Trying not to BNeg » girls

Why Being A Cosmo Reader Is Good For Society

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 04:30:00 +0000

Is it such a bad thing to be a Cosmo Girl? Should I be embarrassed to celebrate my 45th birthday this week and “fan” Cosmopolitan on Facebook? Ever since I was in college, going to the beach or the pool always meant a Cosmo magazine in my bag.

If you threw up in first grade, you could still be “the kid who threw up” in college, so I’ve been thinking about my image with every word I type.

I’m not into the fashion and beauty products. You don’t need to tell me that color-coding your files will not get you a raise in the workplace. That’s not why I read Cosmo. The tag is “Fun Fearless Female”. Usually one of the headlines catches my eye and more often than not it contains the word “sex”. We all have the same questions and concerns about this subject but very rarely trust a friend to discuss them.

When I worked for the Chancellor of New York University, I stumbled upon the section of the library for PhD students studying Human Sexuality. I read every book on the shelves. Perhaps I would have earned a graduate degree if I had abandoned the school of public administration for this concentration. I couldn’t believe people were earning doctorates in the subject.

A few years later, when my husband, then boyfriend, was in graduate school, Dr. Ruth came to speak at the University of Maryland. He managed to get me a ticket. I remember being so glad that all the students were respectable and earnest with their questions.

So yes, I’m a Cosmo Girl, except now I’m probably a Cosmo Woman. I can’t help but notice how the magazine is geared to young readers. All the uncertainty of dating and relationships makes me glad to be older. However, I still get the same sense of satisfaction that someone is answering women’s questions about the subject and suggesting ways for improvement. There’s nothing wrong with mixing it up and experimenting. Self-improvement should always include everything that you do.

Often I think I should be more respectable. Since I care about my personal brand, should I have admitted my secret magazine reading? Worst yet, should I be writing this explanation?

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wholesome sex between consenting adults. It’s a natural part of life.

I’ve always believed that as a society we are completely contorted about sex. Sexual abuse and sex crimes statistics are always sickening. 1 out of every 6 women in the United States have been the victim of an attempted or completed rape. At least 20% of runaway teen girls were sexually abused. I think we have made progress in taking abuse seriously and prosecuting it as a crime, but its implications are still far reaching, especially concerning depression and substance abuse.

Although I want to have that perfect image, I’d never do it by hiding who I am. What’s attractive about Cosmo goes beyond any of my personal preferences. Those pages allow women to be women and discover what that entails. The articles provide a benchmark for a healthy way of approaching this part of life and send a message that women shouldn’t accept anything less. The more we as a society make strides to be open about sex, the more we will feel comfortable condemning the mangled, disgusting incidences of its abuse.

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That's Where I Get It From?

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Fri, 26 Oct 2007 15:28:00 +0000

My mom just left after a few days visiting. Whenever anyone says that their mother or mother-in-law is visiting, I always go into high observation mode to determine if it is a good thing or not. I’m always excited no matter who is visiting and dream of owning a bed and breakfast some day, but visits from family members always mean that some extra baggage may follow. Sometimes I fear the baggage and I wonder if others feel the same.

As the moment of my mother’s arrival came closer, I found myself feeling more and more like the bratty, negative teenager I once was. Now, don’t get me wrong, I never actually had the opportunity to be a bratty, negative teenager which is probably why I’m still one. When I should have been revolting against the ‘rents they were too busy running out the door every night in a one upmanship of activity leading to their very hate-filled divorce. There was nobody in the house to act out against, just my brother and I doing our homework and watching t.v. every night.

So, mom’s coming to visit, we have nothing in common, and I’m feeling like a brat. For years, I have firmly believed that I am nothing like my mom. My husband once asked how I turned out the way I did since I was so very different from my mom and grandmother. I always say that I’m just like my dad. He was a “can do” guy who would organize businesses to protest new township rules and work with troubled youths.

Imagine my surprise when I took my mom to hear my friend’s band and she really enjoyed the rock music. She was tapping her foot, and had a great time. When the band finished she wanted to stay for the next band. There was no next band, but boy ‘o boy is that exactly how I am. I always want them to keep bringing the bands on and I’ll stay all night into the next morning without ever growing tired. My mom always either had Elvis or country music playing on the radio. I would sing along and dream of being a star. I can’t remember my dad ever listening to music.

I pride myself on being able to pull back and analyze myself completely so this was astounding to me. My love of bands is one of my most defining characteristics and it comes from my mom. But that’s not all.

While mom was here, she was with me everywhere I went. My life was happening and she was here. My friend was featured on Montel Williams. She’s a friend who I help out when she needs me. The show was on domestic violence and she did an awesome job. Mom and her boyfriend, Donald, and I watched together. We also had been in the car the day before when a male friend called and we had a nice conversation and made plans which mom heard. I felt it necessary to explain that he was gay so it was okay to get together with him. Plus, I spent a great deal of time showing her pictures of my outreach efforts to families at my school where I have a wide assortment of friends.

I have a WIDE assortment of friends. Many of which need a helping hand and I’m there to give it to them. I used to HATE that my mom did this. She was friends with all these different people all the time. She still spends a great deal of time telling me how she helps this friend and that friend, and their situations, and what she does and…

Wait a minute, I get ths from her too? Honestly, I have never, ever thought of myself as being anything like my mom. We don’t get along and we don’t have anything in common. I can’t believe it took me this long to discover these connections.

I’m thankful for the visit. I’ll be spending a great deal of time thinking about the two of us and how we are not that different. Also, I’ll be wondering about my sons in the future and how they might be like me.

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Did You Just Call Me a Girl?

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 17:45:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, the “kindergarten dads” came over for a sampling of beverages. I didn’t know either of them well, but had spoken with them during the school year.For some reason during the conversation, I mentioned that I was a tomboy. In unison they said, “No way!” “Yes!” I replied and then I started down a long, spur-of-the-moment list about how I always was a tomboy. They looked at me in silent disbelief for a long time, then one said, “Well, you bat for the other team now.”

I couldn’t believe it. Did he just call me a girl?For two weeks I was really bothered at being called a girl, then it started to bother me that I didn’t want to be a girl. What frustrates me about being a girl anyway?

When my mother first explained what would happen when I was a women, I told her “No.” Then she had to explain to me that I wasn’t getting a choice. Maybe that’s it, no choice. Looking back through history women definitely didn’t get a choice in life for marriage, education, or job. The word “choice” is intimately wrapped up in the abortion issue too.I do place an extremely high emphasis on being able to do what I want, but I don’t think it’s a lack of choice.

It’s more the thought of not keeping up with the guys. I just always considered myself equal with everyone. I could never let my brother do something without proving I could do it. “Oh, yeah! Well, I can drywall the basement too!” The problem is he can do everything and he’s my little brother. In college I was the first woman radio station manager, when the vast majority of the d.j.s were guys. The executive board was composed of all guys, except for my roomate. Our advisor was a sociology professor who said to me, “I can’t believe they let you be in charge; and I can’t believe you are in complete control.” I didn’t know I was doing anything unusual. I was just being me.

Maybe I think you can’t keep up with the guys if you’re being a “girly” girl. Ask my kids what I say when I go to the mall, they’ll tell you I chant “I hate the mall.” If I need to buy something, I go to a store that sells it and get out as fast as I can. Newspaper articles always state that this is the way men shop. Perhaps I’m missing some shopping gene. I know I prefer doing other things instead. Things that guys like to do.

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