"For the record, feminism by definition is: ‘The belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities. It is the theory of the political, economic and social equality of the sexes.’
I started questioning gender-based assumptions when at eight I was confused at being called “bossy,” because I wanted to direct the plays we would put on for our parents—but the boys were not.When at 14 I started being sexualized by certain elements of the press.When at 15 my girlfriends started dropping out of their sports teams because they didn’t want to appear “muscly.”When at 18 my male friends were unable to express their feelings.I decided I was a feminist and this seemed uncomplicated to me. But my recent research has shown me that feminism has become an unpopular word. Apparently I am among the ranks of women whose expressions are seen as too strong, too aggressive, isolating, anti-men and, unattractive.
Why is the word such an uncomfortable one?”

"For the record, feminism by definition is: ‘The belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities. It is the theory of the political, economic and social equality of the sexes.’

I started questioning gender-based assumptions when at eight I was confused at being called “bossy,” because I wanted to direct the plays we would put on for our parents—but the boys were not.

When at 14 I started being sexualized by certain elements of the press.

When at 15 my girlfriends started dropping out of their sports teams because they didn’t want to appear “muscly.”

When at 18 my male friends were unable to express their feelings.

I decided I was a feminist and this seemed uncomplicated to me. But my recent research has shown me that feminism has become an unpopular word. Apparently I am among the ranks of women whose expressions are seen as too strong, too aggressive, isolating, anti-men and, unattractive.

Why is the word such an uncomfortable one?”

(Source: holandroden, via joshpeck)

merpitschelsea:

i’m legitimately afraid of ending up alone forever because damn i’m almost 22 and no one has wanted to date me yet. just fuckin talk to me i’m pretty cool and i make good nachos… 

yall are me from the future. young 20 but not asked out

(via honorreigns)

helpmeee

"

The first time a man slapped me on the ass, I was fourteen years old, bussing tables at a family restaurant.

Catcalls make me jump out of my skin. I have never figured out how to take them as a compliment.

When I learned that “no” did not always stop slipping lips and wandering hands, I was sixteen. I was told that it was my fault for being tempting. I haven’t left the house with shorts on for years. It makes me nervous to be alone somewhere with another person when I have a dress on.

I always get uncomfortable when men make jokes about why women go to the bathroom in groups. Nobody likes to hear that we are taught from the youngest age that we should never go anywhere alone.

The second time that “no” did not stop someone, my date pulled up in front of my house and hit the door lock, wrapped his hand around my throat because I told him I just thought we should be friends.

The third time, I was sprawled out on a hammock in the front lawn with a man I’d been out with a handful of times. When I first said “no”, I thought maybe he didn’t hear me. “Please no, please don’t”. “Please no, please don’t.” “Please no, please don’t.”

Once I was told by a man that it was my fault if he ever went too far because his brain was wired like an animal. I didn’t argue. Can you believe that I didn’t argue? I wanted to say that even my dogs recognize the word “no”, but I was afraid of how he would react. I had to sit through the rest of the date with a smile on my face.

I carry my keys just to walk to the mailbox at night. I’m too paranoid to jog down my street alone.

I have been groped on the sidewalk. I have been groped at the bar. I have been groped on the bus.

The time I was followed all the way to my friend’s car by a group of men who stood around laughing and jeering and banging on the windows, not letting us pull out of the parking garage, was the last time I ever let a man buy me a drink at a bar.

I have men in my life who would call themselves my friends who have put their hands on my hips and my thighs without my permission. There is no question. They do not think they have to ask. They laugh when I bristle.

It took twenty-two years to realize only I had a right to my body.

I used to bite my tongue, but I do not say “no” quietly anymore. I bark my discomfort like an old dog, weary and uncomfortable even in its sleep.

"
- "this is not a fucking poem; it is an outrage (I Spent Twenty-Two Years Trying To Be Nice About It)" Trista Mateer  (via arpeggiated)

(Source: tristamateer, via emsfitjourney)

angrywocunited:

………………………………..sigh.

Like you couldn’t get a Japanese girl to be on the cover of Vogue Japan’s anniversary…

Devon Aoki would have been a perfect choice. 

And a big fuck you to the Daily Mail for sexualizing Geishas.

Where are the white feminists?

oh right you’re silent, you’re always silent. 

(via joshpeck)

phandoms-united:

art-sex-drugs:

I have finally hit my breaking point. For as long as I can remember I have endured my mother’s abuse, whether it is verbal, emotional, or as seen here physical. I can expect some act of violence on a daily basis, and her beating me is not an usual occurrence, but today something snapped. My mother did this unprovoked, and this time she didn’t stop. Usually it’s bad for a little while and then she’s done, today it went on for what seemed like forever. At a certain point I decided I was going to do something I never do, call the police. You see, my mother is a highly respected and very well known person where I live. She is on the board of ed, worked for CPS for many years, and is close personal friends with people like the local chief of police, director of our local CPS unit, and so on. I always knew that calling wouldn’t go anywhere and just upset her more, but today I had to try. While she was kicking me I found my opportunity, and somehow managed to get away from someone more than twice my size. I ran as fast as I could, knocking things over behind my, trying to find a phone. I dialed and they listened and my mother proceeding to beat me over it, while I screamed for help. For the second time today, I managed to get away from her and ran to my room. I barely had enough time to lock my door, before she starting trying to get it, to the point that she ripped my door off the frame. I decided I was going to stay locked in there, until the police came. The past few months I have been collecting evidence against her, voice recordings, pictures like these, and videos of her violence, so they couldn’t dispute what was going on. But I was dead wrong. 

When the officer finally came up to my room, I attempted to tell him my side of the story, but before I could get a sentence out he silenced me. HE told me that this was my mothers house, and I needed to live by her rules. If I didn’t she had the right to punish me. He also told me to be tankful for her, because he wanted to press assault charges against me. finally, he refused, despite my begging, for him to take me to a shelter for teens. 

I am utterly disgusted by the injustice that occurred today. I pray there is no one else out there who is living in such a situation. I am not sure exactly what I am getting out of writing this, except maybe that it’s just nice to be able to open up about this, when I have had to keep it a secret my whole life. idk. sorry for posting such heavy shit. 

Signal boost the fuck out of this

(Source: kosmological, via joshpeck)