Hurt

In this week's November thankful post, I want to write about facing my fears and desensitizing myself.

These days, safe places and trigger warning are all the rage in mental health. Back in my day of Donahue and Oprah, we were taught to face what upsets or traumatizes us. By facing the fear, we took away its power.

Now I’ve never been a milquetoast unable to confront a jerk or deal with an insult thrown my direction. Yet I’ve been extremely sensitive about a slur hurled at my two sons with autism.

The first time I heard someone call Tigger the R-word was when a speech therapist “diagnosed” him with autism. She said the word so effortlessly and did it right in front of him too. That was in the mid-90’s when autism wasn’t often discussed and the R-word was still bantered around nonchalantly.

From idiot teachers to nasty bullies, the word followed my boys through life. By 2013, I assumed society was clued into how the R-word was as vile a slur as the N-word or F-word. No doubt I was naive.

During my BBA blogging days, I ran into a number of toxic people. Their behavior was simply eye roll inducing until they began using the R-word. 

When BBA like Parker, Middleton, Haldeman, and others casually threw around the R-word, I was shocked they found the slur acceptable. After all, I couldn’t imagine any of them using the N-word or F-word with such zeal. However, they saw no issue with calling people the R-word.

How could they be okay with using a slur? Was this how they were raised? I know many older people still throw around the R-word. While none of the women seemed old enough to be from that generation, perhaps they learned to use the slur from their family. Or maybe they were so sheltered in life that they didn’t see how painful the word might be to someone disabled.

That was a lonely time for me. Several of my “friends” soon decided to defend their friends who’d also used the R-word. Basically, our side couldn’t admit to having a few bad apples. Thus, our allies’ bad behavior must be excused away while, of course, the BBA’s identical behavior was to be loathed. When I chose not to excuse the allies’ behavior, I was labeled a bitch for not being cool with the R-word when the “right” people used it. The R-word is in the dictionary after all!

How could I argue against such thinking? The answer is I couldn’t.

So what does that have to do this year? Well, I was set to attend a signing in Dallas with an author I’d seen using the R-word on a mutual friend’s FB feed. Big deal, right? I attended a signing with Parker who used the R-word on her blog, FB, and GR without an ounce of guilt. If I could share a signing with her, what was the big deal about this chick?

Well, as I wrote earlier in the year, the author in Dallas writes in the same sub-genre as I do. We were bound to meet and I couldn’t ignore her like I did Parker. I had to engage professionally with this author, yet I despised her for using that word (among other vile things she enjoys sharing with the world).

I knew no matter what I said to anyone who used the R-word, they wouldn’t change their behavior. Shaming them doesn’t work. Guilting them doesn’t work. Reasoning with them certainly doesn’t work.

Since people like them will never stop using the R-word, I decided I was the one who needed to change.

Desensitizing my heart to the word meant reading screenshots of the BBA repeatedly using it. Once I’d done that enough, I searched for other people using the word. I found plenty of examples on Twitter and Facebook. The fact is people throw that word around constantly.

Facing their ugliness on a regular basis, I hardened against the deep resentment I felt when I heard the R-word or some variant. By the Dallas signing, I didn’t avoid the writer. I looked her in the eye and made friendly chit chat without giving away my lack of respect for her. She went about her life still happy to use the R-word and I went about mine with a tougher heart.

Sometimes the world isn’t fair or kind. Changing someone else is a futile goal, but we have the power to strengthen ourselves to the cruelties around us. I haven’t stopped hating the R-word, but I’ve accepted how many people enjoy the word and always will. Giving them the power to upset me was a mistake. Toughening up is a better path and one I embraced this year.

Silent All These Years

My first November thankful post (assuming I remember to do more this month) is about my writing career.

Last month, I attended the Carolina Book Fest in Charlotte. The signing was divine! The hotel was great. The venue was huge and so well air-conditioned. One of my “fangirls” decided to fly into Charlotte from the Chicago area to be my assistant.

If I was busy with another reader or author, Carina set up sales at my table. If I ran out of swag, she helped restock the table. Carina kept me focused and in a great mood. She even brought battery-operated fans because I once said I sweat like crazy at signings. The chick was dynamite, and what a great personality! After the signing, we ate at one of the hotel restaurants where I talked her ear off. I can’t wait until we hook up again in the future.

I was also able to talk with another fangirl named Melinda. She’d come to see me in 2015. This time, she brought her sister who was as cool as her. I wish we could have hung out a bit more. The next time I travel to Charlotte, I plan to arrive earlier, so I can take Melinda to dinner.

The signing once again showed me how blessed I am. Melinda and Carina have supported me since the beginning of my Bijou writing career. They’ve read all of my books from the darker ones like Gator to the funnier ones like Junkyard Dog. They followed me through my journey as a writer as I honed my skills and voice.

In addition, there was the moment at the signing when I was speaking to a traditionally published author my mother loves. She signed Sally’s paperbacks and was so sweet. I was surprised when she explained how close she got to giving up on writing. She stressed for me to never give up.

She's right, of course. No matter how anxious I get about deadlines or burned out from writing so fast, I remind myself how I have my dream job. Writing is something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid, and now it’s a reality.

In 2016, I enjoyed my best sales while writing books I once worried wouldn’t be appreciated. Back in 2014, I wondered if I could write anything other than the Damaged series. I'd tried a few darker books like Gator and Used. I’d written a short “happy” romance for a box set.

However, I’d never fully embraced my sarcastic Lala side in one of my Bijou books. With Junkyard Dog, I let loose and unleashed my inner snark. The book added a new layer to my Bijou brand and allowed me to push my writing beyond what I’d done before.

As with many things this year, the Carolina Book Fest gave me a jolt of enthusiasm and confidence for my career.

Hopefully, I’ll be back next week with another post about why I’m thankful in 2016. If not, just assume writing Train Wreck has made me flakier than usual.