Showing posts with label best friend: Crystal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label best friend: Crystal. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Blogoversary: Two Years of Finding My Virginity



Two years and one day ago, I styled my hair a new way.


Today I twist my hair up like that several times a week.


Two years and one day ago, I wore a new black dress with purple flowers.


Today that dress is too big for me, but it hangs in my closet for curvier days ahead.


Two years ago, I had my shared apartment to myself because Lauren was out of town.


Today Lauren and I have our own apartments down the street from each other.


Two years ago, I drank 3-4 cans of Diet Coke with Lime a day.


Today I drink 3-4 cans of Diet Coke, sometimes with Lime, a week.


One year and one day ago, I said good-bye to my family in the South and moved to the Midwest.


Today I’ve lived in the same city, without interruption, for the longest amount of time since graduating high school.*


One year ago, I wrote the scariest post I’d ever written.


Today I take the first step to losing my anonymity.**
Taking selfies without showing my face is HARD, y'all!


My reasons for anonymity are legit. I think wanting to discuss sensitive topics like sex and sexuality with complete honesty is difficult without anonymity. I mostly read lifestyle blogs, and y’all don’t talk about sex. Like, ever. Which is totally fine and your prerogative and I respect that decision completely, because sex is personal. But I can’t talk about virginity without talking about sex, and I don’t know if I could have maintained this blog for the last two years if my parents, former professors, colleagues, etc. had been reading it.


But anonymity is tiring. I think twice before I tweet about what I’m doing. Does this refer to my location? I crop all my photos. How much of my face can I reveal before it identifies me too much? I have to keep track of pseudonyms for every single person in my life. I was hanging out with Hardy and Lauren, and damn it, where’s my list of best friends? What do I call… James, that’s it. I call him James.


And I write and write and write. I tweet and tweet and tweet. I comment everywhere. I buy ads on other blogs. I’m myself. I’m authentic. I paid for a blog design. I do all that stuff I’m supposed to do to build blog traffic, and it’s not enough. 


Look at my new button on Casey's blog!



Because the people who know me IRL aren’t allowed to post my blog to facebook, or link it to any mutual friends. Because I can’t ask my friends and family to like my facebook page.


Because the network I have who comment all over my personal facebook wall, who send me links to articles on sexual assault and modesty culture and France and women’s history, who email me to thank me for the work I do, who ask me if I blog, who share all over the place the tiny handful of public writing I do…


They have no idea Belle Vierge exists. Or if they’ve stumbled across her (this happened once), they don’t realize Belle is me.


But as much as I want to shed my cloak of anonymity and shout to the rooftops that I’m happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time, I’m not there yet.




I don’t really think my parents should find out I’m bisexual via a blog post, nor do I think it’s right or fair to attach H’s name to his assholery. And those of you who do know me IRL, and those of you who I met here who have discovered my real name, I think y’all will agree that my first name is unique. Unique enough that fear of discovery by future potential employers is a legitimate concern.


Seriously, if you google my first and last name, you find results for three people. That’s it. I share my name with a lawyer and with a photographer. Also my firstnamelastname.com domain name has already been taken, alas.


I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few weeks thinking about this post. Planning what I would write. And I should note, for the record, that I’m writing this the actual evening of July 30, 2013, still torn on what to reveal of myself while still allowing the freedom to be myself.


I realized I’m not so worried about people finding my blog and realizing it’s me as I am people knowing who I am, looking me up online, and discovering my blog. The first involves searching for certain qualities and associating them with me. The latter is only knowing me or my name and suddenly discovering some rather strong opinions and personal information.


So here are some things 
I never directly mentioned before.


Sunday, May 12, 2013

Paris, je t'aime


Paris me manque.


Two years ago today, I left Paris.


Writing that out breaks my heart. I miss Paris so much.


I began my love affair with Paris at a young age. I have no idea what initially piqued my interest, but for as long as I can remember, I have wanted to visit Paris.

Le Tour Eiffel
My junior year of college, I finally fulfilled my dream and studied abroad in France. For three months, I lived in Versailles with a French family and took theatre, conversation, grammar, and culture classes with eleven fellow students from my school. Each Wednesday afternoon, we had a cultural field trip, like to the Musée d’Orsay or to Auvers-sur-Oise (where Van Gogh died). On the weekends, we had optional trips, but they were even cooler. One weekend we toured Giverny (Monet’s home and gardens), and another weekend we spent visiting Le Petit Trianon. I found out that recent French grads could teach English in France, and I vowed to return when I finished school.

The grave of Vincent Van Gogh.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Misbehaving and Making History

The fact that I'm blogging after getting less than seven hours of sleep and then working eight hours in the JCP salon just shows how motivated I am by Jenni's challenge to blog every day in May. Also, I get really annoyed by people who assume that everyone has the same sleep needs. You can make fun of my need to get eight hours of sleep every night when you have an incurable disease. Until then, shush. Finally, I was really tempted to put, "May the Force be with you" as my favorite quotation since today is May the Fourth, and everyone is hilariously tweeting "May the Fourth be with you." Also, one of my pet peeves is when people use the word quote, a VERB, when they mean quotation, a NOUN.
I have many favorite quotations. Some are biblical, like Galations 3:28 and Psalm 8:1-9. Others are song lyrics, like "Gonna dance until my feet can't feel the ground." But most of my favorite quotations, unsurprisingly, are by women and about women.

One of my pet peeves on twitter are misattributed quotations or worse--unattributed quotations. It's called google, people. Use it.

The second-to-last night with my three best friends in France, with our matching tattoos only 24 hours old.
I bet you thought Marilyn Monroe said that. Or Eleanor Roosevelt. I also bet you have no idea who Laurel Thatcher Ulrich even is.

If you're not well-versed in American women's history, then you don't really have a reason to know Laurel Thatcher Ulrich. On the other hand, I double-majored in history and French, and I concentrated (minored) in Women's and Gender Studies. Naturally my undergraduate courses led me to Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, a prominent historian of early American history and women's history.

When I was younger (read: pre-university), I didn't understand this quotation. I was very much your stereotypical goody-two-shoes who worked hard in school, held multiple leadership positions, attended church regularly, and genuinely got along with everyone. I took the opposite of "well-behaved" quite literally. Why would I misbehave? Why would I do something wrong?

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