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, Nadine, housekeeping and femininity

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Hi Non Family,

I started setting limits on my internet use in order to get more done around the

house. It was quite amusing to read all this about housekeeping. I am the

worst mess, but I always attributed it to poor training. My recent ADD

diagnosis explained much also.

I wonder how many of us Nons have this domestic disability? BP's are supposed

to have prefrontal cortex problems as do kids with ADD. I wonder if Nons have

prefrontal cortex problems as a result of the BP experience, so we are

predisposed to be poor housekeepers.

Nada always said that she didn't enforce or get overly concerned about the house

because my grandmother nagged and nada didn't want to be a nag. I get

rebellious against housekeeping, and I kind of get proud about it as well. My

recent dilemna revolves around my nada's visit in July when she came in and took

over unpacking, and I feel like she made my place her own. I've been disabled

for months and would get depressed/angry/furious/frustrated whenever I tried to

make my apartment my own. I'm still having difficulites, but I'm better now

that I've worked through some of this BP stuff. With the validation from all of

you and from my therapist, I finally quit " spinning my wheels " while " against

the wall "

Which brings up femininity. I got rid of most of my pictures when I moved, so I

started buying more PreRaphaelite posters as I've been increasingly drawn to

maidens and knights and medival/renaissance type stuff for the past several

years. I found great prices on Waterhouse and Leighton posters on line. I

ended up finding a poster of a Rosetti painting called " Lesbia " (no inference

to sexuality) and bought it. (I had sent a card with the same picture to my

husband before we were married, found it years later, framed it and hung it in

my bedroom.) Also bought " Flaming June " and " Autum " to add to my copy of

Leighton's " Accolade " and " Godspeed " .

A couple of weeks ago, I felt stuck and unable to wrap my mind around why I

started to dislike myself at about age 4 and definitely by age 5. The posts on

this list about haircuts also tugged at this intense dislike of the little girl

that I have worked so hard to embrace in therapy about 10 years ago. I felt as

though I was back to square one with this inner child work, so I pulled out old

photos and started to think about them. When I took them to the counselor, she

noticed right away that I began to dislike myself when I started to get pretty

and interested in dressing up to go to school. I remembered how my father

laughed at my short hair, how I cried when it was cut (from chin length to very

very short) and how my nada mistook me for the neighbor BOY in photos when we

acquired them a couple of years ago when someone passed away.

Anyway, my issues focus around looking pretty and feeling lovely. Perhaps my

mother felt threatened, because it was about this same time that I remember

growing closer to my father. So I was chastised for looking or feeling lovely

by forcing the short haircuts. Who knows, but as I delved into these old

feelings, I started this facination with these Pre Raphaelite paintings of

beautiful, feminine women. This was the first heavy-handed, violent squashing

of my identity by nada, I think. I have trouble/guilt about beauty. I then

recalled that just after my husband and I got engaged, I cut my hair very short.

At the time, he thought that it was my attempt to be sure of him-- to mask my

beauty to see if he still would love me as much without the mane of hair that he

loved. It was weird because the issue of hair was bantered around on the list

recently.

My therapist felt that the knights and maidens theme reflected the danger and

the courage that I feel as I work my way through all this old junk. She really

found my preoccupation with this type of art to be interesting. It strikes me

as interesting that you (, Nadine) also bring up the subject of

femininity.

Odd... So many common themes in our lives of NonBPness. I'm so glad to

realize that I'm not on this journey alone. I always loved that Frost

poem about the road less travelled and felt like I was all alone on this path

through the yellow wood on the path that wanted wear. For the first time in my

life, since finding this group, I feel that --although I am walking alone

without sight of all of you-- I can hear your voices in the distance, describing

a road that sounds remarkably like my own. I've got to walk the path myself,

but your distant voices share your great courage with me and encourage me to

keep on the often difficult path.

K

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