Wake Me Up Before You Cuomo
When plans creep up in your calendar
Ready Or Not, Here We Come
We’re deep into August, and I thought I would have acclimatized back into real life by now. I’ve seen a few friends, eaten inside at a restaurant, have tickets to see the Jays, but I don’t feel normal.
Not even close.
If I'm honest, I've been detached. Life is moving by in a blur, and the whole thing is clouded in social anxiety. It's like I’m dating my old life. Things are going okay, but I don’t want to plan too far in advance or get too invested. The government could pull the plug at any minute, and I remember how much that hurt last year.
For now I'm living by the age-old rule that you can’t RSVP to an event further away than half the time you’ve been together. It's a tough measure considering our freedom isn't even official yet.
I know I haven't had a DTR (define the reopening) conversation...
With the world bouncing back I find myself distracted by what used to be mundane - where to go for a drink, what to wear, who to text. There was a time when nowhere, sweatpants, and no one were the answers to everything. On cold winter days it was a given that I would stay inside in my pyjamas and write about women being exploited.
You know, the usual.
Researching those sexual assault cases used to be cathartic. Hear me out: writing about sexism opened a whole world outside of my apartment to focus on. When the biggest choice in my day was which couch to use, crafting opinions about trans legislation and the portrayal of Meghan Markle in the media was a welcomed distraction.
Now the world is seeping into my space, and I don’t have to look as far for inspiration.This week alone I’ve been confronted with news stories of an Olympic runner getting stalked, Prince Andrew raping children, a German program designed to give foster children to pedophiles, investigations into major discrepancies in Britney’s money, and the world literally ending….
It’s a whirlwind around me, and I am just one person just trying to pick an outfit to go to the grocery store in.
Forever Iconic
Stranger Danger
Almost everyone I know is struggling to define their comfort levels as we get back to normal. I have coworkers taking clandestine trips to the States, paranoid their travel plans will tarnish their argument to keep working from home.
After more than a year apart, reintegrating is more involved than just sharing a physical space. Beyond the masks, there’s a barrier between me and other people that’s tougher to
Over the pandemic distancing was a safety precaution. We kept an arms length by necessity, but isolation is a habit that’s not so easily broken. Some have posed that it might be easier to convince ourselves that we love being alone than experience the discomfort of reuniting. Why risk a failed connection when Netflix has never led us astray?
In contrast, I've never felt closer to my partner than I have through the pandemic. How can I be simultaneously so connected and so distant? According to Dr. Murthy there are 3 types of loneliness. We need connection from intimate partners, social groups, and the collective. In other words, it’s not enough to sit around your house with your boyfriend, you need more casual interactions and a connection to the outer community to avoid feeling lonely.
Since being locked away, multiple reports have claimed that small talk with strangers is vital for our well-being. Jane E. Brody wrote for the New York Times that "consequential strangers" make life more interesting by providing novel experiences otherwise vacant from our inner circles.
After all this time, how do we go about rebuilding those weaker ties? If someone tries to even look at me on the elevator, I panic.
Recently I’ve been stressed about my company’s back-to-office plan. A month from today I’ll be strutting down the halls to and from my cubicle. How archaic. While I'm excited at the prospect of watercooler chat, I haven’t built up my own social circle enough to feel comfortable expending energy on coworkers.
I'm simply not ready to make those casual connections a priority.
Beyond those concerns is the reality that I’ve changed. We all have. This experience has been transformative, and I'm nervous to see which relationships have grown apart. I went into 2020 as a binge-drinker with a pension for theme parties. I'm emerging a stoner with a 10:30pm bedtime and morning writing regimen.
Who do I even know anymore?
Wake Me Up Before You Cuomo
The more sinister point of view is that we never fully know anyone anyway.
One of my coworkers has been lamenting for weeks that he needs a whole new group of friends after discovering his circle is anti-vax. Serial killers often have families who never suspected their dad was murdering people in his free time. Hannah Montana famously had the best of both worlds for 4 straight seasons.
The news of Governor Andrew Cuomo demonstrates how our perceptions of someone can turn on a dime. Cuomo used to be known as a feminist hero in New York. He signed and approved legislation providing protections against sexual harassment and lengthening the statute of limitations for rape. He also made it easier for women to come forward with claims of sexual assault and aligned himself heavily with the #MeToo movement and Time's Up.
Behind closed doors, however, Cuomo was preying on the very women he swore to help.
As of today at least 11 women have accused Cuomo of sexual harassment or inappropriate advances. A former assistant said he "fixated on her experience as a sexual assault survivor" before making unwanted advances.
This isn't the first (or last) political story of sexual misconduct. Faced with these allegations, Cuomo has resigned - something we can’t say of predators like Trump, Kavanaugh, or really most of the heavy hitters. Their process has always been to deny deny deny.
Despite his willingness to admit wrongdoing, this story is extra icky because of his dedication to #MeToo. As a vocal feminist his behaviour feels more exploitative.
The funniest part is that I'm sure he thinks of himself as a stand-up guy. It's all for the greater good, right? He’s helping the many and preying on the few. Those advances are a warranted treat for his otherwise gracious support.
The bar of male decency is that low.
This is a great opportunity to point out the stupidity of the phrase "not all men." It doesn't matter if it's not all of them, the problem is that we have no way of discerning who is and who isn’t a rapist. Not all snakes are poisonous, but enough of them are that I don't feel inclined to grab any off the ground.
Even the "safe" ones have fangs.
The best course of action is to always assume the worst. Similarly, isolation is still my go-to security measure. There’s an art to opening up to others that's been tough to maintain from home.
Stories like this don't make it any easier.
Hug It Out
I took a yoga class this week that focused on heart openers.
While wobbling in a bind, the instructor went on and on in my earbuds about the important of expansion. We need to expand for personal growth and to take up our own space. "The only way that type of opening is possible," she said, "is if you feel supported". The self-hug of the bind is meant to give you a foundation to expand from.
In COVID all of our foundations dissipated, but slowly they’re coming back. As an avid hugger, the first time I felt another friend’s skin was powerful.
Hugs in general have scientific benefits. One study found that hugs can reduce blood pressure and heart rate. Another shows that retirement home residents who received 3 or more hugs a day were less depressed, had more energy, and could concentrate for longer. I even found reports of a family therapist who insists that we need a minimum of 4 hugs a day for survival and 12 for personal growth.
I’m learning that the affects of these are taking awhile to soak in. I need a few more to get my foundation back and expand. So, if you're also having a hard time adjusting, make sure you get in a few extra squeezes in the coming weeks.
Just don’t take them from the former Governor of New York.
