Feminism in my life.

"Feminism is a collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, and social rights for women.^[1][2] This includes seeking to establish equal opportunities for women in education and employment." -Wikipedia

I think feminism may have been bred into me. I was born to a single, 20 year old woman, who was determined to make her way through college and make a life for us. She did that. She struggled through school with a toddler to get her Bachelor's in science, and then she went out into the world and made a name for herself. She now has two Master's degrees and is the head of a nationally recognized biotechnology program at a local college.

This post isn't about my mother, though.

This post is about me, and how being a feminist affects every single decision I make in life. This post is about how I've bred feminism into my own children, both my daughter and my son. This post is about what feminism means to me.

As a rebellious teenager, I defined feminism as being able to run around and do what I wished, date however many men I wanted, and have my world on a plate with no social repercussions. I bought myself birth control, and I worked a job where my co-workers were predominantly male. The misogynists I knew called me an undisciplined slut. I disagreed. I still disagree. 

As I've matured, so have my views on feminism. Sure, I still believe all those things above, but I also believe that I don't have to be the bra-burning rebel I was back then. I can be a feminist and create change in much more subtle ways.

When pregnant with my daughter, I was convinced originally that I would have an abortion. It felt like having her would be untrue to my feminist roots. Then I made the choice to keep her. For a long time I felt guilty about that, like I had let down all the other feminists in the world by not exercising my right to an abortion. Then I had the epiphany that I did just the opposite - I used my power of choice. The day that dawned on me, many other things became clear. Things like the fact that I could also make the choice to be a stay-at-home mom, or a part time work-out-of-home mom without feeling like I was betraying my fellow women.

Like I said, these days I'm a bit more subtle. I don't attend as many rallies as I used to, but I donate to NOW and other women's rights organizations. I fight against female genital mutilation in countries and religions where it's still practiced. I do what I can to help support the ending of the sex trade and domestic abuse. I teach my children that women are people too. My daughter has a firm grasp on the fact that she can and will be whatever and whomever she wants and I'll stand by her 100%. My son, while only three, nurtures his baby dolls, enjoys having his nails painted, and is unafraid to play dress-up. I will continue to teach him that women are his equals, in all ways.

Feminism to me means that I'm unafraid to reach for the stars, and I'm unafraid to instill that in my children, as well. Feminism means that I'm a whole person.

Tackling Taboo: Bipolar Parents

With the decriminalization of Postpartum Depression through massive amounts of media coverage, I'd like to try and create a new initiative: decriminalizing and myth-busting Bipolar Disorder in parents.

You see, I'm a Bipolar Parent.  It's something that I tend to keep to myself, so writing this post is monumental for me.  With the pop-culture examples like the story of Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest and the fictional but true-to-life tale in Blue Sky, disclosing Bipolar Disorder to the general public is met with discrimination and even fear.  Telling most people that you're a PARENT and Bipolar, though, is met with judgement and assumed abuse.

That is absolutely not the case in many (if not most,) families with a Bipolar parent.

See, we're no different from a mother with PPD or a father with PTSD.  We go to counseling, we make decisions in conjunction with our physicians on which therapeutic pharmaceuticals to take, and we manage our lives so that outside stressors and triggers are avoided.  If anything, parents with BPD are MORE careful in how well their disease is managed.  We are, afterall, parents.  It is not our disease that defines us in most cases; it's our children and our desire to be functional members of society just like everyone else.  Our disease is simply a speed bump that must be navigated around.

Now, that's not to say it isn't difficult sometimes.  As with any long-term disease, certain treatments may cease to work to their fullest.  Physicians and therapists will occasionally move or close their practices.  Outside stressors and triggers can't always be avoided.  In those situations, it's crucial to have a support system in place such as an understanding partner, supportive family, and a friend or two that is close enough to be trusted with watching our children for an emergency doctor's appointment or a late-night phone call for a sanity check.

A common myth is that a woman who gets pregnant - either by choice or by mistake - is automatically putting her fetus at risk by taking dangerous drugs that will cause terrible deformities.  This is exactly that: a MYTH.  I will not discuss specific medications in this blog because I am not a licensed pharmacist or physician, but there are multiple psychotropic medications approved for the management of BPD that are also considered relatively safe for use during pregnancy.

Another myth: mothers with BPD cannot breastfeed due to the medication they're taking.  Wrong again!  See above for the debunking of this myth.

Myth 3:  BPD is genetic and any person who reproduces is automatically sentencing their child to a life of misery and insanity.  Incorrect!  While yes, genetics do play a role in BPD, it is not a guarantee that the offspring of parents with BPD will end up with a positive diagnosis later in life.


Myth 4:  Parents with BPD are incapable of being responsible enough to take care of children properly, or they are child abusers.  This is probably the myth that bothers me the most.  Being Bipolar does not automatically make one a bad parent!  It is my experience that those of us with BPD are *MORE* attentive to our children, even OVER attentive, and due in part to that myth exactly!  BPD is no more an indicator of how fit a person is to parent than Diabetes or Asthma or Allergies is.  Joan Crawford is NOT the norm, here, people!

There is a wonderful web resource for friends, family, and those afflicted with BPD called Bipolar Lives if anyone has more questions or would like to research the condition more.  Please - educate yourselves!  Help debunk the popular and incorrect opinions that run rampant in our society today.  Most importantly, remember that even those of us parents with BPD are people, too.