A year ago,
I turned down a fairly lucrative job possibility at UCLA.
It was for their stem cell research department.
I asked if they used adult stem cells,
it was all embryonic.
I walked away from that possibility
because I knew I couldn’t stand before God
and admit to being a part of killing children
just because I was afraid I couldn’t pay the rent.
And I’ve been able to pay my rent,
in spite of that
(because of that?)
One week ago,
I got a call to interview with a company called Break Media.
I called The Boyo,
excited to have an interview after so many months without one.
He looked up the company.
And I heard hesitation in his voice.
They’re a company that “knows guys”.
Because “guys” flock in droves to their sites,
Holyta*co being my favorite example of the unapologetic misogyny they represent.
If I took this job,
I would lose any right I have to speak up about
unfair representation of women in the media.
I would be a part of the industry that contributes to
my eating disorder on a regular basis.
I would be a part of pretending that it’s “normal” for guys to behave like animals.
And that’s probably the most insulting part of this company’s M.O.–
it would almost be better if they were *actually* dealing in porn,
instead of dismissing their onslaught of photos and videos of girls in
compromising clothing and positions as “boys will be boys”.
That’s a lie.
Boys can be Men.
If I took that job,
I would never be able to ask that of any man I love or care for.
What went through my head as I found out more about this company was something like this:
Another job possibility I can’t follow up on for reasons of morality?
But I passed this test!
Why must I take it again?”
I didn’t understand.
I don’t understand.
I know that God’s ways are mysterious,
I wish He would pull back the curtain,
just a little.
One of the hardest bits of this whole hellish year
has been feeling as though I have to bite my tongue–
I have a roof over my head,
clothes on my back,
shoes I can hock if I need to,
amazing friends who have covered my ass in more ways than
I could possibly count.
When I think about what Friend Mary went through–
my problems are so…beige.
But that doesn’t make the hurt
and the disappointment any easier to bear.
There are a few ordeals that happened this year
that I still don’t talk about with anyone, really.
It just feels like one test
and no matter whether I make good decisions,
decisions that continue to imperil me on the graces of
unemployment and uncertainty,
the tempest still comes.
It is a hard hard thing to realize
that happiness is not my inalienable right.