In-Laws Rant

I'm annoyed. Yes, annoyed. Why you might ask? By my in-laws saying that I am not a Christian Lady... again. I come from an entirely different culture than they do. They are from the really conservative, right-wing baptist community that only values things that happen in their church (and all other churches are wrong, fyi), they don't believe in dancing, drinking, music that doesn't talk about loving Jesus, shows that might be a little too edgy and going to the movies: that's a product of the devil. I am from the Military Community. I grew up raised around Soldiers and Airmen who swore, drank, danced, used weapons on a regular basis, fished, hunted, smoked and alot of other "un-Christian" things. Things I do also. I swear, alot. I drink wine occasionally. I love to dance. I love music of all flavors. I love to watch shows about Vampires and fake worlds. And I love movies. I love to joke around and be inappropriate with my friends because they are my friends and we love to have fun.

So why is this bothering me tonight? Well, it shouldn't really but my husband spoke to his mother last week and it's been in my head. Let me point this out: She never calls me, never asks to speak to me when my husband calls her, never thanks me for what I clearly do for her (like I'm the one who sent her the Anniversary card for her and my father-in-law's 43rd). She acts like she's morally superior to me, even though I'm catholic and believe that I'm on the right path to Heaven for me. (I don't care what you believe, because I believe there are many paths to Heaven and I'm on mine, you are on yours.) And worse yet, she thinks the Bible explains everything. Well, this is the Military and the Bible doesn't cover it, not really. We don't have answers to the problems we face, the scriptures don't hold the keys to every possible situation. It bothers me alot that she thinks I should only find answers in a Book written 2000 years ago.

I do like the Bible. I love the stories inside and I think it's a wonderful book full of stories that teach lessons, but I don't think it covers all the choices life gives. I don't think we could possibly have all the answers for everything.

My in-laws not liking me hurts alot, considering I have no parents anymore. I have friend's parents who love me, who treat me like a member of their family. I have aunts that treat me like a daughter and I have ex-boyfriend's parents that still call me to chat from time to time. So the fact that my own mother-in-law doesn't like me and decides that judging me is better than getting to know me for me, hurts like hell. It's the reason we won't visit over holidays, over Sundays, for too long. The fact is that my husband isn't who they think he is either and he would rather not see me hurt by them. It does hurt too. I'm not the kind of person who gets hurt so easily but I wished for a set of in-laws that would take me under their wing as a daughter, instead I got in-laws who treat me like I'm damaged and cursed.

How am I supposed to deal with that? I send them cards randomly, I send them books that I think they'd enjoy (like Bible Trivia) and I try to keep them updated with pictures of their son and many other things, but do they ever acknowledge a single thing I do? No. Do they ever thank me? No, they thank their son, who if he had to remember the dates for important things, wouldn't. I remind him of Birthdays and Anniversaries. I remind him how old they are, how many years they've been married. And I just married into the family. I am the one who puts forth all the effort only to be judged for things that shouldn't matter.

Your beliefs don't make you a better person, your behavior does. And if we judge them on that, they are totally failing. 

Anyways, that's my rant for the day... I'm sad about it and it makes me miss my Dad even more. He was my hero and my white knight. I never thought I'd be so alone and I never thought I'd need his advice on how to deal with in-laws that don't like you, but I do... and I don't know what to do about it.

Don't wear his rank

I love my husband. When I met him, I remember thinking "I can't fall for this guy. He might be perfect but he's an officer and he's about to deploy in a few months." You see, I'm an enlisted man's daughter, who grew up with rank segregation. I knew that officers were uptight and high strung. I knew that as someone who had grown up enlisted that I would always have a problem with that attitude.

Already I had a wife of a 1LT give me the officer's wife rundown. I was shocked and appauled considering how I don't only care about my husband's career enough to have a public face around his co-workers and superiors but I care enough not do have fun the way I used to, before I became his wife. I never want to be the officer's wife who has a stick up her butt, who acts like her husband is better than everyone else, who thinks she's better than other wives because of her husband's rank. Because she's not. He's not. I respect everyone but I know for a fact that no one, no matter the rank, is any better than anyone else.

I am a TSgt's daughter, first and foremost. I have enlisted friends, I have enlisted brothers. I married an officer but it wasn't because of his rank or even that he was in the Army (although, for me, it was a plus). I love my husband for the man he is, the fact that he's an officer, well, it almost turned me off to who he is completely because I've only ever met a few officers before him that I liked enough to even be friends with, and never met one I wanted to be with in a romantic sense. He changed my mind about that. Partially because when he told me he was enlisted first, I thought well, he's got to be smarter than the normal officer. And it turned out he was smarter, funnier, more down to earth.

We don't like hanging out with other officers. My friends here are enlisted and although, we do know a few nice and good officers, we aren't very social with them. We like to stick around the house, hanging as a family, keeping our complaints about this and that to ourselves.

When I got the officer wife rundown, I came home and told my husband. He works with hers (they shall both remain nameless because I'm not out to start drama) and he told me it doesn't matter because what she said wasn't true. I do what I'm responsible for, showing up at functions and being part of the FRG, helping the other wives, being nice and realizing that I do represent him. So I'm a little bit more honest and blunt than most, so I'm a little more wild and free naturally. So I dye my hair bright red and wear jeans and cowboy boots with tshirts, so I am an artist and not a normal "officer's wife" that's ok with me. And, even more importantly, that's ok with my husband.

He married me knowing just about everything about me. My flaws and faults and what I could bring into our relationship. He knew that I would be a good mother with enough history to know what I was responsible for as his wife. He knew I could cook and he knew I could make him look good at certain times. I do things for him because I love him. I represent him at different functions because that's what I'm supposed to do. And he knew the rest, the fact that I swear more than most girls, the fact that I'm more comfortable with a firearm in my hands in the woods than I am with a bunch of ladies discussing how to decorate an Army function. He knows who I am absolutely and I don't hide that from him.

So having another wife, especially one that has less history than I do, tell me that I'm not representing him properly, when my husband has never once complained or even let on that he was unhappy with how I behaved or acted in front of his co-workers and superiors, lets me know that she spoke out of line and she judged me based on my hair, my clothes and my 'don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think' way that I walk and talk. I don't give a damn but when it comes to my husband, I do. I'm a damn good wife and a damn good mother. I can make it through the rough patches that a Military life undoubtedly has in store and I've been through the absolute worse as a daughter. I dress up nice, put a sweet smile on my face, and can hold a conversation with the Lt. Col. of our unit and then have a nice chat with one of the lower enlisted soldiers at the same time.

It doesn't really matter about rank, what matters to me is the person wearing the rank or the person who stands beside him/her. If someone is a Lt. Col and an asshole, I'm not going to talk to him/her much, but if his wife is sweet, doesn't wear his rank, acts like a proper Army wife and carries herself with dignity, then I will like her. If a Sgt's wife wears his rank and acts superior to those who are below her husband and their wives/husbands, well I'm going to dislike her. That's just the way it is.

The wife who gave me the rundown will probably never read this blog, because we aren't friends, but if she were to ever run across it. I would love to tell her that she's in the wrong and that her wearing his rank, acting like she earned it... well, she's acting far too superior for her own and her husband's good. I may not do anything to harm her family by complaining to my husband, but I'm sure I'm not the first wife she's talked to, which means I won't be the last. One day, she's eventually going to start something with someone else, who won't be as good about letting go.

To other wives who read this, and even the girlfriends, please know, that your husband or boyfriend's rank is his. You didn't earn it and you don't deserve to wear it or act like it's yours. You may have stood beside him and given him unconditional love and supported him and made sacrifices for him, but you agreed to that and you also agreed to help his career any way you could. And wearing his rank, well, to be honest, I've seen it hurt relationships and his career. You don't want to be that wife.

Anyways, I was just thinking about that today and I thought I'd share my thoughts on the matter.

Shhh... Don't Tell.

Serial killers and self-defense

I have become pretty addicted to Dexter, a show about a serial killer who hunts murderers and other serial killers. It's pretty awesome and has fed my one daydream of being a killer who kills murderers and child molesters and rapists, you know, the scum of the earth. I don't think I could kill an innocent person but someone who is stone-cold guilty, yea I think I could do that if I knew I wouldn't get caught.

It's the same reason I love the Boondock Saints movies so much. The idea of vigilante ways appeals to me but I'll probably never do anything about that. I have too much to lose, my family, friends, freedom. The big Fs. And I think that's what keeps me from seeing someone do something heinous and not lose my mind and find a way to make them pay for it, when our court systems fail us so many times.

If there was a killer out there who killed for the right reasons, I wouldn't want him caught. It would be good incentive for people not to step over that line, open that door and walk through into the darkness of humanity.

I day dream alot, about different things. But when I'm at a range, and picturing the target, in my stance, remembering the lessons I was taught regarding my weapon and the bullets inside, I picture the face of the latest child molester to pop up on my tv screen, or the latest corrupt cop who is using his gun and badge for things other than protecting the innocent... and I take a deep breath, steady my hands and aim through my target. I'm almost a perfect shot, fyi. For my next birthday, I'm getting my conceal permit and my dream gun, which is actually torn between two .45s.

I grew up using weapons and I like them. I know how to disarm an attacker with a knife. I know that if someone wants to take me somewhere else, to fight like hell because they probably want to make the kill slower, might as well go down fighting and have a chance of freedom. I know how to flip a man twice my weight and have him fall to the ground without using too much effort of my own. I know the weak spots on a person's body and the pressure points that will disable my attacker. I know these things because I was taught them. Some lessons were given to me by my father (once I sliced his hand open by disarming him with his Kabar). Some were taught by friends. Everyone saw me as a small, petite little thing, easy to overpower without the training, so I was taught. I was taught that my size makes me seem like the perfect victim, which I guess is good because I've had to use my training a time or two in my past, to get away from a bad situation before it got worse. Better me, than some girl who can't defend herself. My daughter will get that same training too.

I often wonder why more girls aren't taught self-defense. Why they aren't taught things like the ability to throw knives or shoot a weapon with better-than average accuracy. Why they aren't given that power of knowing they might be small but size doesn't matter as much as training and most attackers aren't trained. They are simply taking advantage of a situation that appears to give them the upper hand.

My advice to any women out there: get some type of self-defense training. Not kick boxing. Not karate but genuine, self-defense. Whether you learn how to kick a knee cap perfectly or body slam a man twice your size, that's all important. Women who get hurt, 9 times out of 10 don't have any type of training. They are weak, maybe  not by choice, but because they don't know how to protect themselves. And that really bugs me.

So for my next birthday, I'm getting my right to conceal a weapon and wear it when I'm unsure of my environment. The threat of a weapon is the only thing needed by most dirtbags to high tail it. I'm getting my dream gun that I will be trained in using. I will have my protection no matter what. Part of being who I am, growing up the way I did, makes me realize the benefit of firearms and I know the risks, but I also know this: that my children will grow up with a heavy respect for weapons, whether they be knives or pistols or rifles. And that's not only because their father is in the Army, but also because their mother has never touched a weapon that wasn't hers without permission and will teach them the proper way to shoot and the lessons that are involved. Lessons I might write later, when I have the time.

It's funny how a show about serial killers makes me think about my own protection, and those I love. I will be prepared for anything when it comes to my family and I will not rely on my husband to do it. Partially because I never know when he'll be gone and partially because I know I am capable.

Anyways, much love and please, ladies, listen to what I said. Get into self-defense class and kick ass. There is no reason any woman should be at the mercy of a man, ever.