Wrestling with My Inner Mean Girl in Honor of #MeToo

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Great Stuff by Paul Antiques in Frederick, Md.

Time magazine named “The Silence Breakers” (known online as #MeToo) as its Person of the Year for 2017. While many women and men were thrilled to see Time honor those who spoke out against sexual harassment and assault, more than a few people’s second thought was, “What the heck is Taylor Swift doing on the cover?”

While it’s true Swift sued a radio DJ for groping her and stood up to him admirably in court this summer, the singer is one of the biggest stars on the planet, and her inclusion on the cover comes across as crass.

Swift, like Lena Dunham and Gwyneth Paltrow among others, is one of those celebrities whose self-promotion often hits a sour note. Let’s face it, successful people make it almost too easy—and so satisfying—to pass judgment on them. Not only do the rich and famous appear to lead charmed lives, but they have the privilege of a vast platform from which to lecture the rest of us. It only seems fair to take them down a peg or two on occasion.

A couple decades ago reality television came along to capitalize on the human instinct to gape at attention-seeking people with a combination of envy and distaste. We might secretly wish to possess the good luck of these TV personalities, but we also revel in the fact that they are far more messed up than us unknown folk.

My favorite guilty pleasure in this arena is CBS’s long-running Survivor. I both admire and resent the contestants for having the guts to follow their dreams, the great fortune to make it onto the show, and the toned bodies that only get leaner as the season progresses. When a strong competitor grows too confident about their control in the game, it feels so gratifying to see them get blindsided.

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Tomorrow’s Antiques in New Market, Md.

More recently, social media has risen to both fuel and fulfill our desire to shake our heads at people who dare to be too perfect, too desperate, or too clueless. And this time around, anyone with an internet connection is invited to broadcast their persona to the world.

This penchant we have for making people famous only to rip them apart often involves women as both the targets and perpetrators. This is understandable, of course. Women grow up with the knowledge that they are being compared to each other and rated on their attractiveness, femininity, clothes, likeability, home decor, marital status, and mothering skills. In addition to mastering these attributes, many women are also expected to be crushing it at the workplace and involved in our community, church, or political party.

This sense of constantly being under the microscope can make women frustrated, tired, and resentful. A quick hit of disapproval aimed at another woman is so tempting. And what do you know, now we can log on to Facebook or Instagram and tsk-tsk at the moms who think their kids are perfect angels. We can sigh at yet another update from the woman with the life that looks like a Vanity Fair spread. And we can scoff at all the women who humble brag about their busy jobs, their killer workouts, and their cooking masterpieces.

Whether you’re talking about celebrities, reality stars, or social media users, they all choose to put themselves out there, so it’s ok to give their lives the side eye, right? At the same time, most of us realize that critiquing others is usually a sign that our own ego needs some boosting. The thing about looking down on others is that it doesn’t build any kid of permanent confidence. You must continually practice the art of the snicker if you want the cheap payoff of fleeting superiority.

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Tomorrow’s Antiques in New Market, Md.

While social media increases the opportunity to flex our internal bitch, the inclination can surface at any time or place. Recently my husband and I went out to dinner, and we ate at the restaurant’s bar. At one end, a woman sat alone with a glass of wine. She had a flower above one ear, a stiff smile, and a far-off look in her eyes. She reminded me of a character that Kristen Wiig might play—I could picture her suddenly grasping the bar with both hands and yelling “We’re all going to die!”

I texted a friend who shares my sense of humor to relay my observation. She asked for photographic evidence, so I took a photo of the woman while pretending to snap a selfie of myself and my husband. I followed this up by taking a picture of a second woman sitting directly across from us who was wearing a red and black lingerie-like top. I nicknamed her Moulin MILF, high on my own supply of cleverness.

When I got home, I felt mortified about my behavior. I deleted the pics and the texts and asked myself what inspired me to take photos of these strangers and then forward them on for my and my friend’s amusement.

To be honest, I think I was jealous of the woman in the slip top. She had long straight hair, which I’ve always coveted, and she had skinny, defined arms and shoulders, another thing with which I am not blessed. I was struck by the “green-eyed monster,” as my mom used to say. I can’t tell you why I was so preoccupied with the Kristen Wiig character-like woman. I don’t know if I was envious, but the delight I took in her certainly had an air of condescension.

I don’t want to admit that I am shallow or judgmental. But clearly there is a strain of petty viciousness running through me. This strain runs through all humans, I believe, but some of us are better at rejecting it than others.

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Emporium Antiques in Frederick, Md.

So, how do I quiet my inner mean girl? And why, as we are honoring the #MeToo movement, is it important to take time to focus on women being cruel toward other women?

I believe that I can be a far better ally to women if I can refrain from sizing them up, looking for flaws. If I’m going to support my sisters, I need to stop seeing them as competition. I’ve come up with a five-point plan to help guide me:

One:  Reflect on my behavior, explore my motives, and create accountability by documenting my thoughts. Check!

Two:  When I catch myself thinking or saying something unkind, try to turn it around right away. Replace bad thoughts with positive or at least more forgiving thoughts. So, instead of “Jeez, doesn’t Taylor Swift get enough publicity as it is?” I can change it to, “Taylor Swift has a ton of young fans—it’s great that they will be exposed to #MeToo because of her inclusion.”

Three: Reduce my social media consumption. Unless I’m looking for news or posting something creative, I will limit myself to two 15-minute sessions per day of random scrolling and clicking. I know from trying this before that limiting my social media time means I spend those minutes more wisely.

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Tomorrow’s Antiques in New Market, Md.

Four:  Focus on building my own confidence in as many ways as possible. This will not only decrease my need to feel better-than-she, but it will keep me too busy to engage in pointless snark and gossip.

Five:  Celebrate the awesome women in the world who deserve to have a little more light shed on their efforts, like Tarana Burke, who started Me Too 10 years ago.

That insecure girl inside of me is on notice, and I’m sure Taylor Swift will rest easier.

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My original bad habit

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Playing on my phone when I can’t sleep is just part of the problem.

The television in my childhood home rarely went dark. We had a TV that sat on a stand with wheels so we could swivel it around from the living room to face the dining table during meals and then back again.

As I got ready for school, we turned on Channel 13’s morning show, and I would often stop to watch Ernie Lee play the guitar and sing “You picked a fine time to leave me Lucile” or “I wish I was a Teddy Bear.”  In the afternoons, I logged countless hours watching The Brady Bunch, Gilligan’s Island, The Merv Griffin Show, and Guiding Light.

After dinner, you could find my family viewing Charlie’s Angels, Fantasy Island, Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, Welcome Back Kotter, the movie of the week…the list goes on. Sunday evenings meant The Wonderful World of Disney, The Lawrence Welk Show, or possibly 60 Minutes. I started watching The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson and Saturday Night Live at a young age, often staying up late by myself.

My love affair with television burned long and strong for decades. Once, in my early 30s, I tried a “summer without TV”–but certain exceptions had to be made for Grand Slam tennis tournaments and other “special” events, and the whole thing fell apart rather quickly.

My husband and I first discovered binge watching way back in 2002 when we consumed the entire first season of 24 on DVD in about four days. Cable, VCRs, TiVo, Netflix, Hulu, Amazon Prime–these have all been both a blessing and a curse to my kind.

As I started to write this piece, I asked myself: What is it about TV that has so captivated me over the years? As a writer, I appreciate great storytelling and compelling characters. The aesthetically inclined side of me confesses to being seduced by well-composed shots, the artful use of music, and gorgeous settings, clothes, and people.

But, the great Marshall McLuhan might suggest that I look deeper than the content, that I examine my habit and its impact on my life because “the medium is the message.”

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Fireworks on Lake Linganore, Md.

In January of this year, I attempted to go a month without television. Giving up my morning dose of The Today Show would be easy: After decades of dedication, I had been hate watching the show for several years (at least), so it wasn’t much of a loss. Fortunately I had already scaled back on mindless channel surfing–you know, the kind that results in watching the Home Shopping Network, marathons of Tiny House Hunters, or old Match Games.

All my “primetime shows” (oh, what a quaint term) did not have to be viewed in real time, so I could get back to them starting in February if I so desired. On the other hand, just saying no to The Daily Show before falling to sleep was going to be more difficult.

The objective of this experiment was to open up time to write and read and work on other more productive projects. I had recently heard more than one successful blogger-turned-author reveal on a podcast that they simply had to give up TV to make any progress toward their goals. As a bonus, I was also hoping to sleep better without any screen time before bed.

Social media was not exempt from this exercise. I decided to limit myself to two 15-minute sessions per day. I would set the timer on my phone before jumping on Facebook or Instagram, and I had to stop when the alarm went off. Unless I was in the middle of reading a particularly enlightening article (yes, my life is full of loopholes).

Most likely, my experiment would be deemed a failure by any reputable scientist. I did not last very long before allowing myself to watch one hour of television in the evening with my husband. I did not write very much. I did not post on this blog at all between Dec. 31 and May 1. My one accomplishment was to give up TV in the mornings completely and permanently.

Maybe I’m selling the month short. I did learn a lot about myself, particularly through the social media restriction, which I am proud to say I maintained for all 31 days. With limited time for Facebooking, I tried to make the most of those minutes, which included refusing to take part in pointless political arguments. And I tried not to go on Instagram unless I had something to share that I thought people would genuinely like.

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Picking berries by Lake Linganore, Md.

So, what did I learn during my January experiment and the months since?

Well, I’m battling against years of conditioning. I watch TV out of habit and often without much thought. Patterns have been set through decades of practice, deep grooves worn in my brain.

The idea that I won’t watch at least some television every single day seems downright unnatural. And why shouldn’t I grab my phone a hundred times a day to check, um, whatever?

My brain hungrily awaits stimulation. It wants to be fed. I have trained my mind to be passive, cluttered, and consumptive. Even while researching this piece I found myself watching the “pivot” couch scene from Friends–a scene I have seen close to a million times.  The internet is a dangerous place for people like me!

It’s going to be an ongoing project to whittle down my media diet. As it went with smoking, I won’t be able to go cold turkey. I will need lots of time to ease myself into no longer being a TV addict.

When I reach a plateau, I must press on. Morning TV and channel surfing are gone. Reality TV, except for a few respectable hold-outs, is a thing of the past. Weekend TV and sports have been mostly excised. Next for uprooting is watching late night shows in bed. And then the big challenge, my evening fix of well-crafted dramas and the increasingly rare comedy.

I can’t say for sure that I will not make room for any TV in my life. What would life be without shows like Friday Night Lights, Breaking Bad, or The OA? And what about Full Frontal with Samantha Bee and Last Week Tonight with John Oliver?

Maybe I can get my habit down to five hours a week. Would that be so bad?

My goal is to shape my life into something more varied and creative. If I can find a way to combine TV with the life I want to lead, then good for me. But if I can’t, I know now which one has to go.