I made a friend! And then I yelled at her.

Sigh.

I get so angry. I try not to. I try to push it down. But every time I'm forcing down whatever wrath has been conjured, it fights me back. Knowing when to shut up is an art. Or maybe the real art comes when you figure out how to say what you say without making it about being angry.

So this friend of mine, who shall remain nameless obviously (I'm not in the gossip business. Yet.), found herself in a compromising position with a young man where she should have spoken up and didn't. Her reasoning?

Guilt.

I grew up your quintessential WASP. New England born. Mayflower roots. Never supposed to talk about money or bodily functions. Although I find guilt to be mostly a Catholic thing, the 'in' WASP thing to do is feel guilt when you think others might be disappointed or uncomfortable. The logic in this is archaic, yes. However, the practice runs so deep into the culture that I have yet to shake my twisted understanding of it. It makes people do crazy things.

And by crazy I mean old-fashioned.

It has forced women to apologize profusely when there is no need. To put someone else before you when they don't really deserve it. To worry more about what people expect of you than what you expect of others. Guilt has perpetuated unhealthy relationships, fights rooted in delusions instead of fact, standing up for others and not for oneself. It's not a good-lookin' force. The worst part of it is that people act in response to the threat of guilt and not to actual guilt itself. Meaning "I won't do this or say this because I don't want to end up feeling guilty at some point".

So I reacted in anger when my new friend expressed guilt over not pleasing someone (a man, to be specific). I don't feel guilty about getting angry. I feel bad for not communicating calmly and effectively. In addition, I think my new friend rocks and I'm disappointed that she would give up her own comfort for someone else. It's one thing to give and take in a relationship but it's another to be unaware of your limits or your limitations.

And on one last fire-feminist-raging note, haven't we done enough, suffered enough, and overcome enough to know that we don't have to live our lives pleasing men and not ourselves? Or better yet, find some sort of balance between pleasing and being pleased?

Let's show our new and improved biceps, shall we?