professor begins talking about the biological basis of sexual behavior? On VALENTINE’S Day, of all days?
Pure chaos.
It started out innocently enough. He began talking about criteria for sexual identification, the basis of gonadal development in the fetus, etc. All relatively small potatoes for us since we had completed Embryology the year before. Hormones start to become discussed-dihydrotesterone, estrogen, progesterone, etc. etc. All of a sudden, I become only too aware of my own.
Take the female menstrual cycle. Exactly what hormones where pumping through my blood as the professor spoke? Well, I know what hormones-estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone-but how much was present? What part of the cycle was I on? Did that peak in estrogen-wow, is that why I wrote an irrational letter to my mom, and a good friend from home? Is it the reason I crave weird things only at certain times of the month? (Today, I ate bananas with peanut butter and jelly, and then ate lunchmeat with hummus!!!) Before I started this stage in my career, I always attributed the above mentioned events to stress. It takes me years into my studies to realize-duh!-that there is a hormonal basis to my behavior. Though I knew the facts alone (this hormone does this,that hormone does that, whatnot), I didn’t actually make the association. I knew, but I didn’t know, you know?
Then talk shifts towards the magical topic-sex.
The talk begins to turn towards the Masters and Johnson model of sexual response-excitement, plateau, orgasm, and resolution. Stuff I heard in my biology and psychology classes in undergrad. So I tune out. And wonder about Masters and Johnson-two people who dedicated their lives watching other people have sex. What drove them? How did they keep their cool watching all these people doing it over and over again over the years?
Then, my thoughts shifted towards me. V-day is TODAY and I’m single? I’m always single, geez. I turn around to see how the class is reacting as a whole and saw one guy fidgeting in his chair………….
I turn back around, shift in my chair, and begin tapping my feet. Gently. The casual observer would attribute my behavior to anxiety.
The professor start talking about each of the stages, and what happens physiologically and psychologically to men and women in each stage. About disorders in each of these stages,how to treat them, etc. etc.
I shift in my chair again, and this time, notice a few more people doing so as well. Apparently, I am not alone in my thoughts.
The talk finally peaks-literally!-to the orgasm phase in men and women. More fidgeting, more awkward laughs from the island feverish, sexually repressed medical students. I learn that in men, there is a dramatic change in pulse, respiration, and blood pressure. I learn that contractions of the anal sphincter occur, and that there is a emission and propulsion phase. in which-you guessed it!-there is build up of fluids in the prostate, and in the propulsion phase, the ejaculation of semen occurs. For women, the basin of the uterus attains its greatest size, muscular contractions occur, along with uterine and vaginal contractions. Dramatic changes in pulse, respiration, and blood pressure, as well as contractions of anal sphincter, occur as well.
Well, that’s what I would have learned, had my mind not been elsewhere.
Instead, I looked back at the mysterious gentleman behind me. Again.
He was wearing glasses. Not the nerdy kind, the cool kind, the GQ kind. One day stubble,beautiful brown eyes slightly blurry from lack of sleep. Dark black hair. Smooth Indian skin made golden-brown from the harsh heat of the Caribbean sun. He was classically, conventionally handsome-the kind you’d bring home to mom (lets’ pretend that’s where my mind was at the moment). Tall, well built, but until that day, I didn’t really notice him. Well, I’d talked to him a few times, but that was it. He was supposedly friends with so-and-so, who had hooked up with so-and-so and such-and-such party. I think we had a few post exam drunken gab sessions, but not LIKE THAT…One of those things. But all I noticed in that moment was that he was fidgeting again…….hmmmm.
Our eyes met.
He didn’t smile, neither did I. I had only spoken to him a few times, and him, likewise. But in that second we had passionate, across the room eye-sex. All of a sudden, the room felt much too hot, and much too small. The world disappeared. My cheeks became flushed. A flush that remained with me for the rest of the day, according to my friends (I blamed it on the heat, of course). I’m surprised that all the seats, all the rows that separated us didn’t spontaneously burst into flames.
That moment was everything you read about in Cosmo and Maxim, and then some. That moment was like something out a trashy romance novel, a novel so over the top and scandalous that most women won’t admit to having read it(including myself). The kind of passion most middle age women could only dream about, the kind that their Viagra popping husbands can no longer fulfill. The kind that every woman wants, really, secretly, regardless of her age, level of education, and whether she’s a feminista or not.
It was hot. It was fabulous. It was also totally in our heads. Or maybe just my head. I don’t know.
Wow. Welcome to Temptation Island, Grenada. Stay posted, and I’ll tell you who’s sleeping with whom next week (across the room, nonetheless).
So this is what happens in the recesses of my dirty little mind when I’m trying to get an education. Oh God. Oh no.
I’m a good Indian girl. I’m here to study. At least that what it appears like externally. In my mind, I’m as bad as a nymphomaniac on death row.
AND SO IS EVERYONE ELSE HERE, that’s what really scares me.
But as of now, I’m just trying to memorize everything that I had just told you, and then some. Hopefully, I will treat anyone who comes in with desire, arousal, plateau, and orgasmic disorders.
Hopefully I can control these emotions, control myself and fulfill my purpose in life. Which I can do with the help of God, and with my own hard work.
And by keeping my eyes of the gentleman in the back row.
to the girl who can sit in schools, meetings and ‘behave’ fast
be ready with a quick smile
heels or keds/either one if she wants
stay still still like her beating heart
always ready for that imperceptible change in the air
The fight
the hardest thing about being us
is knowing when to turn it off
find your shape
it’ll never be perfect to everyone
if you got to call our racists at family gatherings
allow yourself to be fun with friends
If your friends offend,
lean inwards
towards family who may not seem like you, but truly see you and accept you as you are
If you don’t have that, call me
I love you already
dearest rebelrouser
you are my family
the blood in veins
you are my veins
together we will fight another day
If thanksgivings are awkward, give yourself a by on christmas
or by shopping with friends
or online
or by the pool
dear rebelrouser
talk less
listen more
read the entire thing before you respond-I know it’s painful
turn off facebook notifications
blocking shit stains is worth it if that’s what you need to fight another day
Take a break
Designated social media times ONLY
there’s just too much beauty out there that we’ve convinced ourselves is boring
refrain from that dopaminergic limbic system bubble rush
it’s the simple things, baby
the golden rays of the sun
how light refracts in water
baby giggles
falling in love with a good book or tv show
a play
the wind on your face
dear rebelrouser
prepare for the not all men’s/white people/desis talking points
Perfect that response
get emancipated-legally and spiritually from the shackles of your holy bonds
dear rebelrouser
if you got a crush on a man, ask how he feels about your own rights
you’ll either get over him damn fast
or fall madly in love
guess which is more common-and that’s good
WE are the crushes to have on ourselves.
Quit wasting time trying to obtain them and try to obtain your own true potential
practice until your toes bleed
read until you are the smartest most educated best self you can be
dance
sing
write a play
discover your own body
your own magic
your own truth
dear rebelrouser-those who accuse you of being dramatic are projecting
dear rebelrouser
dress how you want, wear what you want how you want
Just NEVER judge another queen
NEVER call names if you can help it
you don’t have to like or love anyone, but try not to destroy their own divine feminine
blowing out their candle doesn’t make yours brighter
igniting destruction in light your own anger holds us ALL back
Where were we when our rights were taken away/never given by men?
At each other’s throats more often enough
Nah, rebelrouser
sometimes fiery hearts clash
keep your distance to avoid that catastrophe
but don’t dim their sun
practice your gifts
but perfect your heart more
dear rebelrouser
grow a backbone
not a wishbone
dear rebelrouser
read. read a lot. It doesn’t have to be what they assign you in class. What interests you? Consumes you? What loves you back? It’s ok not to know. Keep searching. Have faith. Love yourself through all your awful and bad, silly and sad.
get an education. You don’t have to use it.
But you need that foundation in a world determined to misunderstanding you and taking you less seriously.
dear rebelrouser
learn krav maga
maybe conceal carry if you are properly trained, but don’t be an idiot
dear rebelrouser
spread your values to your children first, get mad on the internet second
THEY are the change you wish to see, not Chad from Chattanooga
Dear rebelrouser
find your tribe
You may look your whole life
but find one kindred warrior amongst the glass among war torn battle fields will carry the earth to its ends
dear rebelrouser
be optimistic
happy
you are the change
one at a time
good trouble is any trouble sweet girl
but don’t be too sweet and get run the fuck over
Nah, they like that-a little too much
Dear rebelrouser
when seeking a path,
seek those who don’t look like you
in general, don’t go for those with no other substance
they’re too shackled
complacent
they think following the rules will protect them from the patriarchy
it almost never does
Dearest rebelrouser,
embrace your pain,
your trauma
your flaws
your mistakes
but never let that become the one characteristic that defines you
consumes you
overshadows all else that is good and true and beautiful about you
don’t lash out at others in projection
that’s your own shit
not theirs
own it
love it
be it
but don’t let the virus of revenge, hatred and anger consume you
Racism doesn’t exist, they sneer, while simultaneously making fun of your beautiful name only meant to honor a goddess and long dead great village chiefs that came before you , your body hair, skin color, way grandma dresses. 20 years later, they take on a ‘no shave’ month challenge and do yoga like she did and are celebrated like the whimsical little hippies that only THEY are allowed to be. Suddenly, the thing that marred your humanity and existence is trendy, edgy and hip. Wonder why that label sticks with Downtown Karen Brown and not me? Take the bindi of your face and the namaste out of your mouth until we invite you to do so. It doesn’t belong there. It never did.
Racism doesn’t exist, they said while sneering at your ‘gross’ food that once kept entire villages from dying of malnutrition for thousands of years before their civilization even existed. That was the only sacred gift families could give to another before long journeys and difficult plights ahead. We gave you spices for your cold potato salad that weren’t even on your radar before the 12th century, show some respect for something that isn’t yours just once .
Racism doesn’t exist, you’re rich after all, you think you’re ‘better’. while simultaneously making fun of your cheap clothes cause your penny pinching immigrant parents were in constant crisis mode activated by weaponized poverty and white supremacy, while making ignorant comments about a religion they copied that even you don’t 100% believe in while refusing to sit next to you, snidely replying this seat is taken and whispering about you behind their back-that is, only if you were lucky, they were usually emboldened enough to do it to your face. You weren’t THEM, after all -you didn’t get to matter
Racism doesn’t exist, they sneer, while making fun of the way you walk, talk your personhood itself. While asking if you worship cows while they smear their own feces water on themselves in the name of salvation
Racism doesn’t exist, I’m not white/straight/rich either, they’d sneer, while carrying water/spewing out half truths/weaponized talking points for the thing that actually hurt them. Believing the bile fed to them. It wasn’t us. It was never us.
Racism doesn’t exist, the same things happened to me. Betty, I have no doubt it was as painful for you as it is me, but they were making fun of your acne and braces, not your personhood. Your humanity. Your identity itself. Your very existence. Also, btw, it just goes to show that the standards of white supremacy/blonde nordic ideal/‘family’ (lol)values you failed to uphold hurt you too.
Don’t play the victim, they’d cry, but when you threw 1/180th of what they did back in their faces, the crocodile tears began and never ended. It was a goddamn epidemic. Victims don’t sludge through mud with average grades and ignorant teachers who hated them for breathing to rise amongst the ashes and become a physician, writer and a mother, thank you very much, do they? My rise isn’t something to be jealous of, of course I got lucky in many ways but all it means is if I can do anything, so can you-and then some.
Don’t play the victim, you act arrogant and put your foot in your mouth too often. Sure, I can acknowledge my fatal flaws but then so should you-your own fragility and arrogance. You scored a touchdown at the peak of your high school career and called yourself the GOAT. They cheered, not berated you. Maybe stop talking for once and learn something. Why is our first instinct to always bring women ‘down’ a peg? Have you ever asked yourself why we were meant to be kept down in the first place? Start questioning. Loving ourselves and blowing our own horns doesn’t mean you aren’t special too. It’s only ugly if we drag your own name into the mud.
Do I blame them? Well, yes and no. Their parents drank. They suffered the crushing weights of coal mines, injury and often, the poverty and drug addiction that followed. They’ve been fed anger and lies for so long they can’t tell which way is up and keep sinking deeper and swimming downwards instead. All they know is what they’ve been told. Poke holes in the talking point they’ve blindly recited, they can’t defend it and get angry. Think that you’re calling them stupid. We know nothing about your intelligence. But if you can’t defend your argument-well, do you really believe it? Or did someone tell you to believe it like you believe in your own soul and salvation? Maybe,just maybe, God sent us to remind you of the real truths that exist outside of your disinformation bubble.
Tha truth is, hurt people hurt people. But this isn’t Braveheart. They’re no longer the brave underdog Scottish lads and lassies fighting for their own freedom. They have somehow become the oppressor itself.
And yes, not all. But I’m not talking about you then, am I? Sit down and realize what your friends/colleagues/mothers and fathers did. Like it or not, what you LET them do while you stared on silently. We don’t blame you as much as you think, you’d better believe we’ve had to do it too. And have some humility. Leave them in the dust and join us in the sunshine where yes it still pours sometimes but there are tree leaves and flowers and beauty and love and GROWTH.
When you know better, you do better. All the mud and mistakes and weariness on my face and bones should teach y’all that.
What you’re experiencing now isn’t racism, just backlash to the racism of your own people-and it’s been LONG overdue. Yes, everyone is rightfully angered. No it’s not all on you but maybe get past your own personal feelings and agenda and just listen. Your ancestors ’othered’ more people than they included, and yea, that isn’t your fault-but if you and your children continue the pattern, it’s on you too. If you refuse to speak up, it’s on your too. The time for courage is now. We’ve multiplied, and are doing well. It burns some of you, we see you. Ignore those darker urges like Christ would. Do better. Join us in the sun.
The good old days y’all had were at someone else’s expense-never forget. Let’s forge something new and better ahead WITHOUT trampling on other folks-gay, trans brown, black, female, etc this time. Let it be seen that I reduced my own identity to etc because I’m as conditioned as you. We are ALL works in progress. Come join us in the sun.
Uma Parmar 