I am a feminist because when I tell people I am an actress, they ask if I’ve slept with directors, because it is so inconceivable to them that as a woman I should receive a part based on my talent and not how good I am in bed.
I am a feminist because the boys that I live with think it is okay to tell me to wear a thong because my panty line makes them uncomfortable.
The day I dress for a man is the day I’m dressed for Heaven.
I am a feminist because when I wore a backless dress on New Year’s Eve, a man told me that it meant that I was “asking for it”, and the way he said it I knew he accepted it as a fact. I gave him the middle finger and glared at any man who leered at me that night.
I am a feminist because since the age of 12 I have been told that a boy’s education is more important than my own, through the classes missed because my shoulders are showing and my shorts length is distracting the boys.
I am a feminist because when I walk across campus, passing a group of boys 12 feet from my residence fills me with such terror that my feet speed up and tears burn at the corners of my eyes.
I am a feminist because the first thing I do when I see a man on the street is think of all possible escape routes and take an inventory of what I can use as a weapon.
I am a feminist because seeing a man stare at me through the bus window fills me with dread, not only from a fear of being attacked but because I know I will be told it was my fault for taking the bus alone.
I am a feminist because statistics say 1 in 5 woman are victims of sexual assault, and that means that at least one of my baby cousins, at least one of my best friends, will be or has been assaulted and that thought makes me physically ill.
I am a feminist because people still think it’s okay to ignore the problem, because the first response when I bring up the issue is “not all men”. No, not all men, but enough men that I can’t walk home alone. Every man I see is innocent or a potential rapist, and there is no in between.
I am a feminist because girls are still taught that if they don’t take protective measures, the rape is their fault, and boys are never taught that just because she is a woman, does not mean she is theirs to touch.
I am a feminist because feminism is about fighting for gender equality, for making the streets a safer place to be alone, for making the issue one that is discussed openly without anger.
I am a feminist, and if you have a problem with that, you can go home alone tonight."
— For The Boys Who Won’t Date Feminists, M.M.A. (via osnesqueen)
— T.S. Eliot (via amandaonwriting)
I woke up one day, lost and afraid and desperate. He had left me desolate. There was no turning from this pain only ripping of dry blood again and again with every thought of his touch in every memory that clutched so longingly to songs and poems and clouds and it’s hard to make tea just for me now. You see, he started as a thought, an idea, a wish shouted out into the vastness. an answered prayer. And time stopped every time he was near and now it’s as if all of those missed minutes and hours and days came speeding up and smashed right into my face the sadness I neglected and the joy I overspent and the tears I selfishly held on to because I was too busy playing around with the different ways in which I could turn my smile right side down. I am a wreckage of mass proportions. And that’s okay. I need not explain when they complain that he’s not worth it. My tears, my anger, my solitude. He was worth every piece of me then, nothing has changed. I will give him my wrath as freely as I did my body, with trust that he will know what to do with it. I will hand him my tears in cups made from hands he promised would always be my harness. He can take my pride and my dignity and I will show him that being the lady-part of human does not always mean composure nor does it mean grace or turning away my face from his nonchalant cavalier attack on my heart. I loved him with every fragile bit of my being and the evidence was seen in the shattered porcelain on the floor and the key tracks in the door and the briefest second in which I calculated the trunk size of my car or the stamina with which I could carry his heavy heart over my shoulder with its leg attached to a boulder. I will take this brief second to break, for the longer I wait the smaller the frame will become leaving me with no words to shout, no dishes to break, only wishes I had taken this courage of mine to speak my mind and bare my insides. They were full of you but I am rid of you and wish everything of the best with you.
I woke up one day, found and okay.