Tag Archives: women
21 Jul

That moment when you’re in such a hurry to put your tampon in that you accidentally and very suddenly punch your vagina. So you’re just in the bathroom and you’re yelling because it hurts and you’re like “AHH” “FUCK” “DAMNIT” “HOLY BABY JESUS GOD DAMN”

And the person in the next stall is totally silent but you know they are wondering what to do. Like…should I see if she is okay in there? Should I ignore it? Should I run and pretend I wasn’t even in here? Maybe I should just pull my feet up and pretend like I don’t exist.

And then you don’t know if you should just laugh or say IT’S FINE.

So you’re both just sitting there in silence and its awkward and neither of you wants to leave first.

 

This awkward moment brought to you by Michelle *wink double finger point*

Don’t Get Raped

11 Apr

It seems like a simple enough phrase: “Don’t get raped.”

Really, though. It is quite the opposite.

Those 3 words conjure up feelings of spite toward rape culture, of dark alleys filled with men waiting for a girl to unknowingly walk through, of the act itself. The only time I’ve found myself saying this phrase to anyone, whether male or female, is when I’m being facetious. This comes from the same place that causes me to both be very aware of my surroundings, but also not fear them. My choice of advice when a friend is leaving is actually “don’t get murdered.”

Same amount of usefulness, but it suits my style a little better.

You see, saying don’t get raped isn’t very useful on the surface, and people get all up in arms about this phrase because we shouldn’t be advocating don’t get raped we should be advocating don’t rape. Saying don’t get raped somehow puts the blame on the victim of such a crime making it somehow his/her fault, which is obviously untrue.

Just like saying don’t get murdered saying don’t get raped is actually a much more loaded phrase than we think it is. It means “watch your surroundings”, “make good choices”, “don’t get into a windowless van with a stranger”. It embodies all of those things in just 3 words, because if it was as easy as teaching people to not rape, rape wouldn’t be a thing anyway. The kicker is that people who rape, or murder, or commit serial crimes have problems that extend beyond the simply telling them to not rape. They don’t care about consent because they crave the power that comes without it. I’d love if someone could post some statistics in the comments (that’s what you get when you blog with a poor internet connection), but I feel like rape and murder have to be statistically similar.

I also want to point out that because of the mentality that is commonly associated with rape and murder and such crimes, telling someone before they go out on the town “don’t rape anyone” automatically casts blame onto the recipient. They go from feeling like a normal person to feeling as though the person giving such advice truly feels that they are capable of such a crime. I know that “no means no” and if a friend of mine told me in all seriousness to not rape someone, I would be extremely offended. The phrase don’t rape assumes the worst in someone, and that isn’t okay either.

My advice is to use better word choice when teaching young people about consent, such as “no means no” and that coercion isn’t okay and that you are never entitled to someone else’s body, regardless of your relationship to them.  We should also gravitate toward using phrases such as “make good choices” because even if rape disappeared entirely, you can still have a lot of bad things happen to you from point A to point B. 

“Make good choices” is also an empowering phrase, that brings us out of this vicious cycle of rape culture. Because really, while I have a very unpopular opinion of rape and sexual assault, I’ve never met a single soul who really thinks that rape is caused by the victim.

Make good choices, folks.

Do you agree that “don’t get raped” is a much more loaded statement that just being about rape? Do you agree that “don’t rape” is assumptive and negative? How do you think we should teach kids about sex, consent, and relationships? Does “make good choices” perpetuate rape culture, too, and if so, how do we not perpetuate rape culture?

Adult? Myth.

9 Apr

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Just today, I sat down to my computer and I saw the above picture was on my Facebook feed, provided by a really great woman I’m friends with. Despite its simple assemblage of words, it was meant to be provocative. While I concur, I really doubt that the thoughts it has provoked in my mind are quite what was meant when someone taped that piece of paper to that window.

My first thought kind of bypassed everything and while I don’t consider myself someone who exploits men sexually, I do find that I’m just as distracted by attractive men as men are by attractive women.

Once I posted my self-designated “awkward comment”, I started to realize that more than a glance was needed to decipher this piece of paper.

Right away we are setting ourselves up to believe that this male-stereotype is true, and perpetuating ill-will toward men. All the while, the author sets us up to feel that women are seen as sub-human and sexually exploited.

I feel sad for woman-kind if I’m in the minority with this sentiment, but I’ve never thought to myself Michelle…that person is trying to sexually exploit you. Ever. I’ve never felt sub-human, either.

The same women who tell me that feminism isn’t about man-bashing (when I tell them I’m not a feminist, I’m an equalist) are just perpetuating the belief that all men want sex and only sex. These same women are telling us, via this picture, that men never get slack about their bodies.

While I wish someone on this fair planet could say no one has ever had a problem with their body, it just isn’t true. Let me tell you a quick story from 7th grade…

Once upon a time, I was sitting in class with my less-than-favorite teacher and a classroom full of other 7th graders. A boy in my class was wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut-off. It looked a little something like this:

Unfortunately for him, guns were against school policy in more ways than one, so he was told he needed to change. Much to everyone’s surprise, when the horrible witch secretary told him this, he retaliated. You see, she, too had the guns out that day. Her shirt looked a tad like this:

Unfortunately, no one listens to a 7th grader’s logic, so even though what he said made SO much sense, he had to change anyway. She didn’t have a good response, other than she was a woman and he was a boy. 

Catch my drift? And if you still don’t believe that men are sexualized then go to Google and drool over some male underwear models.

Once you’re done with that…see what I did there? Drool. Degrading men with my eyes again. Case and point – just stop with this “men never…women always…” or “men always…women never…” stuff. It isn’t making the case for feminism any better because nothing is 100%.

Now that I’ve made that point, I always felt provoked to tell you about sex. Not in the birds and the bees kind of way…but in the I’m-a-sexual-creature-and-I’m-okay-with-that kind of way. Humans. We are all about the sex. I’m an intensely sexual being and so are you. We look and we enjoy. We indulge. For some reason, we are stuck on this whole idea that it is okay for me to look at a man without a shirt on and ogle but it isn’t okay to ogle at a girl who is (I can only assume based on this picture) working out in revealing clothing (sports bra and short-shorts, perhaps?). You might read that and say…”well, that isn’t true at all!” but yes, yes it is. We hide it by the fact that we say we don’t consider men as visually stimulating sexually as we do women, but that is just a huge lie.

I’ll save my rape culture rant for a different day, because this is already a pretty hefty blog. That brings my to my final point, which is the namesake for this blog…

The definition of an adult is fictional. The author of this provocative speech on a piece of paper on a window is speaking of sexualizing young girls, but just as I am a sexual being now, I was a sexual being at the age of 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. The only difference between my at 13 and me at 25 lies in the fact that I now have to buy my own food and pay bills, along with some actual hard and fast sexual experience I found along the way. My pattern of speech may be more polished now, but had I not been probably too-logical about love and lust at such a young age, I would have totally gotten it on with anyone. Middleschoolers. Highschoolers. College guys. They were all super-sexy and I lusted after all of them. If our government didn’t have this arbitrary line that says you’re an adult at 18 (ish), I firmly believe that people would reach “adulthood” at their own paces. There is precedence for 13 and 14 year old girls getting married off, and while I bet they would have liked more say in the matter of who, I could say that I knew who I was and what I wanted at that age.

We get jaded as we get older. The bills and the work and having to wear pants…it screws with us. We forget that we have been horny over-sexualized little beings since we hit puberty. 10 years later, friends can’t tell the difference between pictures of me now and pictures of me at 15, and what does that tell you? That sexualizing me now is also sexualizing me at 15, which is apparently wrong? I can’t say on good conscience that finding a 16 year old girl physically attractive is wrong. The only thing that could be wrong is what happens next.

Do you firmly believe I’m crazy yet? How do you feel about that simple, yet extremely provocative sign? Adulthood…do you think its a myth? Why must we put men down in order to bring women up?

Safe Dating – What is it?

19 Mar

Safety. For whatever reason, it isn’t something I ever consciously think about. I’m not sure why…it could be that I’m just so clumsy safety precautions don’t seem to be useful.

I’m not even sure if I know what “safe” is sometimes.

I’ve decided to try an online dating site, and perform a sort of social experiment in the meantime, that is focused on the date more than the person. It takes the pressure off, which I like. Basically, I make up a date, and if someone thinks it would be fun, they connect with me. If someone else makes up a date I think would be fun, I connect with them. Simple.

Except…what makes a “safe” date? Dinner and a movie? Boring.

What about going for a drive with someone? They always say to not pick up hitch-hikers. Or going to someone’s house? You are only one step away from being held hostage in their basement.

These things don’t scare me, but I wonder if they should.

What is acceptable territory for going on a date with someone you’ve never? What would you steer clear of doing? If you partake in something a little more risky, what safety measures do you increase to combat that?

An Open Letter to Any Guy That’s Sent Me A Dick Pic (NSFW, Obviously)

18 Feb

Ever. Or wanted to send me a dick pic. Or has sent any other woman an unsolicited picture of your genitalia. To any guy that has whipped out his dong in front of me. And any dude who thought it was okay to tell me any number of reasons why I needed his penis in or around my body. 

 

Dear member of the male sex,

One could only hope to call you a gentleman, because for the aforementioned reasons I guarantee that you are not, in fact, a gentleman.

My only fault in this weird, I-say-hi-and-you-respond-by-showing-me-your-wiener relationship was trying to create an atmosphere that you could express yourself, without fear of judgment. Without fear of condemnation or exile.

I was wrong. I know that now.

You could have sent me a tasteful picture of your tattoo, or a nice selfie of you and your dog (or cat *swoon*), or even a mirror-picture of you lifting up your shirt in  your bathroom. Any of those would have gotten me off more quickly than a picture of that dangly thing between your legs. And let me just say, no woman on earth needs a picture of a limp dick. Ever. That’s not even last on the list of things we want a surprise picture of. It didn’t even make the list, actually.

I’ll also say that the phrase “What’s up?”, however tempting, is not an invitation for you to immediately send a picture of your boner to me.  Nor is “Whew. I thought that was going to be a dick pic”.

As I admit fault to you, I will acknowledge that I may have also been lying to myself. I should have been the judgmental bitch God created me as, so I’ll say this: Yes, your fantasies are weird. No, I don’t like it. Your dong isn’t any more exciting than any other dudes dong. If I wanted to touch it, this wouldn’t be a text conversation. No, your penis is not the biggest penis I’ve ever seen. Yes, it could be the smallest.  Your massive untamed bush isn’t helping anything. To the boyfriends – I don’t appreciate the sentiment. 

And my ass? It is perfectly able to be handled by folks other than long, strong, black men. Free tip: opening doors, complimenting me, saying please and thank you, and taking a genuine interest in my hobbies is a great way to handle this ass (note: I said nothing about length, strength, or monochromatism, however, being a man is a requirement for handling this ass).

P.S. I have retained copies of every cock-ridden text I’ve ever received, just in case you piss me off at some point in the future.

Forever yours,
Not-interested-in-your-disembodied-dong

Aside 2 Dec

That moment all you want to say is “I’m busy hemorrhaging from my vagina right now, go away!!!”

The Numbers of Finding “The One”

1 Dec

Out of a whim, and the fact that I am so over being single, I decided to look up the average number of men a woman dates before finding “the one”. And let’s face it – dating sucks! At least, from my perspective. I don’t like meeting new people, I don’t like feeling rejected, and I don’t like being vulnerable.

The number: not so simple.

The numbers I found all seem to be referencing the same study, done in the UK. But they break the numbers down, so it isn’t necessarily an even “10 people”. This is what that looks like:

  • Kisses with 15 men.
  • Two long-term relationships.
  • Heartbreak, twice.
  • Seven dates, plus two blind dates and two dates with someone from the Internet.
  • Four disaster dates.
  • Being stood up once.
  • One live-in relationship.
  • Four one-night stands.
  • Seven sexual partners.

Soooooo…apparently I’m lacking. If I take my first kiss, which happened 8 years ago…and we just go off of kisses…it’s going to be 12 years before I get married.

Good thing life doesn’t happen so precisely.

My list looks a little more like this:

  • Kissed 6 men.
  • Two long-term relationships.
  • Heartbreak…umm…like…my heart hurts? Twice? 3 Times? Like…I was in a relationship and we broke up and I was devastated? Once. Like…I liked someone or was in a relationship with someone and got rejected and felt sad? Who even knows.
  • Umm…2 dates? Maybe? Neither of them might have counted… plus one blind dates, which I also don’t know if it was a date…and…I dated someone from a book…not the internet, though. But that was the same guy as the blind date…I guess…
  • No disaster dates, unless you count on being on a bus or in a car with a stranger a date…
  • Been stood up [almost] once.
  • One live-in relationship, I think? Does living together, then starting to date count? It wasn’t really planned…
  • One, one night stand.
  • Zero sexual partners? Are we talking sexually intimate, or are we talked full on ‘he put his penis in my vagina’ sexual partners?

Sounds like I’m a little behind. Hopefully not 12 years behind, and hopefully I don’t have to kiss another 9 men, have 3 more one-night stands, OR have seven more sexual partners before I meet my husband.

That sounds like a lot of work. Too much work.

How do your numbers compare? What were your numbers like (if you’re already married)? Do you think there could be statistically significant differences between the UK and the US?