This Is the Friend Zone

My Dear Reader,

Lately, I've been hearing the idea of the friend zone and how that term can be misunderstood and used for unfair purposes.

The argument is that the term is manipulative. If you say that you have unrequited love, for example, the implication is that you've had some bad luck. They don't love you back, and that it a sad story, my friend. That's just life, you know? Let me give you a hug and some hot chocolate.

But if you tell me that you've been friend zoned, you're not just saying that your feelings are not returned. There is an accusation hidden in your words, asserting that you have somehow been abused. The object of your affection has inexplicably become the bad guy. How dare they! Don't they know who you are? Something must be seriously wrong with them. Let's sit here and say mean things about them while they don't have the opportunity to respond.

I personally don't often use the term to describe my own relationships. I generally feel like it only applies when the guy is really laying it on thick long after I've gotten the message. If I say you've friend zoned me, I mean that I complimented your tie and you replied by telling me how you reeeeeeally looooove your girlfriend, nudge nudge wink wink slap in the face. Then I usually laugh about it and move on, because really, I don't care. If I was attracted to you, I certainly am not any more.

Not that guys don't reject me on a daily/hourly basis. They apparently find me repulsive or something. It's just that I don't feel that I have a right to demonize someone based on whether they like me or not. When it comes to dating, I have two rules:*

Rule #1

• No one is obligated to be attracted to me.

Rule #2

• No one should have to explain why they're not attracted to me, because they don't need a reason to find me unattractive.

This is crucial, because a misunderstanding of this basic principle is, in my opinion, the foundation of a lot of unfair and cruel behaviors. These behaviors can range from harmless grumbling to backbiting to destruction of personal property. Not good.

In extreme cases, it can even lead to rape. Don't you roll your eyes at me. Most women are raped by men that they know.** A man who respects a woman's right to refusal would just leave her alone instead of taking what he wants by force through scarring physical and psychological violence. 

Because it all boils down to this: when any person believes that they have the right to tell another person how to feel or act towards them, they have denied that person their God-given agency. That's extremely objectifying, and objectifying anyone is wrong. People deserve better than that. They have a right to lead their own lives, even if you don't like their choices.

And yeah, it sucks to have unrequited feelings. It really, really sucks. But, you know, try not to take it personally. Attraction is hard to explain and even harder to control. It's possible that they don't have a conscious reason, and that is allowed. Just think of all of the people that you've found unattractive for a reason you can't name. It happens.

It's also possible that they do have a reason, and that it's a valid one. But that's a post for another day.

Either way, it's really important to be respectful of others' feelings, whether you like them or not.

And let me be clear: if you don't respect other people's feelings, you are not allowed to label yourself as a nice guy or a nice girl. If you think people are obligated to be attracted to you, you are at best a gigantic jerk.

Actually, I have stronger words for you, but I choose not to use them at this time.

Do you know what nice guys/girls do when they discover that their feelings are unrequited? They often feel sad. They might even go home and treat themselves to some ice cream and a comforting movie. But what they most certainly do is back off. They will either move on or try to present themselves in a different way. But they will undoubtedly respect the right of refusal.

Because if you really care about someone, their happiness is more important than what you want.

And, you know, if you really are a catch, then someone else will realize it. Don't waste your time grumbling! Go out and find that person!

All in all, I really hope that you can find the one who's right for you. Someone who will requite your love and treat you well. Just remember that genuine respect for others is a super attractive quality, wink wink.


Regards, best wishes, and lots of love,

-Cecily Jane

*Those aren't my only dating rules; they're just the only ones that happen to be relevant.

** Source: U.S. Department of Justice. 2005 National Crime Victimization Study. 2005.***

***I would say that this applies to both men and women, but men are exclusively raped by strangers. But I'm not singling out men as evil here; women can be extremely cruel when rejected.

Holden Caulfield and Banning Books

My Dear Reader,

As I mentioned previously, one of the books I read for my Ten Classics in 2013 challenge was Catcher in the Rye. Since it's one of the most banned books of all time, and since I read it right after reading Fahrenheit 451, I've been thinking a lot about censorship and age-appropriate material.

Really, I can see both sides of this issue.

On one side, you have the obvious truth that children react badly when exposed to things too young. Sometimes, it can be really traumatizing. When I was seven, one of my friend's parents let us watch Chucky, and let me tell you, I had nightmares for years. To this day, coming across a screenshot gives me shivers.

There's also the truth that children are constantly mimicking the behavior of whoever or whatever happens to be around them. That's the only thing that explains the explosion of over-dramatic, ineffective attempts at violence that exploded in my neighborhood after Power Rangers became popular.

So with those concerns in mind, a book like Catcher in the Rye can be pretty threatening. Holden Caulfield, the "protagonist," has little regard for rules. Though underage, he drinks and smokes. He is sent to private school after private school because he doesn't take his academic responsibilities seriously. Actually, he doesn't take any responsibilities seriously. And when he knows that he is going to get kicked out of yet another school, he skips town rather than deal with any negative consequences of his own failure. Really, Holden isn't much of a role model. And since he spends most of the book doing the exact things that parents tend to forbid their kids from doing, along with the brief instances of foul language and other controversial items, I can see why a lot of parents don't like it.

But, on the other hand, there is a reason why Catcher in the Rye is a classic.

This reason is not immediately apparent. For the first three quarters of the book, I was both bored and annoyed at Holden, because Holden is a loser. He sucks at pretty much everything, and to make it worse, he also complains about everything. I'm not even sure that he tries. Halfway through the book, I almost stopped reading because I was sick of waiting for something to happen. Spoiler alert: nothing does, really. This book is basically a few days in the odd life of a high school dropout.

But I'm really glad that I stuck with it, because in the last quarter of the book, things start to make sense. You start to see that Holden is not meant to be some kind of hero, as much as he wants to be. The story of Holden is a story of a broken kid, trapped between childhood and adulthood, who does not know how to find his place in the world. Of course I wanted to give up on Holden. Holden has given up on himself long before the novel began. Holden's life is one of profound disappointment in both himself and those around him.

And, you know, there is probably more than one teenager who can relate to that.

Catcher in the Rye is a classic because, like many classics, it expertly captures a piece of truth that resonates. Granted, that truth is not always pretty, but it's real. And sometimes I think that this is the whole reason that we read books. We read in order to get out of our own heads and see if we can find a part of ourselves in someone else's. And as much as I want to roll my eyes at Holden Caulfield, I have to admit that he is very real. While I've never done pretty much anything he does in the book, I can relate to him on a pretty profound level. At some point or another, it's possible that we are Holden Caulfield.

Yes, Holden does some bad things. Leaving school and holing up in some skeevy hotel in the city in order to annoy everyone around him is probably not the best idea. But Holden's bad choices lead him to bad consequences. No one can read this book and come away with the idea that smoking, drinking, and complaining paves the road to happiness.

And just as Holden is confused as to whether he is a child or an adult, it's hard to tell when a kid is adult enough to handle the kind of truth that is presented in Catcher in the Rye. There is a real danger in letting your kid grow up too fast or too slowly. On one extreme, you've got eight-year-old kings, and on the other, you've got thirty-five-year-old basement dwellers. Most parents are shooting for the center of that spectrum.

How do you get to the center? I have no idea.

But realistically speaking, while Catcher in the Rye does have some undesirable content, it's a whole lot cleaner than a lot of the literature out there, which will be required reading in college. Even in one of the most conservative schools in the country, like the one I attended. When kids finish high school, they are expected to magically become adults. Maybe tagging along on Holden's journey will help them get there.

Either way, Catcher in the Rye is an excellent book. The best way to figure out if it's appropriate is to read it for yourself and make your own conclusions. Just make sure you make it all the way to the end.

Regards, best wishes, and I'm not telling you how to raise your kids,

-Cecily Jane

Ignorance and Fire

My Dear Reader,

Last week I talked to you about my self-imposed challenge of reading ten classics in 2013.

I'm pleased to say that as of March, I've read The Hobbit, Fahrenheit 451, and Catcher in the Rye. Not bad, if I say so myself.

These three books were each important to me because, for various reasons, they were books I'd given up on as a teenager. I feel especially bad about Fahrenheit 451 because it's a dystopian novel, my absolute favorite genre. I tried reading it in high school and quit about two chapters in, probably because I didn't get Ray Bradbury's style. I also tried reading some of his other works (I was determined to be a fan of his at that age), and it just didn't appeal to me. I don't know what's changed between then and now, but I just loved reading it this time around.

Fahrenheit 451 is about a dark future in which all books are banned. Firemen, instead of putting fires out, are now in charge of burning books.

So it's pretty natural to think that the book is about censorship, and on a surface level, it is. But the deeper I went, the more I started to realize that it's not really about censorship as much as it's about how intellectual laziness leads to anti-intellectualism. That's a pretty powerful subject.

As I read, I came across this quote: "If you hide your ignorance, no one will hit you and you'll never learn."

And I thought that quote pretty much sums up my high school experience.

The teenage years are pretty confusing for everybody, mostly because your intelligence has finally risen to a level where you start to realize that the world around you isn't as perfect as you once thought it was. At the same time, however, you are not yet intelligent or experienced enough to know what to do about it. In most cases, this creates a lot of angsty whining. I wish I could say that I was above all of that, but then my pants might combust. 

So yeah, I was a pretty annoying teenager. And I was also pretty vocal.

Did you want to know any of my ideas on culture, religion, or politics? You barely had to ask. Did you want to know what was wrong with anything within my field of vision? You probably didn't, but I told you anyway. I usually managed to be nicer about it than I felt like being, but let's just say that it was easy to lose patience with me in a very short amount of time.

And you know what? A lot of people were pretty honest right back. A lot of people challenged everything I thought and believed. And they weren't always nice about it. And at a very vulnerable and confusing time in my life, it really, really hurt.

But the more I was challenged, the more I had to find a way to counter their arguments.

And the more I had to counter an argument, the more I had to think.

And the more I thought, the more I learned (by trial and error) how to separate what was actually true from what I wanted to be true.

And the more I figured out what was actually true, the more I learned that even though the world was imperfect, I had the opportunity to become a better person and make my world at least bearable.

So, to summarize: I showed my ignorance, I got hit, and I learned.

And what's so great about Fahrenheit 451 is that it shows you what happens when people hide their ignorance. It shows a culture where people want to look intelligent instead of be intelligent. So they read the CliffsNotes and say they read the whole thing. And then they get this weird but common idea that there is too much to read and learn, and it's not worth the trouble. They don't want to be challenged. They want to be entertained.

So they dumb down everything in their life until they are living on an intellectual diet analogous to Twinkies and Oreos.

And when everyone is like that, you know who the greatest threat is? Someone who reads.

That's why they have to burn the books. The best way to hide your ignorance is to surround yourself with people as ignorant as you are.

The really scary thing about all of this is how true it is, and how much I see it around me. What's terrifying is how much I see it in myself. There are days and sometimes weeks when all I ask of the world is to distract me enough so I don't have to think. Maybe it's not so bad once in a while. But on a regular basis? Well, then, it seems to me like I have a choice between burning my ignorance or burning my chance at becoming better.

Either way, there is going to be fire. I just have to choose where to direct it.

So yes, I did give up on reading a book at the same time in which I was essentially living its main conflict. Irony gets you every time. In the end, though, I'm not sure if Teenage Cecily would have benefited as much from the ideas in Fahrenheit 451 as much as I (Present Cecily) did. I think that as an adult, when it is a lot easier to hide my ignorance if I so choose, it is all the more important for me to remember the danger of intellectual laziness.

Of course, I have seven more classics to read, so my brain doesn't really have time for loafing.


Regards, best wishes, and the courage to be ignorant,

-Cecily Jane