Softball Culture & Co-ed Sport

As I write this I think to myself, this blog will polarize people. You'll either nod furiously in agreement or fight me on it point by point.

I have been playing softball since I was 8 years old. I am hardly new to the game. Years of playing in  sport taught me so much about camaraderie, skills, sportsmanship, and team work. It wasn't always so full of sunshine and rainbows as it is a team sport; male or female drama happens. I played fastpitch as a young girl right into adulthood. At the age of 24 I stopped playing women's fastpitch and moved into a world of co-ed slo-pitch. This is where it began; my fight to be heard.

On a co-ed playing field I have experienced the following things on more than one occasion:

- Men jumping in front of me to catch balls
- Men calling each other pussies and other anti-female inflammatory language
- Men telling me where to stand on the field as if I've never played
- Men calling me a fat bitch
- Men and women in drunk debauchery to the point of it being dangerous
- Men yelling out, "Heavy hitter... literally!"
- Men mocking female players
- Men saying you are only as good as your female players
- Men making sexual assault jokes
Among other sexist, misogynistic statements

The truth is in all my years of playing female sport I have only had a handful of people I have come across who have been disrespectful or unsportsmanlike unlike in co-ed, where it is at almost every game.

So what are you saying then Court? Men are bad? Men can't handle themselves while playing sports? NO, far from it. What I am saying is in sport especially slo-pitch, to start off with the rules are sexist. It already sets us apart with advantages. I am sure in the beginning the divide in the rules were set out to make it a move even playing field. However, it sets a tone for the game. Rules that may have been once needed are now just plain offensive or super offensive to begin with.

I have been told by numerous men that in friendships and in sport jabs at each other are commonplace. Each to their own. Where I interject is where the insults offend fat people, disabled people, people of colour, and women. The following are common co-ed slo-pitch comments:
-You're such a pussy
-Sexual mother jokes
-You throw like a girl
-You run like a girl
-Your team is as only as good as your girls

First off... I am a woman. "Girl" is used for females under the age of 12. Let's break it down shall we?
When you say you throw like a girl, you are insinuating that your throws are lesser than your male counterparts. When a woman is complimented in saying wow you throw like a man, this implies you are better than. So, my super oversimplified example is to demonstrate that sexist language and ideals in co-ed slo-pitch is rampant.

I have also heard by many well-intentioned men, "Well its true, you are only as good as you female players." Whether you think it is true or not the comment is suppressive and sets a tone.
Lets beak this down shall we..

In softball, women are treated like a golf handicap. If your women perform well then your team will have more wins according to that statement. I didn't sign up for that kind of pressure or ass backward thinking. You can show me all the stats in the world to prove it is true, my point does not change. Once again women are put in a negative light and are then by proxy more responsible for losses and mistakes. Am I taking it too literal? No. Women are not responsible nor should be a collective consciousness punching bag for differed responsibility. You are only as good as your team, full stop.

Since the slo-pitch ratios are always less women then men, we feel we have less of a say.  I am not pitting men against women what I am saying is that women in co-ed sport are less likely to speak up. First off we are out numbered and secondly we are treated like we know less about the game. It is the ole "boys will be boys" mentality when sexism occurs. I am outspoken, I point out injustices when it is needed. I can't sit idly by. As a fat woman playing sport I am constantly told where my place is. I have less of a voice and the times when I do speak up I am not supported as if a man said the exact same thing.

Softball culture is drenched in booze, misogyny, sexism, and oppression. Until people speak up and stop being apathetic nothing will change. It’s scary to be that person to say what in unpopular especially when it’s always been that way. For a moment, instead of breaking apart my argument, let’s just say that this is true. How does that make you feel to be a part of something so oppressive? It’s the frog in the pot mentality we have become used to hearing it therefore it desensitizes us. These attitudes are not right, plain and simple. We need to rip out of it and choose different ways of playing in co-ed sport. I know its not on every team or with all men, I am saying that we are all a part of the problem when we don't speak up. Language is important.

Hugs N Shit
The Momma

Premenstral Dysphoric Disorder PMDD - WTF

I wake up and there is a familiar, yet oddly comforting, thundercloud looming over my head. I think to myself ah yes, there it is; I guess I just finished ovulating because here it comes, the progressive two week downhill trajectory of depression, rage, sadness, invasive thoughts, and conflicts. I take my morning Zoloft in hopes that it takes the edge off. It feels like the pill masks the PMDD but its still there. As the days get closer to my period my mind gets darker, the cloud gets closer and soon I will be not myself for the lack of better words.

Let’s fast forward to the day before I bleed. I wake up and I feel the blinding headache ready to morph into a full blown migraine. My only motivation to get out of bed to to pop 600mg of Ibprophan before my head explodes. I swallow down the 3 pills with a mangy cup full of pipe stagnant water but I give zero fucks to whether the cup is clean or if the water is tasty. My thundercloud follows me back to bed but my angels on earth pounce on me and reminds me why I need to get up today. I am welcomed by snuggles, love, laughter, and kisses. I am blessed, truly. My thundercloud waits in the wings. My committee of assholes has been temporarily silenced. Then I am hit with the reality of everyday life. It is time to get the kids ready for school.

 I put my hair in the messy bun, throw on some clothes, and remind myself to brush my teeth and I was neglectful last night after my sauce and cake binge. A sugar hang over feels like I want to throw up, cry, and do it all over again so I cannot feel. Like any addict I want the fix. Sugar for me has the magical ability to temporarily give me a high so I don't have to deal with emotions. As I head down stairs I hear the familiar committee of assholes in my brain. "Today is Monday, you know what that means you fat fuck. You can't even move down the stairs without pain because you're so fat..." I don't have the energy to silence them today. I merely mumble, fuck off under my breath. I go downstairs and I see the pile of dishes from last night, I am instantly filled with resentment and rage. A tidal wave of memories come flooding back of any relatable resentments. Like little vignettes the stories play out in my mind only adding to the PMDD fire. I want to snap, I want to run away, I want to be in a cave and hibernate like a mother fucking momma bear. I hear Rhys ask for breakfast I have to remind myself that he is not to blame. I turn around and I say what do you want my dear. He clings onto my leg like a sloth as I prep his breakfast with a literal weight tided to my leg. I make myself a cup of tea and I sit. I watch the world around me and resentments, rage, committee of assholes, and my thundercloud occupy my thoughts. I know this isn't me, I know this is temporary, I know I am bigger and better than this but it drags me down into the depression rabbit hole. 

I walk my sons to school in hopes no one sees me so that I do not have to make conversation. I don't feel I can lie at this point if someone asks me how I am doing I am likely to burst out into tears. It is best to leave early and be stealthy. I get back home with my 4 year old and I look at my house and think fuck I have so much to do. I try to write out a to-do list to keep my hands and mind busy. I think about how I am going to exercise my body today with out too much input from the committee. I think about how I want to eat as healthy as possible so I don't exacerbate my symptoms. And then I hear it, a song, someone sent me a song that reminded them of me. The song is True Colours by Cindy Lauper. I burst into tears, good tears. It is a reminder that I am loved however, my committee, has other plans. I am flooded once again with self deprecation. I attempt to rip myself out of it by doing some dishes when it hits me. "You should just kill yourself you know." There it is; the evasive suicidal thoughts that I cannot control. I have zero desire to act on them, but they scare the fuck out of me. I sit on the ground with silent tears flowing down my face. My four year old comes over and sits on my lap and says don't cry mommy. I cry harder of course and hold him close. He asks what is wrong and I say sometimes I get sad, and its ok. He sits with me and holds me with his cute little fingers playing with my tears. I tell him thank you for the hug, it always feels nice to get a hug. I then force myself to be completely present during a rousing game of charades. I am telling you watching a 4 year old act out a snake is the best therapy you can ever imagine. As my day progresses from doing chores, crying, internal rage, screaming into my pillow, and playing with my son I get moments of clarity. I think to myself, no more of this bullshit. I need to take better care of myself. But anyone who deals with depression the fight is neither easy nor comfortable. I struggle between the light and dark. I see my thundercloud I see my committee of assholes and I think they are not me. They follow me.

What the fuck did I just read? PMDD is like PMS but on steroids. What a headache is to PMS is a migraine to PMDD. There are similarities but both PMDD and migraines take on a life of their own. They are debilitating. Here is what web MD says about PMDD:
Symptoms of PMDD include:

• Mood swings
• Depression or feelings of hopelessness
• Intense anger and conflict with other people
• Tension, anxiety, and irritability
• Decreased interest in usual activities
• Difficulty concentrating
• Fatigue
• Change in appetite
• Feeling out of control
• Sleep problems
• Cramps and bloating
• Breast tenderness
• Headaches
• Joint or muscle pain
• Hot flashes
• Suicidal invasive thoughts  

Treatment and Solutions
First of there is no cure. Treatments include: the pill to regulate hormones, anti-depressants, exercise, good diet excluding processed foods, wheat, sugar, alcohol, and caffeine. A supplement cocktail including b6, b12, magnesium, evening primrose oil, macca root, iron, vitamin D and so on. It is also suggested some cognitive behavioral therapy, counseling, and of course support. Lately, the antidepressant route is not working anymore and I am seeking alternative therapies. The last a final treatment for PMDD is a hysterectomy. I will be discussing this option with my doctor.

For years I didn't; think much of it as I thought it was normal and ever woman went through it. It wasn't until I started taking the pill that I realized that this was bigger than me. I am in a transition phase from one treatment to another. It is always a time of turmoil and grief. I have an incredible about of guilt for the chaos I have caused around me. I know I shouldn't feel guilty but anyone who knows me, knows that I am a big ball of light the other half of the month. I'm a Jekyll and Hyde character with PMDD. .

Today was a particularly bad PMDD day and I decided to do something different. I posted on Facebook for help and I was blown away at the kindness and generosity. I plan on thanking each person individually and I have screen shot pages of responses and have saved them for the next time I am in the throws of PMDD. Thank you so much for the support. I am inspired to start up a PMDD support page on FB and blog the shit out of my impending recovery.

“If you’re feeling helpless, help someone.”

Aung San Suu Kyi, politician/Nobel Peace Prize winner

 

Fat - Just a word?

Fat (Noun) a natural oily or greasy substance occurring in animal bodies, especially when deposited as a layer under the skin or around certain organs. Synonyms: fatty tissue, blubber, flab, baby fat, spare tire, love handles.

Fat (Adjective) (of a person or animal) having a large amount of excess flesh. Synonyms: plump, stout, over weight, large,  chubby, portly, flabby, paunchy, pot-bellied, meaty, ample-proportions, heavy-set, obese, corpulent, fleshy, gross, big-boned, tubby, roly-poly, well upholstered, beefy, porky, blubbery, chunky, pudgy

Fat (Verb) make or become fat. "Numbers of cattle are fatted here."

I know "fat" is just a word. It’s a simple noun and verb but a very complex adjective. When "fat" is used in a descriptive derogatory way or used to diminish or take something away from another it becomes misused. The word "fat" becomes galling and obscene. Why am I taking a stand over a impetuous 3 letter word? Fat has become synonymous with undesirable. Like other derogatory words in our past they may have started out as simply a descriptor but have become far more complex and riddled with insinuation over time.

When you look at the synonyms attached to fat as an adjective you will see that it does not leave one with good feelings. In fact, not one of the synonyms has a positive association unless you are referring to a pig going to slaughter. So is fat just a word, technically yes. It is also a barbed word. Then why do we use it so flippantly? "He got fat." "You used to be so fat." "At least you're not as fat as them." The word is not just hurtful it is also powerfully oppressive.


We as a society were asked to stop using the word retarded for obvious reasons. The word retarded started off as a medical term: Retard (verb): to delay or hold back in terms of progress, development, or accomplishment. Retarded (adjective) less advanced in mental, physical, or social development than is usual for one's age. Retarded is now considered outdated and highly offensive, thank goodness for that. Then why can't we regard the word fat in the same way. Let's make it taboo to use so flippantly.

I take this on personally as words are powerful. The old adage: "Sticks and stones may break your bones but names will never hurt me." We all know is untrue. We thankfully know what people in verbally abusive relationships are just as abused as their physically abused counterparts and heaven forbid someone must endure both kinds of abuse simultaneously. Now I have heard many times it will only bother you if you let it or you are sensitive therefore you need to block out what others say or only you can let others oppress you. Here is where I stand, words are so fucking powerful. It goes beyond simply letting it go or ignoring it. This requires action. It is not ok to call someone fat under any circumstances. I will go a step further, it is not ok to comment on someone’s weight if they have lost or gained. Woah woah woah you say... but I am complimenting this person, they lost weight. This is a good thing. I'm not saying don't congratulate someone; just know your audience, really well.

Why it is inappropriate to comment on a person's weight lost or gained.

When you congratulate someone on losing weight you are inadvertently congratulating them for not being fat. Yes, losing weight is an accomplishment and is a lot of hard work but if you don't know the person or their history this can be particularly triggering. Someone's weight is no one else's business but their own. To congratulate weight loss to reaffirm that smaller is good bigger is bad. Then you say but it’s about health. True, health can be found in weight loss but I also know some very healthy larger people who could out run or out play those who appear to be of healthy size. When I lost 80lbs I was addicted to the kudos what I lost sense of the true purpose of my journey. It became about gold stars and seeking outside validation. People said you must be so happy now that you have lost the weight. I wasn't, I lost a sense of self. The biggest compliment you could give to someone is how wonderful they are as a human being not societal brainwashed version of what beauty should be. Let’s stop buying into the diseased social consciousness of the beauty myth.  Let's take the focus off of the outside and dig deeper. Let's evolve into highly empathetic, compassionate, progressive humans. I say lets leave the beauty indoctrination behind.

I'm not here to criticize if you have congratulated weight loss, used the word fat, or if you have said to someone that they are sensitive. I am merely offering a point of view from a stigmatized fat girl who walks with her beautiful body daily on this earth.

Just my two bits.

Hugs & Shit

The Momma

An Open Letter to Gold's Gym

Dear Gold's Gym,

Fuck you.

You run a business of maintaining and facilitating fitness, that's it. You're in the business of advertising to seek out individuals who would like to temporarily access your machines and weights for their own goals and agendas. Your business on your client's agenda is none of your business, unless they ask you. I did not ask you for advice yet I was given it anyway. You're that bully walking down the street handing out free fitness advice to anyone who "looks like" they need it.

Your apology was confusing, an after thought, a take-it-back-but-not-really-because-we-feel-entitled-to-shame-fatties-everywhere, God-driven, word salad, hot garbage soup. I don't accept. Do more. How will you become better than what you've put out? Apologies are not just mindless jumbled words thrown together to appease the masses. Apologies are also action to not continue the act yet I still see that the ads are still up which means you still endorse this type of thinking. You are not sorry. Your appalling behavior requires more. I highly recommend you visit eating disorder clinics with your mouths shut so you can just listen and learn.

Sincerely,

Courtney Catterall

Keep your mouth closed

Hugs and shit

The momma

Eating Disorders and Hiking

Pre-kids I was a bit of a hiker. I have scaled most of the North Shore mountains in Vancouver and up the sea to sky highway. I have tackled a few in the Fraser Valley and have a hike bucket list as long as the eye can see. When I had kids naturally this was put on hiatus but recently, its come back with a vengence. Last summer with my sister in law Robyn I did Garibaldi 50kmin 3 days. One of my biggest hiking accomplishments. This year I want to do Wedgemount in Pemberton just North of Whistler. I am very good at setting goals and trying to accomplish them. When completed, I get an overwhelming sense of confidence and willingness to do and learn new things. Here's the rub...

I feel like an imposter.
.

im·pos·tor

imˈpästər/

noun

noun: impostor; plural noun: impostors; noun: imposter; plural noun: imposters

a person who pretends to be someone else in order to deceive others, especially for fraudulent gain.

 

Why do I feel like an imposter? I don't feel like I belong there. I love nature, I love the mountains and the forest, I feel so at home there but I don't feel I belong because of the committee of assholes in my head tell me I don't belong there.  I don't look the part. All the hikers I have ever come across on the trails have always said hi and shared a few friendly words but when I speak with them I feel like I am not a part of their group. Why you ask? Here is what my committee of assholes tell me:

You're too fat

You don't look like a hiker because you can't buy hiker clothes as they don't come in your size

You take longer than the others

You are winded a lot

You are beet red and sweatier than anyone else you have seen

When people stop to chat people look at you wondering how the fuck you'll ever reach the top

Don't eat in front of people at the top, they will judge

How would you get off the mountain if you were hurt? You are too fat to carry down.

The list goes on...

 

Hiking is supposed to be my safe place but lately I have had intrusive thoughts. I go to the mountains to clear my head and get spiritual  and get grounded. My eating disorder follows me everywhere. It morphs, it changes, I have to be constantly vigilant. It rears its ugly head when I least expect it. 

So to ED (eating disorders) fuck off to you and your shitty committee of assholes. Fuck off to finding my one sacred place where I am supposed to be untouchable. Fuck you to judging me and others. And lastly, fuck off ED you are not welcome on my hikes any longer.

Hugs & Shit

The Momma

                                                        Hike like Colton... judgement free

 

Chocolate chips

 Today I ate a couple handfuls of chocolate chips. I planned on baking some muffins a few won't matter. Today I ate half a bag of chocolate chips. The only thing holding me back was I started to shake from the sugar. My brain said fuck it. Who cares. And even though I tried to flush the rest I ate more  until there was only a quarter of the bag left. Today I ate 3/4 of a bag of chocolate chips. I tried to throw the chocolate out but I kept thinking how garbage doesn't stop me. I kept eating. Today I ate an entire bag of chocolate chips. I shake from the sugar. My mind is clouded, sad, and filled with regret. I think of all the hard work I have put in and I just opened Pandora's box. Today I ate an entire bag of chocolate chips. The bag in the house that I convinced myself I could handle and bake something with it. Slippery slope. Today I ate an entire bag of chocolate chips, I might tomorrow but I won't for the next 5 minutes, that's all I can give

Hugs & Shit

The Momma