…..a word which a lot of people use when they’re going to talk about something that might bring up traumatic memories for someone else. I was thinking about how some topics are “triggering” for me, but not in the sense that I have to turn away or can’t read. Rather, that I have to not comment, or at least think really hard before I do, because my feelings are so volatile that I’m liable to turn shrill and offend someone I care about.

Driving home today, I was idly making a mental list of these topics:

Homebirth. Specifically, the idea that hospitals are bad and homebirths are by default “natural” and “good”. I believed this at one point, and obviously, my son almost paid for my beliefs with his life. I don’t mind women giving birth at home, but I’d rather not talk about it; don’t ask me to comment on their choice, unless you actually want to see foam come out of my mouth. I admit, it’s a neat trick.

That women who bottle-feed are poisoning their babies. If you think that way, I’d advise you not to sit near me at a party and open your mouth. You’ll find yourself walking away without your teeth.

Guns. Ohhhhh, don’t get me started. For every story about a guy who killed a burglar (well thank God the stereo is still here!) I can find a dozen about a kid who took his parents’ gun and shot a hole through the wall, or his sister, or himself; or the hunters who shoot and kill hikers every year. I keep waiting for a convincing pro-gun argument, and I’ve yet to get one.

Historically thin women who worry incessantly about getting fat (not an occasional worry, but an obsessive terror of TEH FAT). The elephant in the room (so to speak) always feels like: what must you think of me? I’m about 30-40 pounds over my “ideal” weight. Do I disgust you?

Motorcycles. OOOOHHHHHHHHHH. Yeah. No. Just no. I took an EMT class, and the instructor was a 30-year veteran paramedic for the city of Seattle. His descriptions of motorcycle accidents were enough to turn me off pasta and marinara for life. He brazenly looked out at our classroom full of 19-year-old guys and said that if any of them rode a motorcycle, they were stupid, and that was all there was to it. Do you know what a human brain looks like, spread like a slick grey stripe down I90? He does. That brain belonged to someone, someone who probably had a family, had a job, people who loved and depended on them. I had to stop reading Livejournal for a few weeks, when someone I didn’t know (but who was dearly beloved by many of my friends) died after a motorcycle accident, and within that same week, another friend got into a motorcycle accident and actually broke his partner’s arm. It was one of those things where I had to just get up, put the laptop down, and go scream futilely into a pillow, because it is just not my place to tell anybody what to do, but watching them do it was literally making me pop an antacid every time I sat down to read. I wish I could just not hear about people I care about on their motorcycles – I wish there was a filter where I could tune it out. I worry about them too much.

That gays and lesbians shouldn’t be allowed to marry. I think they should. I think it’s ridiculous they can’t, and I’m almost ashamed to be married when my loved ones can’t in the same way. You want to know the funny part? The best conversation I ever had about this was with my Mom, a conservative person, whose religious beliefs shape her views on this. She and I don’t see precisely eye to eye on this, but we’re able to talk about it incredibly respectfully, and we’re both interested in the other person’s opinion. I find with people I don’t know, like those people at rallies holding up signs about “Family Values”, that I’m much less tolerant, which is a fault of my own character that I’m not proud of. It’s not like I’m going to stand there holding up a sign on the other side of the line that reads, “Oh yeah? Well my family values you not being a jerk, BUT TOO BAD FOR US,” but as I drive by….I’m probably fantasizing about it.

This was the list I came up with in the few minutes home from the store. I’m sure there are other things. I know we all have topics like this, things we try to talk reasonably about but that in our heart of hearts we just wish we could change, sweepingly, across the board, with our magic wands: I wish all hospitals could treat birth like a natural event and not like an illness so that women could birth in an emotionally supportive environment that was also safe, rather than feel like they had to leave safety behind completely; I wish women would get over the effing boob issue already and stop beating on mothers who for whatever reason, choose to use an alternative; I wish nobody felt like they needed to own a gun, let alone felt like everyone should own one; I wish thin women would just be grateful for what they have; I wish that everyone wanting a motorcycle had to talk to a paramedic and were required to provide both an up to date will and a positive organ donation status before they were licensed; and I wish that people would just stay the hell out of other people’s business, and recognize that love and commitment doesn’t require a penis and a vagina.

There isn’t a magic wand though, is there? There’s just all of us, all of us imperfect and occasionally angry people who have to all live in the world together. I think it’s useful to take a look at what triggers us, because it means we’re less likely to get taken by surprise, we’re less likely to stick our foot in our mouths around someone whose opinion we may not share but whose character and worth as a person we think very highly of. It’s important to include that part when talking about subjects close to the heart with people we care about. As precious as your feelings are to you, they’re just that precious to someone else. We hold tight to different sides of the same issues. We should acknowledge our strong feelings, but still try to loosen their grip once in awhile.

Tagged as: babyfeeding, birth, body size, motorcycles, queer

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