It's Kind of a Long Story... about BARBIE

The Horror. The Horror.

Hey Drama Goblins,

I recently read a Substack post from Geloy Concepcion (the photographer I wrote about earlier this year) where he explained his 8-month absence from the platform:

I got super busy with work and rest. In our family, we always try to rest 10-15 days of the month. That’s our rule. So if we’re resting, we’re busy. haha I don’t know if that makes sense.

That makes so much sense. His little family of three prioritizes rest.

How fortunate his daughter is to be growing up with those family values.

I’ve made great strides toward paying attention to my need for rest and sleep and downtime, but old habits die hard. There’s just so much to do! Have to dos and want to dos and the days just seem to fly.

I’m getting exhausted again.

Geloy’s wise words may be the wake-up call I need to calm down a bit. Lean into ease.

I recently told someone that the biggest “ah-ha/no-duh” moment of my mental health leave last year was that the secret of the world is that there’s not only not enough time to do everything, but that there’s not enough time to do anything with the time, care, attention, intention, and ability to mess up and try again that it deserves. Time is the ultimate luxury.

I’m so grateful you’re spending some of that precious commodity with me, and as always, I’m so glad you’re here,

Lara

“I’m Here to See My Gynecologist”

Short Story

I had what I believe to be a unique take - because I didn’t see it reflected in any reviews or think pieces or discussions - on the Barbie movie. It wasn’t a comedy. It wasn’t a satire. It was a horror movie.

Long Story

Last summer I got a lot of eye-rolls for my take on the ending of the Barbie Movie. If you'll recall, it was a fake-out. The audience is led to believe she is going to her new boss babe job, but instead, she walks up to a reception desk and happily declares, "I'm here to see my gynecologist!"

It landed for me Twilight Zone twist. It turned the film into a horror movie. Now that she was a real woman (which the movie made no case for why she would want to be) her body was now subject to poking, prodding, and pain.

Also pleasure, but there was no mention of that.

Now that she has a vagina, she is going to be largely ruled by it.

Periods. Pregnancy. Miscarriages. Menopause.

IUDs. UTIs. STDs. PMS.

It will be regulated by the government. She'll have to change her behavior to keep it safe. It's the last time she'll be excited to go to the gyno.

That moment didn’t have me leaving the theater feeling joyous or uplifted. Barbie has been dropped into the really real world which her big smile at the reception desk clearly indicates is something she wasn’t adequately prepared for. Are any of us?

She is Eve who has bitten the apple. She has expelled herself from Eden and sacrificed innocence for knowledge of the pain and pleasure of a woman’s body.

Funny, joyous, and uplifting would have been her having some kind of sexytime with her new ladybits. Isn’t that the best part of having them? Maybe a callback to the sleepover exchange with Ken but now she knows why, or ending the movie with her doing a double-take walking by a sex shop with vibrators in the window.

I understand why Mattel might have shied away from that ending, but the one they signed off on places Barbie firmly in the cinematic tradition of Thelma & Louise and A Promising Young Woman: There are consequences to be paid for being a woman.

I’ve been low-key stewing about this for over a year. I was discounted and dismissed for making a big deal out of nothing as women have been discounted and dismissed for expressing their fear and pain at the gyno.

And then, two weeks ago the CDC recommended that docs finally offer women pain relief for IUD insertion and removal after decades of unnecessary pain and suffering

I’ve had an IUD inserted. It hurts like a mofo. I’ve had one removed too, and if possible, it hurt worse. I’ve still got one. I’m going to be buried with it. I will not go through that again.

I have had other borderline traumatic experiences at the gyno, with objectively nice and caring woman doctors, who are still part of an overall system that does not take women seriously and a culture that punishes us for our sexuality any chance it gets.

Gone are the days like the one depicted in Mad Men, where Peggy is slut shamed by a cigarette-smoking doctor for wanting to go on the pill, but the power dynamic of a pelvic exam is still heavily tilted toward the doc.

60 years ago. Not much has changed.

It's very hard to advocate for yourself when you are naked under a paper gown, on your back, feet in stirrups, legs open, and a doctor - no matter how kind or which gender - is inserting fingers and medical devices into the most sensitive (in every sense of the word) part of your body.

And about those stirrups. What is covering them to keep your tender feet warm and comfortable? Tube socks or oven mitts, likely put there by a caring nurse on her own time and dime, and sending the patient the message loud and clear that their comfort is an after thought, and reliant on the kindness and unpaid labor of other women.

I have learned that they don’t use stirrups in the UK. They consider them barbaric.

If you know someone who would get something out of that story, please share!

Lara Sez…

Listen!

80’s Deep Cut of the Week! Still ear-worming me 40+ years later…

Read!

The only thing more surprising than my enjoying Eat, Pray, Love, is that author Elizabeth Gilbert also wrote The Signature of all Things, a long, strange, beautiful novel about a quirky and brilliant woman botanist who is drawn away from science toward the mystical by a mysterious man.

Follow!

@projectcoconuttree is the Harris/Walz meme account you need!

A lot of the best posts are videos so I couldn’t capture them, but trust, it’s worth it to add ‘em to your scroll.

Before I let you go…

I’m just 6 shy of 500 subscribers. If you have a pal you think would pick up what I’m puttin’ down, please share. It would mean a lot to me to hit that milestone.