As someone who’s studying psychology and has been interested in the psychology and physiology of sleep, I’m always thinking about how sleep affects the mind and body. This summer after reading up on sleep, I went out of my way to improve my sleep schedule as much as I could. I was consistently getting about 8 hours of sleep and waking up at a reasonable time. I was able to do this because I was living at home and I was totally on my own schedule. Going to sleep was something that I really looked forward to everyday. 

Moving back on campus, I found it really hard to sleep, simply due to the different environment. Something about the different beds and the blinds that don’t block the light keep me from getting good quality sleep. I also started a new job that required me to work at very late and early hours. These shifts would take time out of my schedule that I need for sleep, and when I did get to sleep it wasn’t the quality that I needed. Talking about the different ways that labor affects the body in class made me really consider if what I’m doing is worth it. 

On one hand, I really value my health and I usually try my best to make sure I’m doing healthy things. Losing sleep could lead to serious long and short term health issues. On the other hand, I also need money to do things that I enjoy and pay for things that I need. I want to be able to go out and eat with friends without cutting into my savings, but I also want to be awake and present while I’m doing it. 

Losing sleep from my job also might be affecting how well I’m able to learn in school. In all of my classes I often find myself fighting to stay awake. If I’m tired I don’t have as much capacity to pay attention, and if I’m not paying attention the memories from my classes won’t be as strong. Overall, it feels like a lose-lose situation.

There’s a callus on my elbow I hide all the time, I’m always wearing long sleeves or something that covers my upper arm because it makes me super self-conscious, since the skin is all dark and dry (no matter how much I moisturize and exfoliate). I noticed it one day after coming home from work, I was putting on my pajamas when my mom walked in and in the most aghast tone possible, she asked “What’s wrong with your arm?!” I looked at myself in the mirror and almost started bawling because I had a huge dark, scaly, dry callus on my elbow; I immediately freaked out “WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?! WHAT DO I DO!?” Now, I will always be honest and true to myself, so please respect my acknowledgment that I am EXTREMELY vain, this was a huge blow to my self-image, I’M SUPPOSED TO BE SMOOTH AND PINK AROUND THE EDGES; like a goddamn water-color painting (the unrealistic expectation of my appearance is a conversation for a different post)! After examining the area for a minute with my mom she came to the conclusion that I got it from work, from wearing long sleeves every day due to the dress code (scrubs and such) and the position I was sitting while at my desk taking calls (leaning on the chair arms to be closer to the phone), and that revelation was…super annoying. I do a lot to take care of myself and this job supplemented my habits…but now was it the cause for me to buy MORE self-care bullshit? And not only that, now I had something else I wanted to hide other than my dark circles, slight weight loss, and stress acne…. ALL FROM THE SAME SOURCE! That’s when I started to think “If anyone outside of work sees me, they better pretend they didn’t, this isn’t who I am” and remembering that thought process, we end up at this little post because why is it so often that we have to separate ourselves into something we’re not in order to achieve monetary gain?

        I think I have the patience of a protestant christian GOD, because the way I don’t hang up on every rude parent that calls the office, it’s actually astounding. For context, I work in the health care industry, so that means I’m in a strange in between of knowing how these people feel but also…I’m part of the WORST system in country. So, you’re lowkey screwed if you talk to me, BUT THAT’S NOT MY FAULT! It’s really hard being on the phone with so many upset parents who just want to help their kids, who resort to insulting me and my workplace, only for me to have to follow a script. I have to disconnect, I have to put my anger, sadness, compassion aside in order to get through hours’ worth of calls or else I’d be getting a lot of complaints. It’s especially hard to do this when I’m a super emotional person outside of work, I cry at everything and get really loud when I’m excited, but I got to hold my tongue and watch what I say when I’m talking to a Mama Bear on line 3. It’s kind of fucked up, I’m a not machine and I was hired for my “personality” according to my last employee evaluation, so why am I being forced to suppress myself this way? It’s such a redundant question because I know why things are this way, it’s a system that sucks the energy of the lesser in order to feed the people on top, capitalist vampires. I’ve sacrificed my emotional well-being, over-worked my physical capabilities, and all for what? So that I can go to a sale at Victoria Secret every once in a while, AND ONLY when there’s a sale?

      I don’t get enough for what I give, nobody ever does, because we’re at the bottom. We can be pushed around, sexually harassed, thrown out like yesterday’s news for whatever reason just because someone in power wants to! They don’t see you for who you are, they see you for what they can take from you, like a demon possessing a body. Here’s a little side tangent story, my mom works at a little grocery store for some extra money, and they recently had a new hire for management. She said he was a handsome young black man, very capable and super polite, he was really good at his job, and everyone liked him despite only just starting there. Well, he got fired the other day. You’re probably rolling your eyes thinking “of course he did” but hold on! Let me tell you why! My man got fired because he was filling up his water bottle…. yeah. Apparently, it was considered “robbery” and they kicked him to the curb. LITERALLY MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE?? IT WAS LITERALLY TAP WATER Y’ALL! My mom continued her story by saying she thinks the head manager (the dude who fired the young guy) didn’t like how much they were paying the new hire, so they decided to fire him for that arbitrary reason, just so they can hire someone else for less. That’s totally illegal, mind you, and the guy can definitely sue…but is it worth it? Would you go through the trouble? You’re probably making a face and thinking “I have enough on my plate, I’d just go somewhere else”, because honestly who has time for that nonsense? But getting back on topic, they didn’t see the guy for what he was worth or how he was improving the work environment, they saw numbers they didn’t like and did cut out what they thought the reason; even if it meant leaving this man without a source of income. Boils my blood, honestly.

         There really wasn’t much of a structure to this post, but labor takes away more than what’s humanly reasonable, than what’s humane. It doesn’t end once you clock out, you carry the burden with you for the rest of the day, you feel used up and tired, you look decayed and have scars on your skin; work just consumes people. There isn’t much else in life because of the cycle that’s been created in our society, you work day in and day out and a lot of people can’t afford the luxury of rest because it’s time that’s being wasted! Money, money, money. That’s all anyone ever needs today. That’s all we can receive because nothing else is substantial. Thank you, capitalism! Thank you, consumerism; you really know how to make a body happy. If you ever happen to see me at work, looking dead inside and ready to jump off the building, that isn’t me. That’s a shell of who I am, just pretend you didn’t see me, alright?

I’ve noticed a significant shift in recent times where many people of African descent are embracing and celebrating their African heritage. When I was younger, identifying as African was often met with negative stereotypes and misconceptions. People would associate Africa with huts, monkeys, and wildlife, and I’ll never forget the hurtful term “African booty scratcher,” which was used to devalue and ridicule Africans, likening them to monkeys.

Furthermore, there was a time when having dark skin was stigmatized, almost akin to the discrimination faced by people of color in the 1950s. In the past, women within my own community often favored lighter-skinned individuals, desiring men who resembled figures like Chris Brown. I recall my high school days when those of us with darker skin were mocked and made to feel inferior. Now, it’s astonishing how the tables have turned. Today, I can’t go to a club without receiving compliments on my skin or appearance, as dark skin is now considered a desirable trend.

In the world of music, artists like Burna Boy, Wizkid, and Davido have risen to prominence, with Afrobeat becoming a dominant force in 2023. These artists’ music is frequently played at clubs, reflecting the broader shift in cultural preferences.

Overall, it’s remarkable how perceptions have evolved. In the past, being African was met with fear and shame to the extent that some of us would even pretend to be Jamaican or Dominican to avoid the negative stereotypes. Today, many people are eager to engage with African culture, whether it’s through Afrobeat music, adopting accents, or showing an appreciation for dark-skinned individuals.

     I am a part of a 7v7 co-ed soccer league called Volo in Baltimore. This league was marketed as a social league and even invites you to go to the bar across the street after games with your team. My team had played multiple games together, and we had no real hierarchy up until the last game – it was pretty much just a free-for-all and we got to know each other well enough to have a good time. The last game was different though, as one of my teammates showed up with the idea that he would be “coach.” This changed everything. He decided the starting line up and everything was normal for the first few minutes of the game. 

     The shift happened a little later. It was about time for substitutions to be made. Usually we make subs quickly and by our own decisions. “Coach” decided that a few specific people were best to sub in, and so they did what he said and the others waited patiently on the sidelines. No one was making their own substitutions. Everyone was listening to “coach.” This continued throughout the first half. I was frustrated that he did not decide to tell me to substitute, so I went ahead and picked someone to substitute with. The game ended with some people not having played much at all. They whispered under their breath how annoyed they were.

     What I found interesting about this is that no one agreed that “coach” should make the decisions or call the shots. Yet everyone did as they were told because of what he called himself. The only reason I was able to break out of it and make my own substitution was because I realized in the moment that he had created a structure of power and we have all been conditioned to act accordingly when power commands us. By letting us know his new label as “coach,” and using his body to play the part, he gave himself permission to make the decisions and took that permission away from us. The team did not even notice how we were no longer allowing our bodies to move freely in the same space that we had just last game. It was truly fascinating.

An added outcome after ruminating on this experience:

     For some reason, this experience playing soccer and making my own substitution instead of waiting for someone to “let” me has also allowed me to start correcting people on my pronouns. I have never ever! ever! been able to do it until these past few weeks, and now I have done it twice. I think that it was very powerful for me to see the way power acted in this way, realize that it was nobody’s intention to take anything away from anyone else (“coach” never got mad at people for not doing what he expected), but still see everyone so paralyzed because of the way we have learned to act in response to power. In personal interactions when I am misgendered, there is a similar paralyzing feeling that I am not allowed or not supposed to correct someone, but really we are just two people and it is okay. I am glad to have learned this and continue to think a lot about what it means for me!

For those who are not familiar Olivia Rodrigo’s second album GUTS is about being a teenage woman, in that she is both infantilized, sexualized, and criticized for everything all at the same time. This vague sort of womanhood compounded with the lens of fame creates a specific bubble of control that she both has because of money plus relatability and does not have because of media and perceptions. The introductory song on GUTS titled “all-American bitch” highlights the sort of pressure that has become a part of life for her and many others. The track primarily has a soft and dainty sound with semi-satirical lyrics that project an “I’m always perfect and amazing” kind of mentality with lyrics including “I feel for your every little issue, I know just what you mean” and “Coca-Cola bottles that I only use to curl my hair”. The very feminine sound of the verses is contrasted by the anger and resentment in the chorus where Rodrigo proclaims herself “a perfect all-American bitch/ with perfect all-American lips/ and perfect all-American hips”. She must be perfect both in the soft girlish way of being a great listener as well as in sexy objectification way of her body being “all-American” too. Being perfect in two seemingly contrasting ways is emotional labor to me. While she can write a song that a lot of women relate to the industry and the world still looks to her to be all-American. To not complain in interviews and when compared to others, to not feel her emotions and heartbreak through songs, to not be too sexy or too unappealing. Even in song writing and singing as the Beck article put it, she is “monitored for [her] ability to produce an emotion”. As touring kicks off in February Rodrigo will be compelled to sing with the same emotions of heartbreak, anger, and love as she did when first producing the album even if she feels none of those in the present moment. 

The outro perfectly sums up the emotional labor of feeling like you must be perfect, so much so that it was a TikTok trend to put your own scenarios and frustration over the lines “All the time/ I’m grateful all the time/ I’m sexy, and I’m kind/ I’m pretty when I cry”. Not everyone is always a pop star with millions of eyes on them and has making others feel things as a full-time job, but the pressure to be perfect in every situation is one that many relate to. 

After reading a similar blog post about bodies changing after sports, I wanted to share my personal experience. My whole life I have been involved in many sports. I started club soccer when I was 6 and played up until high school, while also playing a variety of sports alongside soccer. Then in high school I played a sport in the fall, winter, and spring alongside club volleyball outside of school. I was always seen as the “skinny” kid because I was constantly active. The biggest change for me was when Covid-19 hit and put a pause on all sports. Being left stationary at home with no sports was a huge change for me. I saw a huge change in my body, going from this “skinny” girl to a girl who was not as skinny. This created a huge hate in my body. I would try to skip meals and look up quick weight loss meals. I was one of the many people who tried doing Chloe Ting workouts from YouTube during Covid. If hating the way my body looked was not already detrimental to my mental health, when we were finally allowed back to sports, that’s when I realized there was more about me, I hated. Stepping back on the volleyball court for the first time and realizing I was not the same player was hard to come to terms with. For a while I blamed it on being “rusty” and “not in season”, but as time went on, I realized I would never play the same. There are still days that I get really self-conscious about my body but then I realize, I can’t have the body I had at 14 because I am maturing, and my body has these natural changes. Body image is a detrimental thing that a lot of people deal with, and everyone’s experience with it is different. 

In class we talked about if being pregnant was a disability. I think when it comes to what a disability is I do not fit pregnancy under this category. I feel like pregnancy can present some limitations but does not disable you. The woman’s body is created so strongly that it gives us amazing abilities, like being able to grow a human in us. With any other thing in life, everyone experiences things differently, pregnancy is no different. I do understand that each pregnancy is different, and each experience is unique. I feel like periods and the menstrual cycle is in this same argument if it is seen as a disability. I feel the same way about the menstrual cycle as I do with pregnancy, that it poses limitations but does not disable you. Is every woman who gets a menstrual cycle disabled, even though it is experienced differently in every female? In my opinion the idea pregnancy is not a disability, but it can pose limitations. I feel like there are experiences that shape how you view this topic.  

To also relate this post into talking about reproductive bodies and pregnancy, I want to shift the attention to who is “in charge” during pregnancy. In history, we see woman not being “in control” because men overruled us, even when it came to our own bodies, as we sometimes did not have a say in what happened to our bodies. Today, as women have more rights, I have no clue why men feel like they have a say in our bodies. Women are the ones created to carry and grow a baby in us, which is an experience only women go through directly. With that being said only women should be seen as “in charge” during a pregnancy. 

What makes something a disability? Can mental illness be a disability? If your disability is being treated, and doesn’t currently disable you, are you still disabled? Are you still disabled even when your disability goes from being primarily visible, to primarily invisible? If you were in Special Education as a kid, but have made Dean’s List the last 3 semesters, are you still able to call yourself disabled? Do you say you are disabled? Do you say you were disabled? Do you count your issues as a disability at all? Is that undermining the plights of actually disabled people? 

Last year I was in a math class, and two girls sitting next to me got to talking about the fact they were both people who grew up disabled with chronic illness conditions. I couldn’t help but overhear them, and as they talked I realized I related to everything they said. From not being believed by doctors, to getting denied accommodations in school, to missing out on formative experiences due to disability and trying treatment after treatment with little to no results. But as much as I wanted to join in and say “me too” I couldn’t. I didn’t know how they would respond. 

As someone with severe anxiety and panic attacks, I’ve always felt like I straddle the line between mental illness and disability. People don’t like to consider mental illness a disability. Even in writing this anonymously, part of me is scared that I will get criticized for calling it that at all. I feel this need to go out of my way to justify that my experiences were bad enough to get the label of disability, to put my heart and trauma out on the table so that no one thinks I am trying to claim a label that doesn’t apply to me. But that’s exactly the problem.

I don’t want to have to explain the fact that I was a completely non-functional child, a total mess. It’s no one’s business that I had daily severe panic attacks that would last for hours, complete with kicking, screaming, and endless sobbing. It isn’t fun to recount the fact that multiple therapists told my parents that my issues were too severe for them to treat. I don’t want to have to explain the years I spent in Special Education classes in order to participate in a conversation about disability.

I am not the gatekeeper of disability. I don’t know what counts and what doesn’t. But in my opinion, while not all mental illnesses are disabling, some of them are, and I see no reason for that to be any less valid than any other kind of disability. Maybe there is no one firm guide to disability, maybe it’s more fluid and complicated than that binary allows.

In a world where appearance is very important, a lot of us have body image concerns that impact our daily lives and mental well-being. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror can make me feel powerful or powerless, influencing how I perceive myself. For me, my body image plays a big role in my day-to-day life. It affects everything from the outfits I choose to wear to how comfortable I feel in public spaces. I’ve had moments when I’ve stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing every curve and flaw, which, in turn, altered my perception of my body. But I’m not alone in this struggle. Many women in society deal with similar feelings, haunted by an idealized image of beauty shown by the media. It’s a constant battle, one that has many effects on my mental health. Choosing an outfit can be a hard when you’re conscious of your body image. I often find myself hesitating to wear certain clothes, fearing they would draw attention to the areas I’m most self-conscious about. It’s something I go through daily, an internal dialogue of self-doubt that many can relate to. Walking out in public can also make me feel self-concious about my body. Thinking about the fact that others perceive my body and can form their own opinions about it. It’s as if I’m constantly under a spotlight, and the pressure to look like unrealistic standards can be overwhelming. The mirror itself can make me feel good or bad about myself. It’s easy to become fixated on certain flaws, inadvertently distorting my self-image. My body image concerns can sometimes have a negative effect on my mental health. It can lead to feelings of depression and anxiety. The comparison to unrealistic beauty standards takes a toll on my self-worth. Supportive communities and professional help can offer guidance. Learning to love and accept myself as I am is a lifelong process, but it’s worth it. I am slowly working towards loving myself for who I am and being okay with all of the features I was born with. 

When I was little, I was always complimented on how “skinny” I was. I played sports at that time (club lacrosse and soccer), and my mother had full control over everything that I ate. My parents put me in sports as a child and I grew up playing them. I stayed the same “skinny” physique until around Sophmore year of high school. I decided to stop playing club lacrosse for mental health reasons, and I was told by the track team at my high school that I was not fast enough anymore. Then, for the first time in my entire life, I had to figure out how to keep myself healthy on my own when it came to working out and moving my body. I stopped for a while, I wanted a break from it, but I started to hate the way my body looked. I started to stalk models and other girls that society deemed beautiful and would shame myself because I did not look like them. My parents would tell me often to go to the gym because it would be good for me, but at this point I was in a depression. I slowly hated who I had become and who I looked like, and this continued for years and years. During this time in high school, I stopped eating for periods of time. Never having a stable healthy relationship with food, I either restricted or binged and always felt guilty no matter what I ate. I started to gain weight and my family started to make comments on what I was eating. I would get shamed for eating chocolate or would be told to loose weight so I could fit back into my school uniform. Then I began to skip meals and my relationship with food got worse from there. I was constantly on my phone wishing I was someone else and wishing I had a different body. This progressed for years, until last year of college. I met a group of people that made me feel like I did not have to be perfect, that I could be myself around and changed the way I view my body. I still struggle with this a decent amount but I am extremely grateful to have people in my life that always remind me that I do not need to change a single thing about my body and that social media is not always healthy.