Ok now when I got out most of my aggressions ;) in the last post I would like to add some things.
Maybe there isn't any exceptions to the behaviour I was describing, maybe those were the exceptions to the general behaviour....?
And now when I've been thinking about it....maybe it's much more about how the Swedish guys sometimes act that annoys me, more than just any Swede.
Hmmmm...
And just as a disclaimer so not the wrong people get offended, I also met very nice Swedish people during Midsummer =)
23 June, 2008
Swedish Sweden
This weekend that just passed was the Swedish holiday Midsummer. If you haven't encountered it before here's a short description:
We make a big phallic symbol out of grass, which we raise into the the ground. Then we dance like frogs around it. This is a family event, we bring food and have a picnic. It's also an excuse to get drunk. (We always need one.)
A thought about being a Swede, and being amongst them, at parties:
I haven't been living in Sweden for about five years. So I'm slowly starting to forget certain things... like why was it that I didn't like big crowds of Swedes again?? I was actually looking forward to Midsummer this year, to see some countrymen, yay.
The picnic was really nice in the evening sun in Battery Park. Lots and lots of Swedish people on blankets, eating, drinking, talking.
We got invited to some house party after this.
Sure, friends of my friends, must be fun!
So there we were, in this nice apartment with mostly Swedish people.
Then it slowly came back to me....how Swedes can be....
I'm aware that I'm being very general here, feel free to object.
I'm sure they all are very nice people....but when together they fall back into Swedish behaviour. It's hard to explain but...I'll try.
They stand in clicks. Talking to those they already know.
I don't really get the point of throwing a party if you are totally uninterested in getting to know new people.
You try to talk to the Swedes, and they shrug their shoulders without a smile.
It could be shyness. This is a common excuse. So then to make up for this shyness....you don't really want to admit that you have this Swedish characteristic, do you, you have to act like it's really because you're so...cool?
Ok to give you an example: They had a pool table. Some guys started playing pool, and did most of the night. My friend wanted to join. That didn't seem like a good idea. They said...hmmm...I dunno...Are you any good then?
It's a party.
Where people are suppose to have fun. (I thought)
Does it really matter if you're good or not??
This is just small things but all together it becomes a pattern of behaviour that I recognize to well from Sweden.
Sometimes, I remember back from Sweden, there were sometimes almost an obsession with not getting across new people. If I would throw a birthday party I could get comments like: No, you can't invite those people to the same party, they hang out in different crowds!
I just love to talk to new people...and so does most of the Swedes I know too. But that's when you meet them one on one. Or in a different enviroment. But together in a group under very Swedish circumstances...well let's just say, it wouldn't be my favourite place to bring my american friends, or any non-Swedish friend, I'm worried they would feel very lonely.
Of course, there are always exceptions!! As well as at the party I was at. But generally, it's a pattern of different social codes, wich even the nicest people fall into. So do I. Sadly. But I'm trying to be aware so I could choose how I want to behave more. Not just being raised by the surrounding expectations, which can also be good to a certain extent.
We make a big phallic symbol out of grass, which we raise into the the ground. Then we dance like frogs around it. This is a family event, we bring food and have a picnic. It's also an excuse to get drunk. (We always need one.)
A thought about being a Swede, and being amongst them, at parties:
I haven't been living in Sweden for about five years. So I'm slowly starting to forget certain things... like why was it that I didn't like big crowds of Swedes again?? I was actually looking forward to Midsummer this year, to see some countrymen, yay.
The picnic was really nice in the evening sun in Battery Park. Lots and lots of Swedish people on blankets, eating, drinking, talking.
We got invited to some house party after this.
Sure, friends of my friends, must be fun!
So there we were, in this nice apartment with mostly Swedish people.
Then it slowly came back to me....how Swedes can be....
I'm aware that I'm being very general here, feel free to object.
I'm sure they all are very nice people....but when together they fall back into Swedish behaviour. It's hard to explain but...I'll try.
They stand in clicks. Talking to those they already know.
I don't really get the point of throwing a party if you are totally uninterested in getting to know new people.
You try to talk to the Swedes, and they shrug their shoulders without a smile.
It could be shyness. This is a common excuse. So then to make up for this shyness....you don't really want to admit that you have this Swedish characteristic, do you, you have to act like it's really because you're so...cool?
Ok to give you an example: They had a pool table. Some guys started playing pool, and did most of the night. My friend wanted to join. That didn't seem like a good idea. They said...hmmm...I dunno...Are you any good then?
It's a party.
Where people are suppose to have fun. (I thought)
Does it really matter if you're good or not??
This is just small things but all together it becomes a pattern of behaviour that I recognize to well from Sweden.
Sometimes, I remember back from Sweden, there were sometimes almost an obsession with not getting across new people. If I would throw a birthday party I could get comments like: No, you can't invite those people to the same party, they hang out in different crowds!
I just love to talk to new people...and so does most of the Swedes I know too. But that's when you meet them one on one. Or in a different enviroment. But together in a group under very Swedish circumstances...well let's just say, it wouldn't be my favourite place to bring my american friends, or any non-Swedish friend, I'm worried they would feel very lonely.
Of course, there are always exceptions!! As well as at the party I was at. But generally, it's a pattern of different social codes, wich even the nicest people fall into. So do I. Sadly. But I'm trying to be aware so I could choose how I want to behave more. Not just being raised by the surrounding expectations, which can also be good to a certain extent.
Forest hand
Forest HandFound a photo that I took a few years ago. Noticing a theme. Hands seem to fascinate me so.
16 June, 2008
To grow up...
When I was a kid, around 4-5 years old, I wanted to spell my name. With a red crayon in my hand I started to write the letters down, but since this was a new world to me I wanted to check with my mum.
So: O-F-I-A right?
My mum nicely reminded me about the S.
No, no, no I explained, I wanted to wright MY name!
O, f, i, a.
Yes but my name started with an S she explained.
After some discussion it hit me. The world as I viewed it changed forever.
I was shocked. Insulted. Offended.
My mum, my very own mum, had given me a name that started with a letter I couldn't pronounce!
My name wasn't Ofia, it was Sofia!
That's just disturbing: I had to go through life with a name I couldn't pronounce! How could my own mum be so mean??
The reason I remember this might not be the shock (even if it was tremendous...hmpfh...) but can maybe be that this occurrence slowly led to the realization that I would learn more and more and grow and get smarter and smarter. I guess this hadn't really been of importance to me before.
And during the last few years I've slowly come to another of these world revolving realizations.
When I was 4 or 5 I came to terms with that my name was Sofia, I learned to even love that S in the beginning of my name, I learned to pronounce it pretty quickly, and I also realized that I would be like my mum one day: I would grow up, I would be an adult one day, I would learn more, I would know as much as she does.
And here I am. I'm grown up. I'm an adult. I've learned a lot. But here comes the sad realization: I will never be as smart as my mum!
I kind of waited for that day to happen. But it never will! She is and will always be the smartest woman I know! Smart as a mum, as a friend and as constant proofreader and thinker.
So ever since that day as a kid when I realized my disillusion I just replaced it with another one. Huh. Kind of sucks doesn't it?
So: O-F-I-A right?
My mum nicely reminded me about the S.
No, no, no I explained, I wanted to wright MY name!
O, f, i, a.
Yes but my name started with an S she explained.
After some discussion it hit me. The world as I viewed it changed forever.
I was shocked. Insulted. Offended.
My mum, my very own mum, had given me a name that started with a letter I couldn't pronounce!
My name wasn't Ofia, it was Sofia!
That's just disturbing: I had to go through life with a name I couldn't pronounce! How could my own mum be so mean??
The reason I remember this might not be the shock (even if it was tremendous...hmpfh...) but can maybe be that this occurrence slowly led to the realization that I would learn more and more and grow and get smarter and smarter. I guess this hadn't really been of importance to me before.
And during the last few years I've slowly come to another of these world revolving realizations.
When I was 4 or 5 I came to terms with that my name was Sofia, I learned to even love that S in the beginning of my name, I learned to pronounce it pretty quickly, and I also realized that I would be like my mum one day: I would grow up, I would be an adult one day, I would learn more, I would know as much as she does.
And here I am. I'm grown up. I'm an adult. I've learned a lot. But here comes the sad realization: I will never be as smart as my mum!
I kind of waited for that day to happen. But it never will! She is and will always be the smartest woman I know! Smart as a mum, as a friend and as constant proofreader and thinker.
So ever since that day as a kid when I realized my disillusion I just replaced it with another one. Huh. Kind of sucks doesn't it?
Flashback...
I suddenly had a flashback and I don't really know if this is the right place to share this but why not? =)
I remembered how mean the boys could be. The meanest of them all (to me) weren't the boys in school that were harassing the girls. (Literally sexually harassing, and the teachers refused to listen, but that my friends is a different story.)
What I remember is how mean the guys who wanted something were. Really what they wanted I never really could figure out, because God forbid they would tell, but I've done my guesses. Maybe they fell in love, maybe they just wanted you to fall in love with them, maybe they just wanted a moment of attention. That far it's all really innocent and maybe even cute. What bothers me is what happens next. When they don't get that attention. No reaffirmation. No admiring. Then all of the sudden the nasty words and stories got spread like the winter flu. From mouth to mouth, those harsh words and stories. Silent treating or name calling. Maybe sometimes exaggerations but mostly straight out lies. That everybody wanted to believe, because the one to question would receive the same treatment.
When you sometimes started to get close to someone. Believing you're finding a friend. You got disappointed when they told you, or showed you, this wasn't enough. The disappointment wouldn't end there but escalate for every story you heard trying to attempt to damage your name and your person.
And the girls weren't much better themselves. Believing what they heard or pretending so to gain approval. Maybe using them to get what they themselves desired. Well all is fair in love and war as they say. And the line between love and war is often fine in that age.
If I would ever to complain about the way things went down...well, I usually couldn't. Because most of my so called friends saw this as something I should be flattered by, since I obviously wanted attention so much. (Why would I otherwise have done such a thing as TALKING to a GUY?) So trying to defend myself was bragging. If it all had started with someone showing interest in me I should be grateful. It seemed like the general opinion was that if you got that, it was worth whatever aftermath it might have. And if I ever tried to tell my version of what had happened it was obvious that since I cared so much it must have been me that was in love with the guy and not the other way around.
Well now afterwards when I'm older and I know the stories can't touch me I look back at this time nostalgically. A life so filled with drama explains why I never was too much into watching any tv-series. ;)
The times have changed. The girls are now women and good friends. But every once in a while I still meet so called men behaving exactly by the same pattern as those boys from long ago.
To me friendship have always been the most precious thing. If you're not ready for that you're not ready for any kind of relationship.
(Hmmm...If men treated women as humans and not as objects I don't think this would be much of a problem. )
You might get disappointed when somebody you like more than just as a friend don't want the same as you do, and it's ok to be disappointed...but how much do you really like a person if you are ready to punish them for not liking you exactly the way you want them to?
As I see it, the most attractive characteristic is being able to be a good friend. Even if you want something more and it doesn't happen at once, it's a good place to start. It might never happen but do you lose something in gaining an extra friend?
Anyways I'd prefer that than to gaining an enemy...which you are if you are telling lies and stories about someone just because they didn't want the same as you.
I remembered how mean the boys could be. The meanest of them all (to me) weren't the boys in school that were harassing the girls. (Literally sexually harassing, and the teachers refused to listen, but that my friends is a different story.)
What I remember is how mean the guys who wanted something were. Really what they wanted I never really could figure out, because God forbid they would tell, but I've done my guesses. Maybe they fell in love, maybe they just wanted you to fall in love with them, maybe they just wanted a moment of attention. That far it's all really innocent and maybe even cute. What bothers me is what happens next. When they don't get that attention. No reaffirmation. No admiring. Then all of the sudden the nasty words and stories got spread like the winter flu. From mouth to mouth, those harsh words and stories. Silent treating or name calling. Maybe sometimes exaggerations but mostly straight out lies. That everybody wanted to believe, because the one to question would receive the same treatment.
When you sometimes started to get close to someone. Believing you're finding a friend. You got disappointed when they told you, or showed you, this wasn't enough. The disappointment wouldn't end there but escalate for every story you heard trying to attempt to damage your name and your person.
And the girls weren't much better themselves. Believing what they heard or pretending so to gain approval. Maybe using them to get what they themselves desired. Well all is fair in love and war as they say. And the line between love and war is often fine in that age.
If I would ever to complain about the way things went down...well, I usually couldn't. Because most of my so called friends saw this as something I should be flattered by, since I obviously wanted attention so much. (Why would I otherwise have done such a thing as TALKING to a GUY?) So trying to defend myself was bragging. If it all had started with someone showing interest in me I should be grateful. It seemed like the general opinion was that if you got that, it was worth whatever aftermath it might have. And if I ever tried to tell my version of what had happened it was obvious that since I cared so much it must have been me that was in love with the guy and not the other way around.
Well now afterwards when I'm older and I know the stories can't touch me I look back at this time nostalgically. A life so filled with drama explains why I never was too much into watching any tv-series. ;)
The times have changed. The girls are now women and good friends. But every once in a while I still meet so called men behaving exactly by the same pattern as those boys from long ago.
To me friendship have always been the most precious thing. If you're not ready for that you're not ready for any kind of relationship.
(Hmmm...If men treated women as humans and not as objects I don't think this would be much of a problem. )
You might get disappointed when somebody you like more than just as a friend don't want the same as you do, and it's ok to be disappointed...but how much do you really like a person if you are ready to punish them for not liking you exactly the way you want them to?
As I see it, the most attractive characteristic is being able to be a good friend. Even if you want something more and it doesn't happen at once, it's a good place to start. It might never happen but do you lose something in gaining an extra friend?
Anyways I'd prefer that than to gaining an enemy...which you are if you are telling lies and stories about someone just because they didn't want the same as you.
15 June, 2008
Tired tired thought
How bad can a pair of legs look? Time to stop the complexes and realize that if I don't crawl out of my jeans and put on the short skirt I'm gonna be sick from overheating. So I do and the pervs eyes me from top to toe, toe to top, I feel naked and uncomfortable. I'm not an object and I now know that my legs, or any other part of my body, is not for anyone to judge. Not even me, it's just my body, what makes me alive, not an object to judge by look. It's my tool, my instrument as a dancer and should be appreciated as such.
We all got complexes and we all got over exaggerated thoughts over how important our personal ugliness is but matter of fact is that almost nobody cares but ourselves. We all want to feel beautiful, and all we can do is to make the best out of what we got, and that should be enough to make us feel satisfied and relaxed.
We all got complexes and we all got over exaggerated thoughts over how important our personal ugliness is but matter of fact is that almost nobody cares but ourselves. We all want to feel beautiful, and all we can do is to make the best out of what we got, and that should be enough to make us feel satisfied and relaxed.
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