im a bad person who thinks bad thoughts like ‘ew what is that girl wearing’ and then remember that im supposed to be positive about all things and then think ‘no she can wear what she wants, fuck what other people say damn girl u look fabulous’ and im just a teeny bit hypocritical tbh
I was always taught by my mother, That the first thought that goes through your mind is what you have been conditioned to think. What you think next defines who you are.
1. If you don’t like the way he kisses you, you won’t like the way he fucks you. Get up and leave.
2. If he won’t go down on you, but expects you to go down on him, laugh. Get up and leave.
3. If you don’t want to do something and he doesn’t respect that, slap him round the face. Get up and leave.
4. If he isn’t okay with the imperfections on your skin, if he says they turn him off, get up and leave.
5. If you don’t want to shave your legs and he thinks that’s disgusting and refuses to touch them, get up and leave.
6. If he doesn’t see your body as a masterpiece, as a complete work of art, get up and leave.
7. If he makes you feel uncomfortable about any part of your body, get up and leave.
FML. Kory is coming home tonight after being gone for more than two weeks and I think I’m getting sick.
HAHAHAHA FUCK MY LIFE I HAVE TO BUY A NEW CAR.
My car is prob rly fucked up and I have no idea how I’m gonna get it to get to the shop to get fixed. OR HOW EXPENSIVE ITS GOING TO BE AND FUCK I JUST HAD TO SPEND 4K ON A NEW AC UNIT FOR MY HOUSE. I DONT HAVE MONEY FOR THIS SHIT. ughhhh
Called Kory to get sympathy and to just talk about it and got none. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh
So basically the Supreme Court just said that a corporation not only has free speech, can contribute as much money as it wants to political causes, it also has the ability to impose its religious beliefs on its employees and tell you what you can and cannot do with your body.
But somehow when they actually have to take responsibility for things like poisoning water supplies and knowingly manufacturing goods that kill people they don’t go to jail or get shut down.
God bless America, a country of the corporation, by the corporation and for the corporation.
A co-worker closed the door to the staff room behind him.
It locked automatically
and I started planning what I could use as a weapon:
smash the glass beside the fridge into his eye.
pick up the fork next to me and sink it into his leg.
claw him across the face if I couldn’t get to anything in time.
As I calculated how hard it would be to shove his body weight off of me,
he finished making his lunch, said, “Sup,” and left,
the door automatically locking behind him.
I expect if I told him I was prepared to stab him with the corner of my staff ID if I had to,
he would say what I’ve heard too often, the one we all know
but are getting wearily suspicious of:
Not all men are like That.
When I was eleven, all the girls in my class got sent to self-defence
because they assumed we’d need it one day.
When I was twelve, there was a prostitute’s body dumped in the river next to my house
because someone thought she was disposable.
When I was thirteen, it happened again and this time the man went to jail
and people stood outside the courtroom and held up signs that he did the right thing.
When I was fourteen, my friend showed up to a sleepover late, chest heaving from sobbing
and from running four blocks after getting chased by a man that followed her off the bus.
When I was fifteen, my mother accused me of being a Man Hater
and I said, “No, but god, would you blame me if I was?”
I got catcalled and then got laughed at when I flipped them off.
they pulled up beside me and I clutched my bag tighter,
my hand going in for my keys and my mind going over how their noses would look
if I smashed them in with my elbow.
“What’s the big deal,” the guy at the steering wheel asked. “We’re just complimenting you. We’re not like That.”
Sorry, but I’m not going to trust you in case I end up on a poster labelled ‘MISSING.’
Even if you seem like the nicest guy, I’ll still have one hand holding my keys
as the only knife I’m allowed, because I don’t know how far you’re going to take it:
if you won’t back off when I tell you I don’t want to date you
if you’ll shout BITCH at me when I don’t respond well to your catcall
if you’ll expect my body as a reward for treating me like a human being
if you’ll try to take what you think you’re owed by being a man
if you’ll turn me into another statistic that people shudder away from.
I have been trained to assume that it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing
or face the consequences.
I don’t know if you’ll nod when I reject you
or pump me full of bullets.
Every single woman I’ve talked to has a story where they haven’t felt safe in their own body
because of what a man said or did.
Not all men are like That, but god, it’s enough.