On Divorce and Drinking

On BBC Breakfast this morning was an item about "alternative parenting". Today's society is made up of families that are very different from the "nuclear" family of mum, dad and kids that we were all taught about. This is not necessarily to do with "broken Britain", but in the rise of acceptance of unconventional families such gay families adopting or using surrogates. BBC Breakfast used the example of a gay actor and his single, straight, female friend having kids by IVF.

Families are often complex units, regardless of whether or not it consist of two straight people of opposite genders. Families can be fantastic and amazing, and sometimes terrible and destructive.

I am very lucky to have the family that I have. I knew all my grandparents growing up, and even some  great-grandparents, as well as great-aunts and -uncles. For ease of distinguishing between them, they would be named after things that we were familiar with when visiting them. Great-Nanny Lift used to live in a block of flats - and we'd have to take the lift to see her. Great-Nanny Collar wore a foam collar for as long as I can remember.

Granny and Grandad Ponds had a pond in the garden (which I fell into one time when they were looking after me - I had to return home in Granny's bloomers....) And Nana and Grandad Cats, well, they had cats.

I am lucky that I have never really fallen out with any of my family. I had a dislike for one of my relatives because he took me hostage in a wheelbarrow and went whizzng round his garden with me unable to get out. I wasn't impressed, and disliked him for many years. I was even rude to him on the day of his mother's funeral. But I was young, and I hadn't actually realised she was his mother too, she was just my Nan's mum, my great-nan. When you are young, it can be hard to work out who belongs to what side of the family, and why they are your aunt or uncle. I don't really have a massive family, but it's big enough that I still don't know who cousin Wendy really is. I think I went to her wedding though.

With the divorce, one of the things I've been trying to get my head round is that my family will no long be "a family". I'll no longer belong to a nuclear unit where the mum and dad love each other and love their kids and we have a nice house together with a garden and maybe a pet.

No. That's it, it's split, it won't recover... 

I'm reminded of driving to and from Derby and hearing several times a radio advertisement for a relationship counselling organisation. "If your relationship is breaking down, talk to a professional about what to do next." or something like that. I'd never heard one of these adverts before, and I wondered whether it was just because Derby had a higher rate of relationship breakdown (I can't find anything indicating that this is true), or it was just a sign of the changing times and "broken Britain". Or maybe just because the company had some money for advertising.

But even when we live in different houses I will still have a family, for which I should be very grateful. We will still be us, just in different locations.

My sister said to me on holiday that if we weren't sisters, we wouldn't be friends, because we are so different. This was evident when I started singing Taylor Swift's new song and my sister said how stupid and bad a song it was. But we are sisters. We are family. And I love my family.

**

There's currently a public consultation on divorce settlements and how judges hearing divorce cases should be prepped - see the BBC article here. Having seen how difficult is has been with my parents divorce to remain amicable throughout negotation about assets and support, anything that can make the divorce process clearer, easier and potentially less painful, is always good in my book.

**

On Monday night I watched a Panorama about the drinking epidemic facing the over-65s. Their varying stories were sad and troubling. 

My parents drink. My mum has recently quit drinking, and whilst I feel, well, slighty displeased about her reasons, I am still glad for her sake that she has quit.

My dad on the other hand, has not quit. He is 58 this December, so well on his way to retirement and that over-65 age group. I don't think my dad will ever quit drinking. His lips and gums are constantly stained purple, his teeth are yellow and black. I worry all the time about his health. When I asked him if he ever worried, he said "sometimes". Sometimes I think about something happening that will wake him up to the damage he's done and doing to himself.

What are his reasons for drinking? He started drinking wine because he was told his high cholesterol meant he could no longer drink beer. And red wine is meant to be good for you. Maybe a glass every now and again is good for your heart, but my dad regularly drinks a bottle or two a day. 

I hope that when he retires he doesn't start drinking more. I think that he drinks because work stresses him out and he wants to relax when he gets home and at the weekends. So in theory he'll drink less when if he has less stress. But then, when he retires, he has no hobbies except Sudoku and Freecell. Does that mean that he'll drink more as boredom sets in?

Preoccupation with surnames... and Christmas

One comment I remember from the hospital filming on Saturday was that the baby was labeled with mum's surname, which was different to dad's surname. This was in case of emergency they said, so they could match mum & baby up without a problem. "It's easier when you're married", said the midwife.

There is, it seems, a preoccupation with surnames. With having the same surname as your partner, or as your child.
Like a lot of opinionated people, I sometimes find it hard to take on board someone else's feelings about a subject, especially when it's one I feel so strongly about.
And surnames is one I feel strongly about.

A few weeks back I had a debate with my friend about surnames, and women taking their husband's surname when they get married. I've just gone through the legal process of changing my surname from Smith to Smith-Bodie, and the question I got asked most often when telling administrators my new name was along the lines of "So did you get married then?" This was exactly the way my doctor put it, but others simply asked Was I still 'Miss' or Is that 'Mrs' now? In fact I got it today, at work - could I bring in a marriage certificate or deed poll certificate. Well I can bring in my deed poll certificate...
Whilst it's great that people are aware that some women add their husband's surname to their maiden name, I don't see why women should have to change their name at all.

My friend said some women just wanted to have the same name as their husband and just because I didn't think that was right didn't mean these women are idiots.

But they must be idiots if only for the one simple reason that changing your name IS NOT EASY. Or cheap!
£43 for my Deed Poll certificates & fee.
£89 for a new passport.
I haven't done my drivers license yet, but that'll be what, another £20.

And the forms you have to fill in seem pointless, and the long list of people you need to tell seems never ending.
HMRC. Banks (I have accounts with 4 banks...) Doctor. Dentist. Optician.
Oyster Card. Mobile phone provider. Amazon. Ebay. Paypal (who want photocopies of your new Passport & Deed poll certificate...)

When I move house, I'll have to do it all over again, too.


Changing my name was for me, an identity thing. I was born a Smith. Christened a Smith.
But I am so close to my maternal grandparents that it seemed crazy that I wasn't a Bodie too. And with my parents divorcing, I don't know if my mum will revert to her maiden name, but she won't technically be a Smith anymore.

I guess, in the same way, taking your husband's name is the same sort of thing, for your identity. Creating a new identity for yourself. But to me it seems like it's taking your identity away. I look at my name change as an evolution of my identity. I'm still a Smith, I'm just a Bodie too now, officially, on paper. I see taking your husband's name as a loss of identity. It's your name, why should that be taken away from you?

(And let's face it - 1 in 3 marriages ends in divorce right, so why bother changing your name if you might be that 1 in 3?)

I came across this blog post whilst looking up about this subject, and it includes this quote:

To name oneself is the first act of both the poet and the revolutionary. When we take away the right to an individual name, we symbolically take away the right to be an individual. Immigration officials did this to refugees; husbands routinely do it to wives - Erica Jong.

My name is who I am. I do not want to get married, so I will never be faced with this dilemma. But I am imploring women not to give up their names just because it seems like standard practice, or because they think you'll look less committed if you don't, or because they worry their children will be disaffected by having parents with different surnames. Just give your children double-barrelled surnames, duh. Double-barrelled surnames are, like, so cool.

**

In a quick aside, my friend is going to a pub in Redhill tonight for their Christmas stalls. Yes, that's right Christmas stalls. It is September. My mum text me this picture the other day or Christmas chocolate calendars or whatever they are called that she saw in the shops.

Let me reiterate - It. Is. September. 

Are we all so desperately lacking in our lives that we need 4 months to prepare for one day of the year that costs too much and makes lots of people fatter and is essentially the epitomy of our consumerist society?

This year for Christmas, I have bought everybody charity gifts. And then when I get back from Trek America, I'll buy some chocolate coins to go with them.

I've only bought everybody's presents already because I like to be organised. Not because, I'm like, SUPER EXCITED FOR XMAS OMG!

I haven't liked Christmas for years, partly due to resenting the fact that shops fill with fake cheer and consumerist tat, mostly due to the way my mother gets miserable and drunk every Christmas because we don't care and her grandad died at Christmas.

Now I don't have a "nuclear" family, Christmas is going to be even more awkward. This year will be the first year I wake up in a home with only one of my parents.

I think birthdays are the special occasion you should make an effort with presents. Not Christmas. Christmas is Jesus' birthday, not mine. Or yours. Unless you are Jesus. I'm sure as hell not.

**

Lastly, in an even quicker aside, this morning I discovered is not easy to drive whilst having a nosebleed. Whilst it's hard enough to drive into London on a Monday morning, doing it whilst blood drips down onto your bare chest and stains your lovely magenta vest top, could result in disaster.

Good thing I'm an excellent driver then.

HA.

I'll let you know if the top survives...

The Search for Spock...

The best thing about my job is that I get to learn about new things. For example, the Eurozone, British Transport Police, Saudi Arabia.  The worst thing about this job is focusing on a topic that really hits home with you and you can't seem to do anything about it.
The representation of women in the media has forever plagued me, but researching the topic of beauty and the media for my job has opened my eyes. I'm not alone in my opinion. In fact there are people out there who have even stronger views than I do, and are calling for change.
This includes people such as Kat Fridkis, at Eat the Damn Cake, who is a delight to speak to and learn from.

But this has made me decide that I need to do more to help other women and spread the word to challenge the way we are advertised to, and used in advertising. The problem is that the beauty and fashion industries are convinced that products only sell when thin and beautiful women advertise them. The fact is EVERYONE is beautiful in their own way, and I would be more likely to buy a product if it was advertised by "ordinary" women (the Dove adverts are a case in point, but while they do some great work - Onslaught video, Self Esteem fund - they are a flawed case in point - "real women have real curves" - what about the women who don't have curves?!).
What I'm also finding is that alot of the anger directed at how the media represents women is tied inextricably with feminism. I have always classed myself as feminist, but a passive feminist, if there is such a thing. I refuse to marry, I will not have kids. But I don't actively preach (is preach the right word?) about the issues feminist are fighting for. Perhaps because I don't actually know... Are there really the men-hating feminists? Is dressing slutty a feminist statement? What about sleeping around?

Almost 5 months ago, my mum made the most feminist move of her life - she asked for a divorce. And putting aside the anger and the hurt that this action (an agreement from my father) has caused, my mum became a feminist in deciding that she wasn't going to put up with my dad's dirty washing on the bedroom floor anymore. She didn't want to pick up after him, or make him dinner. Go mum!
But then she got false nails. She's had her eyebrows dyed and her moustache bleached. And I don't see how those actions could free her from the oppressor that is my father and her boring marriage.

I want to be feminist. But does being feminist mean using my looks to get me power? Or does it mean working so hard and making sure my looks don't count? Does it mean working inside the system to get to the top to make a difference, or fighting it every step of the way?

I'm becoming more aware, and more accepting of myself as a woman, and as a result, I believe I will be more aware and accepting of myself as a person. I hope for a day when my self-esteem does not plummet just because I get a new spot on my chin. I'm just hoping that my other obstacle, the headache obstacle, doesn't hold me back.