“There are so many tiny revolutions in a life, a million ways we have to circle around ourselves to grow and change and be okay. And perhaps the body is our final frontier. It’s the one place we can’t leave. We’re there till it goes. Most women and some men spend their lives trying to alter it, hide it, prettify it, make it what it isn’t, or conceal it for what it is. But what if we didn’t do that?”—DEAR SUGAR, The Rumpus Advice Column #86: Tiny Revolutions - The Rumpus.net (via she-thinks)
I have this sneaking suspicion that even the women who are saying “love your body! every body is beautiful!” or “I actually do really love my body!” are sometimes also the women who sometimes post pictures of skinny girls on their blogs and wish to look like them or who skip dinner sometimes when they’re going to go out that night in an aim to cut calories.
My point is, sometimes I feel like we know, we know in our words that we should be healthy and that the thinness standard of most media is shit and that eating disorders are heart-breakingly awful, but we aren’t internalizing it enough. I think we really do mean the good things we say, but it can still be hard to live that out. And I hate that. I wish for us all to internalize body-positive rhetoric more, I want us to live it.
We’ve created this aura around virginity as if one’s virginity is a real and tangible thing—but of course it isn’t. Sex and virginity are socially constructed concepts. Are you a virgin if you engage in oral sex? Are you a virgin if you’ve kissed a girl? Are you a virgin if it was just the tip? Are you a virgin if your hymen breaks from tampon-insertion?
In my opinion, our obsessive focus on virginity and sexual purity doesn’t serve anyone. Losing one’s virginity is not an event; it’s a process.
posting because chopping down socially constructed ideas of virginity is always a plus with me, but omg, also the fact that he says “Are you a virgin if it was just the tip?” is so specific and sort of icky in a “this would never be in a teen magazine” way that I kind of love him for putting that in his answer.
Live a good life. If there are gods and they are just, then they will not care how devout you have been, but will welcome you based on the virtues you have lived by. If there are gods, but unjust, then you should not want to worship them. If there are no gods, then you will be gone, but will have lived a noble life that will live on in the memories of your loved ones.
“And I don’t, don’t, don’t get the hate. Self hate, women hate, body hate, stranger hate. That seems so exhausting. I like me. I like you. I like you, even if I don’t know you. I like you until I have a reason not to. And then I’ll probably still like you and try to view your meanness through the lens of your experiences. I try. Some people really work at making it hard. I don’t think it’s naive, though I’ve heard that before. I just think it’s a better way to be.”—bruiseoftheweek (via marythedaring)
I know sarcasm is fun, and believe me, wit is what gets me through the day half the time, but there are times when earnestly being thrilled about things has its place; he moments when I’ve been earnestly pumped to be a part of something have been some of the best times of my life.
I’m thinking about a trio of concerts (Broken Social Scene, Sufjan Stevens, Bon Iver) that were so phenomenal that I literally felt a natural high from the music and the solidarity of sharing such an amazing experience with a crowd of people and an amazing musician. They were like a wave of wonderful and they also made me appreciate individuality on a whole new level, because all of the musicians involved in those concerts are very unique people, and if they had followed the crowd and been like everyone else, neither I nor the other audience members could’ve felt what we felt at those concerts.
I’m also thinking about Slutwalk and any time you do something for a cause you really care about. To take your introspective beliefs and shout them out and fight for real progress in a movement is like little else. I saw women who had been sexually assaulted and had never told anyone speak about it to a crowd and be met with support. Things like that are real and they’re life-changing, and to be a part of an event that has such effects makes you really feel like you can actually do something if you put in the effort.
So what I’m trying to say is, get involved with things you’re passionate about. Drive the hour and a half to Montreal on a Tuesday night when you have a paper due the next day to see that musician you really love. Speak out for things you care about. Or do whatever you’re passionate about doing. More and more I think that such experiences are a quintessential part of life.
Ugh, you know what I am just so sick of? Not being able to turn down a guy without being called a bitch. I am so damn sick of arrogant assholes in bars not getting my attempts at subtlety and then being pissed when I’m overt. It’s not that I think I’m too good to talk to you, it’s just that maybe I don’t want to talk to you, and I have a right to not talk to you if I don’t want to. /rant
something that has always annoyed me is our collective obsession with how many people we have or haven’t fucked. who cares? for one thing, sex and fucking is subjective. it might not mean the same thing for you as it does for other people, and the idea that the “number” you have correlates with how many times you’ve been penetrated by a dick really makes me uncomfortable. and seriously, it doesn’t matter. not having ever had sex with anyone doesn’t make you any less of more of a person, and having had sex numerous times doesn’t either. i hate the idea that we’re supposed to quantify and lessen our sexual experiences by giving them numbers. when someone asks how many people i’ve been with, they’re obviously trying to find out something. but what? what does that say about me? how about how many times i’ve had an orgasm? or how many times i’ve sobbed in a strange bed? or what it feels like to laugh into someone’s bare shoulder, or the way your body feels when it first touches someone new? it’s not that i find my number personal or private or shameful, but that i just don’t care about it.
i love sharing my hilarious and beautiful and weird and stupid and sad and meaningful and awkward sexual experiences & hearing other people’s stories as well, but i have no interest in knowing your number. and you shouldn’t either.
I used to be pro-death penalty. It was my one oddly conservative-alligned view in a sea of my liberal views. I just figured that if you’d done really terrible things, like brutally torture & rape & kill a whole slew of people, you deserved to die for it, and also didn’t deserve life, when you denied it to others.
But my views have changed.
They were changed the most by a criminal justice history class that I took last year, and actually didn’t particularly like. The class wasn’t what I wanted/expected it to be, but one thing that I did take away was the barbarity of the death penalty.
I learned about its connection to lynchings. I learned about the evolving conceptions of criminals and punishing them, and how such things are not black and white. I learned about the brutality of previously used death penalty methods. I learned that the US stands with China, Iran, North Korea, Saudi Arabia, Libya & Yemen on the death penalty but very few industrialized nations among whom we normally like to consider ourselves. I learned that eye-witness testimony is incredibly unreliable.
So I know a few things. I know that if there is any doubt in a case, I strongly oppose the death penalty. As it is, I always imagined it for torturing rapist-serial killers, not people who had allegedly killed one person. But I also know now that I oppose the death penalty for anyone, in any circumstance. Because to systematically kill, as a nation, as a government action has troubling implications about us as a nation, and as a people.
One of the things we learned about in my class was early use of the electric chair. It seemed a good method to some, and better than, say, the quick, comparatively fool-proof, comparatively painless method of shooting someone because it wasn’t one person doing it, but “the state.” It wasn’t like one person had to bear the burden. But I say, we cannot avoid the burden of the death penalty. Calling it a governmental action does not change the fact that people are making the decision to kill another person. People are deciding, and someone is flipping that switch/injecting that needle. You cannot get rid of the responsibility, you can only spread it out. And when we advocate the death penalty, or even turn a blind eye to its cruelty, we are all responsible.