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coluber-constrictor-foxii · 8 months

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Thinking about parallels between Ushiromiya moms.

I never think about Kyrie, so I'll focus on parallels between Natsuhi and Eva here because i had this thought for a while. if you have something to add about Kyrie, be my guest.

I'm thinking about how they could've been allies very easily, but can't be because they still, to some degree, believe in patriarchy.

The root of their internal and external conflicts is sexism and patriarchy, Natsuhi was treated and targeted as property and literal trophy by Kinzo because she's a woman (her family had to kind of... sell her to Kinzo... to save the rest of the family...), she's not respected by Krause much because she's a woman, she struggled a lot with accepting Lion because she was taught and told that's she's a failure as woman for being unable to give birth.

And Eva wanted to be acknowledged by Kinzo/still wants to be a successor but not allowed that because she's a woman, she constantly was reminded by Krause that he's successor because he's first child and man, so no matter what Eva do she cannot win successor position and kinzo affection (if she wanted it at that point, it's complicated to me how much her desire for successor title stems from wanting to have power and being ambitious, or wanting to be approved by kinzo and genuinely thinking she could help the family).

Yeah, out of the context of their relationship, you could think that they really could bond over all of the suffering from sexism that they're endured, but no, actually they're not friends because patriarchy :(

Natsuhi upholds gender norms and trying to make Jessica behaving the way that just not comfortable for her. Throughout the series it's highlighted numerous times, that Natsuhi (and Krause) trying to make Jessica talk in feminine way. Eva still trying to get title of the Ushiromiya head, but at that moment not because "woman can be head of the family!" but rather "i deserve to be a head of the family even though I'm a woman". She internalised all sexist and misogynistic messages but her goal haven't changed. She belittle Natsuhi, Rosa, Shannon etc, using sexist insults, that she herself was victim, to harm other women. She trying to uphold herself by tearing other women down........#girboss

(Also worth noting here, Natsuhi being strict with Jessica partially because worrying that Eva make George steal Jessica's title, which like, Jessica don't want that title to begin with, but any way, it is worth to remember that that Natsuhi could've been much softer if she didn't feel pressure of Ushiromiya family title as a whole and Jessica's future responsibilities, and wasn't constantly attacked by Eva about Jessica's behaviour. Eva trying to actively force George to be a family successor for her own revenge, and i don't have much to say about it, except that she do want George to be happy, she just......very........confused.....)

They really work for me as parallels, Natsuhi's core reason and motivation for all her actions it's a wholehearted devotion to her family, which is very yamato nadeshiko (Japanese traditional wife), while Eva being copybook definition of girboss. Both outcomes of sexism, both born as the way to cope and make sense of it (patriarchy), and both clashes off eachother when met.

[ Girlboss is a neologism which denotes a woman "whose success is defined in opposition to the masculine business world in which she swims upstream". She's the confident and capable woman who is successful in her career, or the one who pursues her own ambitions, instead of working for others or otherwise settling in life. The term is conversely used with sarcastic and pejorative undertones, to denote women who attempt to raise their professional lives by practicing the same abusive and materialistic practices found in the patriarchal society. ] <- tell me this isn't Eva.

If you still reading this, thank you, and now i can finally write the reason why i started writing it, a little fun detail.

This page.

[Short id of the situation/ Natsuhi telling everyone to stay in the room, since she believes culprit is outside. Eva agrees, formulating it in a "it's better if we watch eachother in this room"way, because Eva believes culprit is inside this very room]

This. The way they drawn reminded me of Ange's line. I don't remember it word by word but something among the lines: "you can't see things with one eye, you need to look from different angles, form different perspectives. One eye is affirming, another judging, that way you can see the witch."

And it just further make me see them as parallels. Natsuhi is affirming, because she trusts the family and the servants to the last, she can no longer ignore the evidence when she has to protect Jessica, and even then she apologizes since part of her believes that they are innocent. Eva is judgmental because she's suspicious of literally everyone except for those she deems too weak to be a threat or a few trusted ones. It's the matter of trust/"love", Natsuhi trust/"love" quite everyone, which is easy to see in first game, when it obviously painful for Natsuhi to suspect them, at the same time, she trust family significantly more, and trust them literally to the moment she killed, even though she acknowledging that they're greedy and almost shot Eva. Eva, on other hand, default mode is distrust and suspicion, i can't even name any of times, there's too much of them.

My point: patriarchy sucks for everyone (women&men) and they portraying the different ways to live with that. Also, Natsuhi cool.

#umineko #Natsuhi Ushiromiya #eva ushiromiya #umineko spoilers #to some degree #idk if i can call it analysis #thoughts about umi #Natsuhi cool #that's all #that's all thoughts #coluber post

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superfluffychickens · 1 year

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it's a damn shame that all the chicken enthusiasts on this site are closet mra's. thought you were different

Omg, my first hate mail, thank you so much!

It literally says TERFS DNI on my header, I know some people post that just for show and don’t actually care, but seriously. Honestly it shouldn’t be surprising that you bigots like violating people’s boundaries. But here, I’ll say it loud and clear:

Trans women are women, trans men are men, NB people are NB, and TERFs are happy to hold hands with conservative evangelicals if it means fucking over trans people. Also apparently this needs to be said because apparently I fell asleep in 2022 and woke up in fucking 2013, but men are people too, and they’re not inherently bad, predatory, or evil just for existing. There are men who are marginalized and victimized, maybe not necessarily because they’re men, but being a man doesn’t protect you from racism, homophobia, ableism, etc. I think TERFs like pretending that all men are oppressors because it absolves them of their own ability to oppress others. Sure, let’s tear down the patriarchy, but let’s not install a new kind of tyranny in its place - just another system in which what kind of genitals you were born with determines whether you’re good or evil, a predator or a victim. Let’s let our actions and beliefs - things we can actually choose - speak for us instead. If that makes me a “closet MRA” in the eyes of a TERF that’s fine with me.

Also want to say how proud I am to be part of such a cool community of chicken-keepers that TERFs are wholly unwelcome in!

#not chickens

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joannechocolat · 3 years

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White feminists, I’m looking at you.

Another week, another raft of Press articles by self-professed white “feminists”, defending their own prejudice by bashing other women. It’s as if they can’t stop themselves, these women of a certain age, a certain class and a (very) certain privilege, who seem quite happy to see women abused, as long as those women are different from their own privileged circle of friends.

These are the women who “don’t see” race, and who think that counts as a virtue.

These are the women who “don’t see” class, or disability, or neurodiversity, or gender, except perhaps for that one friend, who represents all others, and will be used as proof of their tolerance and lack of prejudice whenever the question arises.

These are the women I interact with every day, many of whom I think of as being decent, well-meaning people.

But in actual fact, not seeing race (or gender, or class, or disability) just means you don’t see your own prejudice. I get it: it’s very convenient not to be able to see how one’s privilege impacts on others. Because as soon as you can see that, things start to get uncomfortable. Criticisms people make of you start to seem more justified. It becomes harder and harder to hide behind your comforting circle of friends - all of whom are telling you that you’re right, you’re good, you’re kind, in fact, you’re the real victim if ever your prejudices are called out– your friends, who think just like you.

But here’s the thing. We’re all privileged. We all have unconscious bias. Just because we’re women in a patriarchal society, doesn’t mean we’re not capable of punching down at someone more vulnerable, or causing another person – or group of people - to do so. And let’s face it; those people are usually men. Misogyny loves it when women attack other women. And it’s intersectional. Look closer, and you’ll find how often it leads to racism, ableism and transphobia.

I’m looking at you, white feminists. Using the patriarchy to confirm your own social and racial prejudices, rather than hearing the voices of those women who most need your support. Women of colour. Trans women. (And no, I’m not going to let you deflect by arguing about what exactly makes a woman – there are plenty of people who have done that. Read them if you want to.) What really matters is not whether someone looks or thinks or behaves like you. What really matters is who suffers harm, and who benefits from your actions.

Women are in a majority. Sometimes we forget this. We fight against sexism and prejudice as if we were a minority group. We’re not – or at least, we wouldn’t be, if we didn’t keep splitting into factions, attacking each other, then looking all surprised when the patriarchy keeps rolling on, harming women everywhere. And the saddest part is that we have so much potential energy. If only that energy were directed to bashing the actual patriarchy, rather than by heaping blame upon the women who are its victims, we might be making progress instead of tearing each other apart.

I’m looking at you, white feminists. I know how angry you must feel when people call you prejudiced. I know you’re used to the moral high ground, to the feeling that you’re the real victims of a system that’s loaded against you. And I know that when people call you racist, or ableist, or transphobic, it feels like abuse. It feels that way because you’ve never really considered your privilege in all this. You’ve never really considered the impact your words – amplified by social media, or published in the national Press - might have on real-life people.

You really need to do that. And no, it isn’t easy. First, you have to suppress that urge you have to tell the world that you’re special and different, and therefore have no unconscious prejudice. You’re not, and you do. The fact that you don’t think you have any is precisely because it’s unconscious prejudice. Unconscious prejudice is like a black hole: only detectable through its actions. And if your actions cause POC harm - or trans people, or autistic people, or any other marginalized group likely to receive abuse, or worse, because of something you said, or did – then you need to understand what you did, and acknowledge it.

The first and most important thing is to understand is that this isn’t about you. Too many people fixate on whether or not they’re really racist (or sexist, or ableist, or transphobic) instead of looking further. I get it. It’s easier to focus on the words and what they mean, rather than the reason they were used in the first place. So stop thinking about the words, and think about what you did, instead. Consider whether you said or did something that was harmful. You’re not in the best position to judge. (Unconscious bias, remember?) So listen to your critics. Instead of feeling offended that someone used an ugly word, ask yourself why they used it. Look at their reasons, not yours. Understand their perspective.

That means first putting aside all your excuses and justifications. This isn’t about you, remember? No-one cares why you made a mistake. You might have done it by accident. You might have done it out of ignorance. You might have stuff going on in your life that made you careless or vulnerable. But this isn’t about you. No-one cares why you caused harm. All that matters is that you did. The harm might be direct – causing offense to someone through your words or actions – or indirect – for instance, reinforcing harmful stereotypes, or attracting the kind of negative attention that might result in trolling, doxxing or violence.

Whatever it was, if that happens, the first thing to do is to acknowledge it. Own it without making excuses, or arguing over semantics, or talking about your feelings, or making the process about you.

And no, it isn’t easy. It involves centring the conversation around someone other than you. You may not be used to doing this. It may make you feel uncomfortable. It may even upset you. But remember, this isn’t about how you feel. The fact that you’re instinctively trying to make this about you, even now, should be telling you something.

So yes, get over your feelings. If you said or did something that’s likely to cause harm to someone, own it. Educate yourself. Apologize. Move on, with a greater awareness of what you need to do to improve. That’s all. We’re none of us perfect: we all make mistakes. But when we do, we need to put ego aside, and try to stop repeating them.

Only then will feminism stop tearing itself apart. Only then will feminism be truly deserving of the name - when white women finally understand that if they continue to support and care for only the women who look and think as they do, then the patriarchy wins, and that they are doing its work.

White feminists, I’m looking at you.

White feminists, I’m looking at me.

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ratingtheframe · 3 years

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Everything wrong with... Ep 3 - Pretty Woman

*sigh* *big sigh*. I’m back here giving you another politically charged review of a film I like to call a femmeçade:

Femmeçade /fɛm//fəˈsɑːd/ noun noun: femmeçade; plural noun: femmeçades; 1. A genre of films directed by men that forefront yet misinterpret the female narrative and representation on screen. "Pretty Woman is the worst femmeçade of them all in the way it depicts women as the lesser gender" (definition by yours truly).

I have to say, I have never felt more compelled, more angry in my entire life to write such a review and tear this film down until there is nothing left but the underlining, prominent misogynistic aspects of this film. I am talking about the 1990s classic, Pretty Woman starring Richard Gere and Julia Roberts. Now a musical, the film has survived three waves of feminism (if you count MeToo), and yet is still available to access for our entertainment. Even though censorship is less common in the Western World, the only good thing about watching Pretty Woman would be to see how vile and unacceptable it is in the eyes of our modern and ever changing society. It truly brought tears of anger to my eyes to watch such a film and see how its lead was shoved into the spotlight for a round or two of humiliation and prodding by the fingers and eyes of the male gaze. There is A LOT to go through here, so grab a snack and buckle in as I put Pretty Woman to shame.

Let's just start with the title itself Pretty Woman, a pretty lazy title for a film if you ask me. I understand it does what it says on the tin, like any title should, however the irksome thing about the film and title is what it’s selling. The lust and beauty of Julia Roberts as opposed to her character or story for that matter. Stood alongside Richard Gere in thigh high boots with her legs for days, months and years on show. We get it, Julia Roberts is a beauty, but why does a film have to focus on that sole part of her? By doing this it creates the idea that it’s her only asset and BOY does this film do a good job at reminding us just that. They’ve got the man’s vote and supposedly the woman’s seeing as the story is about them or who they’d like to be. WRONG, seeing as the crew behind Pretty Women were mostly men themselves. The writers, cinematographer, director, producers, best boys and gaffers, you name it. So who was this film for if it wasn’t to satisfy at least it's mostly male crew members?

Male satisfaction are the appropriate words to use when we are introduced to our leading lady in close up shots of her bra and knickers. Vivian is played by the highly talented and ordained Julia Roberts. Ever since seeing Erin Brodkovich which bagged her an Oscar in 2001, I’ve been in love with her spirit and confidence on screen. As we all know she is certainly one of Hollywood’s shiniest stars, up there with the elites like Meryl Streep, Viola Davis and Angelina Jolie. Why she decided to sign onto such a film, I would hate to speculate seeing as Feminism was more of a dirty secret than a positive movement back in the 1990s. Many (mostly men, though women too, especially those in the film business) would accuse the movement of threatening the comfortability and fun out of life’s pleasures, like women wearing makeup, dresses and being groped at office parties (sarcasm). However, as we now know, feminism isn’t the demon that the 1990s tried to make it out to be and I hope that Julia Roberts was unaware of feminism back then rather than being a strong opposer of it.

Vivian Ward is a hooker living and working on the streets of LA, the city of dreams as some may brandish it. She lives with her roommate Kit (Laura San Giacomo) and between them they spend their nights trying to scrape enough money for their rent. I’m glad that sex work isn’t as scrutinised as it was back then and another arresting aspect of Pretty Woman is the way it depicts the so called “atrocities” of being a sex worker. The propriety and haughtiness of those who laid eyes upon Kit or Vivian was degrading and dehumanising, simply because they choose to lead a different lifestyle to those around them. It seemed so archaic, almost Victorian like the way people ogled and gazed upon Vivian at the hotel where she was taken in by her male counterpart. Pretty Woman again proves itself to be an anti-feminsit horror show for shaming women on choosing what to do with their own bodies and how they dress. We need to cut this BS out of society ASAP that women dress in certain ways to attract the attention of the opposite sex. Clothes are a form of expression and 9 times out of 10, that expression hasn’t anything to do with wanting to be leered at in public. Enough with the victim shaming as well; asking women what they wore when they were sexually assaulted. Instead let's ask what the attackers were THINKING when they decided to prey on an innocent victim....

One night whilst Vivan is looking for clients, she meets the so called delectable and mouth droppingly handsome male lead that is Edward Lewis, played by Richard Gere. I didn’t get the hype at all as I felt Vivan to have enough personality and lust for life to fill both of her and Richard Gere’s character. Edward Lewis was wooden, stern and boring, and despite this, Vivian seems to see more in him beyond her usual hookups. That’s another irritating thing about Pretty Woman. Edward Lewis didn’t have to do FUCK ALL to prove his love or worthiness in the life of Vivian.

He didn’t have to (nor did) change one thing about himself throughout the entire film and that’s not only extremely sexist, but shit filmmaking. Did the writer of completely forget or give up on Edward Lewis’ character arc whilst he was too busy making drooling over Vivian? All Edward Lewis had to do was wave his card around and POOF Vivian was at his knees. No wonder the 1990s shamed feminists because this is the exact sort of crap they were trying to prevent from happening on screen. It may seem like fun and games when Edward Lewis tells Vivian to go shopping, buy herself a new dress for dinner, but in reality this is just a fresh case of misogyny, served up with a side of degradation and bigotry for dessert.

Edward Lewis goes as far to hire Vivian for the week as his...escort? His actual motive isn’t known and we are left as an audience to conclude that it’s because she’s pretty. Again, selling the film title through and through and deminishing the worth of women with each scene. Vivian is never actually asked what she wants, nor do we get to know her seeing as Edward’s inflated ego and wallet covers up most of the screen time whilst watching this film. If you didn’t think this film could get any more horrific is the age gap between Julia Roberts and Richard Gere at the time of filming, to which Roberts was 22 and Gere, 40.

One moment in particular that proved this film to have zero substance to it, is when Vivian eventually gets down on Edward and to my absolute horror, her bra strap is INCREDIBLY and shockingly inauthentically loose. Like falling off loose. Not one woman in the world who chooses to wear a bra; not in China, India, Pakistan, the U.S, Ukraine, Hooker, doctor, astronaut, teacher, hairdresser or not would ever EVER wear their bra strap so loose. An impractical and uncomfortable choice, this tiny infinitesimal yet significant part of this film showed that this film doesn’t care or know how to show accurate female representation on screen and goes against any sense of providing women with strong characters they can use as role models. And all from one bra strap.

The shopping and transformation part to this film had to be the big red thumb that stood out the most from the eternity of this film as AGAIN for the fifteenth time this film has proved itself to be in favour of entertaining those who like to ogle at Vivian as opposed to getting to know her. Edward thrusts his card at her once again (without giving her much choice, a common behavioural pattern associated with sociopaths and abusers) and she goes to Rodeo Drive to essentially pretty herself up for him so that Edward isn’t judged by those he introduces Vivian to.

When Vivian had attempted to go shopping alone on Rodeo Drive in her casual attire, the female employees of one of the stores behaved abominably towards her, classing her as someone who didn’t have the means or appearance to shop in such a place. This film just got even worse as not only do we have the opposite gender dictating the appearance of women, we’re having our own sisters do the same whilst investing in the patriarchal narrative of the way women should be seen in public. At this point you may think I’m going crazy and repeating myself, of which I am doing both, however once you’ve fully taken the time to wake up and smell the patriarchy’s cup of coffee, there’s no turning back. These details become smoke signals that turn into epiphanies and realisations that have you questioning is this really okay? And a Pretty Woman is NOT okay.

Once Vivian has had her transformation (so kindly afforded by the dominant Edward Lewis) she seemingly begins to enjoy her new life as a piece on the side, until she is presented with Edward’s lawyer, Philip Stuckley.

So here’s what we have so far on our checklist of misogyny and anti-feminsit motifs to Pretty Women

A poster and title created in the eye of the male gaze CHECK

A female character whose worth is based on her desirability and propriety CHECK

A mediocre white man who doesn’t progress and gets his way through charm, money and power CHECK

Women who take unkindly to other women because they don’t fit the normalised standards of the patriarchy CHECK

Shaming women for their dress sense and career choices CHECK

Lack of women in general, most of which don’t speak throughout the film CHECK

The list could go on but another motif to add to the list from this film that acts as big shiny wrecking ball that smashes up feminism and leaves its values in the dust is sexual assault. Or attempted sexual assault at that, as when we see Phillip Stuckley’s first interaction with Vivian he says right out that he knows she’s a hooker, whilst running the edge of his sunglasses down Vivian’s arm and suggesting they get together after Edward’s demise back to wherever he came from. EW, this was one of the many moments of the film where I had to swallow my vomit. Phillip attempts to rape Vivian back at Edward’s penthouse suite, when luckily Edward comes in to stop it happening, which was the most decent thing he did the entire film. Edward’s lawyer represented a hoard of men that existed back then and now who feel entitled to a woman’s body, hooker or not. Even though Pretty Woman had dug itself a big enough hole, by the time I got to this part of the film I had been sold on the idea that this film is completely out of line with women’s liberation and empowerment. It’s just one big game to prod and poke at women, seeing how far they can go, which in itself is a metaphor for sexual assault.

I’ll wrap up on the lack of diversity in Pretty Women. Because the world affords white men and women more luxuries and privileges than people of colour, they were at the forefront of this story whilst black and asian minorities were put in the background as butlers, maids and chauffeurs. It makes me so angry that on top of being a whirlwind of misogyny and sexism that such a film would have the audacity to misrepresent minorities entirely and highlight their so called use as servicing white people. IT. IS. GETTING. OLD.

Hopefully you’ve made it to the end of this “review” (kinda) and seen the damaging implications such a film has on our society. On reading Feminists Don’t Wear Pink and Other Lies curated by Scareltt Curtis, I read that “Books and things reflect what’s happening in the world, Hollywood movies DICTATE IT and MOULD what people think”.

You may think movies don’t matter or a film of the 1990s doesn’t matter, but if we are to learn from our mistakes and progress our movements, we must unpick the past and see it for how it was. Movies are our culture, our representation of what we’ve learnt or seen in the world. I don’t want to see women as sexual objects without their permission. I don’t want to see them being moulded by the patriarchy or by women who support it. I don't want to see women only good enough to be hookers, wives or mistresses. I want women to be the strongest versions of themselves and for films to buckle up and show that shit on screen.

Pretty Woman can kiss my ass and if it’s a film you like in unlike it. Pronto.

#prettywoman #julia roberts #richardgere #movies #hollywoodmovies #90smovies #romcom #cinema #feminism #everyday feminism #feminist

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thecloserkin · 5 years

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book review: Marian Veevers, Jane & Dorothy (2018)

Genre: Biography

Is it the main pairing: Yes

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: No

Is it endgame: No

Is it shippable: Yes

Bottom line: Y’all fools: Stanning Lord Byron and his half-sister Augusta whom he didn’t even meet until he was nearly grown, never mind whether he actually knocked her up. Me, an intellectual: William and Dorothy Wordsworth are right there, eloping to the countryside and spending the rest of their days holed up in a picturesque cottage composing poetry.

First let’s have a detour where I yell about Crimson Peak (2015, dir. Guillermo del Toro). A few of the recent asks about incest vs. the patriarchy got me thinking about this line from Jane & Dorothy: “the malevolent power of married women over their spinsters-in-law.” Between the wife and the unmarried sister it’s obvious who has more power and it’s clearly not the spinster sister-in-law—and yet Guillermo del Toro would have us believe that Edith in Crimson Peak is helpless before Lucille’s resistance to giving up the skeleton key (the one that opens every room in the house). Edith is made out to be the victim of Lucille’s bloodthirsty unhinged jealousy, when she’s not only THE WIFE she’s got ALL THE MONEY, she’s literally holding all the cards??? It doesn’t add up. This biography is the antidote to that. It looks at the paucity of options open to your average 19th century girl who just wants a Room of One’s Own to write in, and situates her bid for freedom in the context of having no good options. The trouble with “Crimson Peak” was not that Edith wasn’t relatable or that I didn’t identify with her; when Thomas tears her down in that faux-breakup speech he attacks her on the terrain where she’s most vulnerable, her abilities as a writer. The trouble with Crimson Peak was that this beat would have hit so much harder had it landed on Lucille, a woman who’s WAY more vulnerable than Edith by dint of having (1) no marriage prospects and (2) no inheritance. Without Thomas this bitch has (3) no survival strategy either! Otoh take away Thomas and Edith is still left with her dad’s $$$, Edith still has Alan waiting in the wings to swoop in & save her, in other words Edith will be just fine. No wonder Lucille feels so threatened!! The situations are not even comparable. Here then is Jane & Dorothy which offers two case studies of women whose impulse to write & create was just as strong as Edith’s, but whose plight was much closer to Lucille’s ie. precarious as fuck.

I picked this book up because it’s actually a dual biography of Dorothy Wordsworth and Jane Austen, and I’m a basic bitch and Jane Austen is my eternal favorite. I’m going to focus on the Dorothy chapters but rest assured I read the Jane chapters with equal gusto. Jane Austen (b. 1775) and Dorothy Wordsworth (b. 1771) were both born into the British pseudo-gentry, which means they were too highborn to go and get a paying gig as a governess or companion but not highborn enough to have any independent source of income (neither of them had a dowry settled on them). While the two women never crossed paths, the arcs of their lives run in parallel as they pursue divergent strategies to secure their futures. So the primary imperative here is to avoid a life of domestic drudgery. But the secondary imperative, because these are both perceptive girls with rich inner lives, is this:

For an intelligent woman, confined to a society which denies her higher education and restricts her existence largely to the home, the male companion with whom she shares her life is her chief provider, not only of security and affection, but of intellectual stimulation.

This is a popular romance novel plot, do I want to marry a man who is a bore (possibly also a boor) or do I want to starve hmmmm. The point is that women are frequently starved for both affection and intellectual stimulation, and it’s little wonder Dorothy fell so hard for her brother William when he showered her with both. Dorothy and William were separated as children when, after the death of their mother, she was sent to live with an aunt in West Yorkshire (she was seven, he was eight). Nine years later they reconnected and sparks flew almost immediately. I mean I think their letters speak for themselves:

”the last time we were Together William won my Affection to a Degree which I cannot describe.”

What kind of brother needs to “win” his sister’s affection? Most of them treat sisters like furniture.

”Never have my eyes burst upon a scene of particular loveliness,” he wrote, “but I have wished that you could be transported to the place where I stood to enjoy it.”

standard “everything beautiful either reminds me of you, or makes me want to share it with you” pablum but EXTREMELY effective for all that

but enough he is my brother, why should I describe him? I shall be launching again into panegyric

Dorothy: hahaha but don’t you think my brother was looking mighty fiiiiiine today

”his attentions to me were such as the most insensible of mortals must have been touched with”

”I assure you so eager is my desire to see you that all obstacles vanish. I see you in a moment running or rather flying to my arms.”

That letter is from William, and you have to remember that William was supposed to be a huge dick who routinely ignored his friends’ missives leaving them in suspense whether he was alive or dead and yet he managed a lively & regular correspondence with Dorothy for years before they moved in together. It’s almost like he treated her … special.

”that sympathy which will almost identify us when we have stole to our little cottage”

These kids are already plotting their elopement jfc! Here are some snippets from Dorothy’s diary from much later, after they have in fact achieved The Dream of their own cottage:

”After dinner we made a pillow of my shoulder, I read to him and my Beloved slept.”

”The fire flutters and the watch ticks and I hear nothing save the Breathing of my Beloved and he now and then pushes his book forward and turns over a leaf.” It is a picture of domestic contentment such as Jane Austen draws to portray a genuinely happy marriage.

”After we came in we sat in deep silence at the window — I on a chair and William with his hand on my shoulder. We were deep in Silence and love, a blessed hour.”

This is literally #goals. Veevers points out that “the conflation of marriage with home, spinsterhood with insecurity” meant that “William was promising the kind of permanence and safety which women usually found in marriage.” Dorothy really thought she could Have It All: a home of her own and a rich, stimulating intellectual life shared with the man she loved. And she proceeded to spend the rest of her life making fair copies of his poems. Hell, she pushed him to be a poet in the first place (it was not at all clear initially that this was the best plan for William, who could just have easily have embarked on a career as a political polemicist, but it was Dorothy who pushed him to be a poet, Dorothy who spent the rest of her life copying out his verses in her fairer hand). Early on Dorothy & William befriended the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who was so envious of their bond that he complained, “You have all in each other, but I am lonely, and want you!” Can you b e l i e v e Coleridge actually said that. If one of you hoes doesn’t write me the William/Dorothy Historical RPF that’s Coleridge Outsider POV I s2g I will do my damnedest to die of consumption.

Veveers sums it up this way: “It was a relationship few women would be able to have with their husbands, for, at the time, the two sexes were expected to inhabit different mental landscapes.” To put it bluntly women had ovaries instead of brains; they just weren’t interested in the same stuff a man was. Otoh you have William and Dorothy Wordsworth, actual soulmates: the historical consensus is there is “some uncertainty as to whether she would be best described as muse, emotional support, secretary or co-author.” And she didn’t hide it, either. This is where you really see the difference between Dorothy, who is so open, and Austen heroines like Eleanor Dashwood (Sense & Sensibility), Fanny Price (Mansfield Park) or Anne Eliot (Persuasion) who also feel things deeply but had to regulate the bejeezus out of their emotional responses. This is Dorothy:

After any separation her joy at meeting her brother again was uncontrollable. “I believe I screamed,” she admitted on one occasion when there were witnesses.

Uncontrollable screaming in front of witnesses every time she’s reunited with her brother??? WE STAN. This is how low Dorothy’s spirits sink whenever he’s gone:

”I slept in Wm.’s bed, and I slept badly, for my thoughts were full of William.”

adkfjdkfjdkfjdk I just want to add that when William is home the floorboards are so thin that she can hear him pacing in the bedroom above hers, so his insomnia keeps both of them up at night but she doesn’t mind, she can’t sleep until he falls asleep, she would probably give up a kidney or a lung if she thought it would sell 500 more copies for him. I’m torn between GIRL HE AIN’T WORTH IT and stanning her even harder for being so ride or die on any topic that touches her brother (later, when he has kids, she decides William’s kids are smarter and better-looking than everyone else’s kids).

This is the most iconic line in the entire book, from a letter Dorothy writes to an interfering relative who deplores Dorothy’s judgment for throwing in her lot with a penniless failson like William:

”I affirm that I consider the character and virtues of my brother sufficient protection”

The icily scathing tone of the setdown is PERFECTION. But also, this just in your brother abandoned his pregnant Catholic mistress in France. You know this. Yet here you are gallivanting around the countryside in his company. In fact, when he proves too much of a coward to tell your uncle himself about the existence of said pregnant mistress—this is the uncle who funded all of William’s education and reasonably expects some return on it—he delegates Dorothy to break the news. Dorothy also winds up in charge of all correspondence with the poor girl, who writes occasionally asking for a little money or when is William coming back to France to marry me, and it’s Dorothy who has to fob her off. And this whole incident—the revelation of the French mistress, the break with the family, William refusing to take holy orders to become a clergyman—is so pivotal in their relationship! They were close before but this is the irrevocable step when Dorothy decides to join her fate to his. And her motivation could not be clearer:

William’s outspoken affection for her seems to have first aroused a reciprocal love in Dorothy, but it was his fall from grace, his isolation and his need of a friend, which provided the final catalyst that raised her gradually deepening affection into wholehearted, single-minded devotion.

She saw his need and responded almost involuntarily. She is a RESCUER.

Dorothy, was in one way, very fortunate to have fallen in love with her brother. “Rambling around the country on foot” with a slightly disreputable brother might bring down the censure of her more conventional relatives, but it was a good deal safer than rambling about with a man who was not a brother.

This is the kind of behavior that if two unrelated people engaged in it must have resulted in the man being honor-bound to extend an offer of marriage, because a woman has nothing if she doesn’t have her virtue. Two siblings roaming the countryside, picking flowers and wading thru streams and stargazing? My god what PRIME fodder for fake married tropes! Just present yourself at the first inn you come to as a married couple and then guess what? There was only one bed!!!!

at Grasmere “there was an unnatural tale current of Wordsworth … having been intimate with his own sister.”

tell me MOAR omg this is so deliciously Gothic i keep thinking about that line from Wuthering Heights “whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

at Alfoxton, “the master of the house,” it was said, “had no wife with him, but only a woman who passes for his sister.”

PASSES for his sister trololololol like they don’t act the way you’d expect of a brother and sister, like they’re too into each other.

And it was generally accepted that immorality and radical anti-British sentiment went together.

But really William got much more staid and less radical as he got older, and Dorothy was never political because her energies were centered on William William William. On top of which it’s hard to overlook the fact that William would go into Dorothy’s journals and “borrow” her words and publish them verbatim as his own; he felt as entitled to her intellectual labor as her domestic labor, and there is nothing radically egalitarian about that. So I definitely don’t think this is a case where incest is subversive so much as incest illuminating existing hierarchies & oppressions. Veveers writes: “An unmarried woman’s hold on her own time was extremely fragile. She could be made use of in any crisis, transported against her wishes” to fulfill another family members’ needs. Jane Austen’s sister Cassandra evidently shouldered both their weights when it came to this sort of emotional labor: writing letters of thanks & condolence, minding their brothers’ children, calming hypochondriac aunts down, attending births of little nephews & nieces. Cassandra doing all this extra labor gave Jane the space and time to write. Moreover Jane had formed the ambition to write. Dorothy, on the other hand, thought anything worth saying was already being said by William. And she didn’t have her own Cassandra to share the unceasing burden of housework with:

In fact, the domestic labor and childcare that lay ahead of Dorothy were almost indistinguishable from the duties she had escaped at Forncett rectory. But now she was to be living in a home she had chosen, with a man she loved.

Did it matter in the end, Dorothy’s rebellion? If she’d remained a hanger-on in her uncle’s household, living on his charity, her life would not have been outwardly all that different. I have to believe that her choices did matter, of course. It would be easy to sit here and speculate that if Dorothy had not poured all her mental and physical resources into supporting William’s career, she too might have produced another Pride & Prejudice, but naturally we cannot know that. What we know is that Dorothy and William were 100% in love, a fact that anyone with a modicum of reading comprehension can verify by reading their letters. Why is this not more widely discussed? William Wordsworth was not exactly an obscure poet. The explanation, again, comes back to patriarchy:

The idea that Dorothy might have inspired (or felt) desire at Dove Cottage was as abhorrent to mid-20th century academics as it was to gentlemen of the early 19th century … who preferred to think of unmarried women drooping and degenerating after the age of 25, rather than maintaining a subversive and disturbing sexuality.

I wish I could say that William and Dorothy grew old together at Dove Cottage. What actually happened is he got married (she talked him into it—she chose a mutual friend of theirs whom they’d known for ages) and accidentally fell in love with his wife oops. His new wife was neither young nor pretty, in fact she was painfully plain, but that William became genuinely attached to her there can be no doubt. Dorothy continued to live with them and look after their children until her death. So I think we have avoided the worst case scenario, the malevolent-power-of-the-married-woman-ruins-her-spinster-in-law’s-life scenario: This is what happened to Jane Austen when Jane’s father unexpectedly announced his retirement, uprooting Jane and Cassandra from the Steventon rectory where they’d lived all their lives and forcibly removing them to Bath, where Jane was so miserable she did no writing for years. All this upheaval on account of Jane’s brother and his wife wanting the Steventon rectory and its income for their own! The accursed woman was probably measuring the drapes before she’d moved in. Anyway, it is fortunate this open enmity did not characterize Dorothy Wordsworth’s relationship with her sister in law; they were fast friends and they remained friends after the latter’s marriage to William. But instead of William-and-Dorothy forming the nucleus of life at Dove Cottage now it was William-and-Mary, and if this did not sting at least a little Dorothy would not be human. She had been supplanted in William’s heart. I CRY.

Because I’m literal shipper trash I want to end on the bittersweet note of SIBLINGS EXCHANGING RINGS AS A SYMBOL OF COMMITMENT EVEN THO THEY CAN’T LEGALLY GET MARRIED. This is Dorothy’s description of the morning of William and Mary’s wedding, right before they leave the house to attend the ceremony:

”I gave him the wedding ring—with how deep a blessing! I took it from my forefinger where I had worn it the whole of the night before—he slipped it again onto my finger and blessed me fervently.” It might be said that William married her before he married Mary, and that Dorothy was making a promise in that upstairs room try like the one Mary was about to make in church.

it’s been two months since I read this book and i’m STILL SCREECHING byeeeee

#dorothy wordsworth #book review

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my-river-styx · 5 years

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A Big Fuck Off Rant Here Lads, Be Warned This Is About Terfs/Radfems As Well As A Bunch Of Political Stuff

I hate that God awful sinking feeling I get in my gut when I end up on a Terf/transphobic persons blog and I just, realise people that are that desperately hateful exist. I found a blog and was going through it, the name making me think they were trans friendly seeming as they had it in their name, only to become rapidly confused and kinda sick when all their posts were outright seethingly angry and hateful towards trans people. Like, the first few I read I thought I was misunderstanding but the further I got I was like, oh, no, they are a Terf/transphobe or align with their ideals.

I don't have a problem with people having opinions, it's your right to think and say what you want. But what I do have a problem with is you putting that vile hateful shit online where kids, trans or otherwise, can see it. To be fair, kids shouldn't be on Tumblr even after the shitty facade of a purge they did to make it child friendly. However, kids ARE on here and they ARE reading your posts and posts like them. It's how conservatives and other far right and even drastically far left groups manage to keep relevance in our lives despite most people disagreeing with them. It's through feeding kids their crap over and over again, sometimes without them realising or wanting to. It happened when I was a kid but luckily my parents aren't nearly conservative and simply hold similar beliefs in some areas. I grew up thinking those hateful things were right, and okay.

Until I opened my fucking eyes and realised they weren't. That you shouldn't feed children your hateful and poisonous rheteric when they don't understand the situations. I, as a little fucking child, genuinely believed that asylum seekers didn't deserve access to our country because they didn't go through legal channels. My parents offloaded their beliefs onto me and for quite a while I didn't even question it. The news/media in Australia didn't help either. But then I grew the fuck up and realised that I was fed a bunch of shit. That what they were saying was bullshit. That the media was trying to shove that shit into my head because it distracted me from them, and the government and what they were doing. It was to give me a fake enemy so I wouldn't see the very real one right under my nose.

Those people, all people, deserve safety and respect unless they are actively causing harm to others.

The problem is a lot of those children grow up not realising those ideas are old, outdated and toxic to change. That they are media crap designed explicitly to keep your eyes away from the blatant corruption of our world and that it is rapidly being killed. And they vote. And have blogs online where they spew their vile crap for newer generations to see. It's why I wish kids weren't allowed on this site. Because a lot of the crap on here is just that, crap. Shit that doesn't actually have a foothold in the real world or if it does, it's so small that it doesn't matter. Terfs and radfems on Tumblr have a huge foothold and use it to attack trans people just trying to live their fucking lives, not hurting anyone. Trans women especially are the victims of this, trans men less so, though it is still a big deal. Terfs and radfems are so concerned with policing who can do what that they don't police themselves.

Their community supposedly stands for women's rights (and by that they mean cis women because God knows they don't know how to be accepting) but as soon as a cis women comes forward supporting Trans women and trans women lesbians, they are instantly shut down, saying they must be an idiot or they are brainwashed. They only support the people who support them. They don't stand for feminism or women's rights, because if they did they would include trans women BECAUSE THEY ARE WOMEN. No, they just want to support their own little bubble and exclude anyone they don't like, just like we are back in fucking highschool with friendship groups and cliques.

For Trans men, if the terfs and radfems don't just outright dismiss them and call them confused women or women trying to escape the patriarchy, they are infantilized. They see us as women. Not as men. I can't force you to accept trans people and even if I could, I wouldn't want to. The fact you are so critical and hateful only speaks volumes about you as a person, about how you either hate yourself or are so drastically narcissistic that you need mental health assistance. Nobody filled with that much anger and hate for people they don't know and who are not doing anything wrong, is happy in their lives. You reek of low self-esteem and self loathing and I feel sorry that your way of dealing with that is to lash out at trans people instead of taking the time to listen to yourself and heal. It's not a way I wouldn't want anyone to live.

In the real world and not tumblr.hell, radfems and terfs have a much smaller voice. It's there, no doubt, and there are some much louder voices and ideas, but they are rightfully ignored for the fact they are just spewing hate. Anyone who does agree with them is normally a conservative, cis and straight. All things that mean they cannot understand the trans experience, let alone the LGBTQ one. Now, there are a lot of radfem/Terf lesbians, who loathe the idea of trans women in their spaces because "they aren't women, they are men just trying to invade our spaces and take them away". No, they aren't. I'm not a trans women, but I do know a lot about the trans experience on the other end as a trans man. Trust me when I say that trans people do not want to steal your space. They are people who want to find support and comfort within a group of people. Trans women can be lesbians because they are women. Trans men can be gay, because they are men. Hell, it was trans women who pioneered the LGBTQ movement, so you wouldn't have the spaces you do today without them. Learn to break free of your biased thoughts and move towards understanding how to be including and accepting. I don't even begin to understand every facet of the LGBTQ community. So many parts of it confuse me. But it's not my place to tell someone they aren't allowed to identify as something. Unless it is genuinely hurting someone, like pedophiles and maps (which newsflash, despite what terfs and radfems want to pretend and scream, trans women aren't. They just want to fucking pee and shit in the toilet for fuck sales).

So, this whole long 3:15 am insomnia ridden post really boils down to, is this. Try and step out of your bubble. Out of the comfort of your preset ideas on people and the lies and garbage fed to you by the media and even your parents in some cases. Try and understand others or at least take the time to listen instead of blindly attacking like a wounded animal. You are not inherently hateful. You deserve the chance to step out of your little cave and learn that the big bad world isn't out to get you. Trans women aren't trying to invade your spaces, or forces lesbians to date them. Trans men aren't trying to escape the patriarchy or are women haters, or trying to change what being gay means. We are real people deserving of respect. We aren't asking for you to bow at our feet. We are asking you to stop attacking us without reason, to stop listening to the horse shit the media throws out to defame and make us look like the villians. Because while your out here attacking innocent trans people, your getting your rights slowly erroded by a government that doesn't give two shits about you. That is purposely force feeding you garbage through the media to make you complacent and distract you from what's going on. Do you think big bussniess, the thing that bloody runs our governments now, gives a shit about you? About what you think? No, they want to make money. Your a number to them. They blatantly pull the strings of all major governments and take away any right you have to object. They are tearing the planet apart to the point 1/7 people will survive.

The planet is dying, rapidly, and if you stopped worrying about us merely existing and instead turned your attention to the real problems, we could do so much more to fight for our rights.

Your very lively hood, the thing you so vehemently fight for is not only on the line, it's at stake. They are trying to kill us, and your bitching online that a trans women went into the female bathroom to pee like a goddamn human being.

Get your priorities straight.

#transgender #mtf #ftm #radfem #terf #media #global warming #government #rant #look #ive just #got a lot to say

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circlecast · 3 years

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Playing The Victim Means You're Playing to Lose

Join me in helping Operation: Tears of the 22 and their first-time event over at the Byrd Adventure Center in Arkansas. This is happening between August 5-8 and are they ever putting up a bang-up event. There are going to be music and jeep rides on the many trails that span around the heart of the Ozark National Forest. on top of all that, there are going to be some amazing food trucks there to squash any hunger you have. We will also be having an auction where one of the lots is a 3-month coaching package with me!

So join up and let Matt and Rich know that you are going to the event by visiting the event page

Question of the Week by The Brotherhood of Men

How can you instill the understanding early on in a child's life that gang members should not be looked up to as role models and, despite its appealing nature, to walk their path would be a great misfortune?

That is a great question. Now I have a firm belief as to why gangs are so attractive to young people. now I can bash the music. The songs today promote and seem to encourage lots of today's youth to look at gangs in a romanticized manner. There are all the drugs the sense of comradery. you get to have guns and the like. Yet how do you change the hearts and minds of these kids from wanting to join a dead-end street like being in a gang?

To answer that We need to look at what the problem is, that problem is that there is no father in the picture. Thanks to many well-intended government programs the role of needing a father in the house has been diminished. Now when a woman gets pregnant she doesn’t have to turn to the father and say we need to raise this kid together. Instead, they turn to their rich Uncle Sam and he gives them money for food and daycare and rent and everything else that a father is supposed to provide. This keeps the men from having to grow up and face their responsibilities of providing for a family and it keeps the women from having to face their responsibilities that they need to be making better choices with their men.

The people that lose out because of this lack of responsibility are the kids, especially the boys. You have a group of boys who doesn't have any strong masculine guidance in their life, therefore they turn to the closest perceived masculine and that is a bunch of grown boys who are in a gang. So they learn what it means to be a man from a bunch of people who don't know what it really means to be a man. Instead of the dad, who would know best and having that father be a constant presence in their life. These boys now have a bunch of strangers who are saying they have to do this or that to be called a man. When in reality they don't know anything about being a man because they were also taught by a bunch of grown boys instead of a grown man.

So how do we change the minds of these boys thinking that gangs are cool? We get fathers to become involved in their boy's lives. It won't be easy but it is possible. If you don't have kids then start finding ways you can be involved in the lives of boys who don't have fathers. Join up and be a mentor with Big Brothers/Big Sisters. It is a shift in culture which is going to be tough because today's society thinks all the good elements of a successful life are being white. Which the farthest from the truth. So there is a social change that needs to be done. How that is above my pay grade.

Answer requested by Viktor Bondarchuk

Main topic

Today's society is one that they see who can win the race to being the biggest victim. This is why schools have safe spaces. Kids in college want to make sure they can say something without facing the repercussions of their actions. This is one reason the world so so upside down right now. Being a strong masculine man is scored and called out to be the cause of all the good that masculinity does in society.

What is a victim?

A victim is a person who has given up their power to someone or something else. Society is wanting it to mean that there is no blame to be given to the victim. Though many times that person actually got themselves into that predicament. A person was the victim of greedy capitalists. No, that person chose to spend their paycheck on a pair of high-top sneakers and then didn't have enough money for rent.

The poor can't get out of their predicament because the patriarchy won't let them. Again no the poor often made some bad decisions that caused them to be in that environment. They can get back out again if they are willing to change their habits. Yet again you see that the poor supposedly doesn't have any power because of the patriarchy, whatever that is supposed to mean.

Look at people who have been under real oppression. You see that though they are victims of that dictator they eventually decide to take back the power that they gave away and either leave that environment or gather strength and make them change themselves. To say you are a victim is to say you are powerless.

Why the victim never wins

This was touched on earlier, the victim cant win because they don't want their power to be able to change. Many times this means getting out of their comfort zone. The victim has to make a change in who they are or what they believe and doing so can be messy and awkward. They think that it is easier to just sit back and go poor me. Feel sorry for me because I am not able to be successful.

Playing the victim means you are playing life small. You will not take the chances out of fear that you may become victimized even more. Yet this is impossible because you will have your power unless you willfully give it up again.

Another reason that a victim will not be able to win is that nobody actually respects a victim. They pity and feel sorry for a victim but that isn't respect. You see a cancer patient who decided they are going to live every day to the fullest isn't a victim of their environment they are taking their power back and doing what they were afraid to do before. You see a boy who stands against his bigger and stronger bully is taking his power back. If these people were being victims they would simply give up and hand their power over to other people or their condition.

Helping a victim is tiring. There are always emergencies going on, and the powerless victim wants others to put the fire out. When others don't they cry even more victimhood. The person who is helping finally realizes that the victim is actually in the problem because of their own choosing and gives up and lets the victim sit in their own mess. Not because they don't care but because they are tired of sacrificing themselves for someone they don't respect.

How do you stop being the victim?

The biggest way to get out of the victim mindset is to acknowledge that you got yourself into that situation. It wasn't anybody else's fault other than your own. Once you own your dirt and that you had a hand in the scenario then you can start to make the needed changes to clean up your mess.

It isn't easy to change what can be at times years of victim mindset but it is possible. Your power has never left you. Your agency is still sitting in your mind you have to exercise it often and using the help of a coach or a Men's Group

Newest podcast episode to change your Mindset

#Mindset Anxiety RelaxedMale

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mynameisbriggsycakes · 6 years

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“Nobody is That Stupid”

Men are trash.

I say this with a relative amount of experience under my belt and knowing full well that despite this statement, I am undeterred in my quest for that D. That being said, that D still belongs in the bin.

Yesterday I had to take my motorcycle skills evaluation test. For the second time. This was after taking a two-day class during Thanksgiving weekend in which the denouement was saturated with my own frustrated tears. The first day ended with me as gray as the clouds in the sky. I panicked, shut down, and almost burst into tears. The second day took a sheer amount of willpower that I hadn’t tapped into in months for me to return. Not even the instructors expected me to return.They even said so. They are very encouraging people, I swear.

Anyway, along with all the other craziness that I was dealing with, including, but not limited to job relocation, people sucking, my fear of flying to the point of insanity, money, no D, I was obviously under a bit of stress. But while I was so used to crawling back into my misery, as it is warm and familiar, I had to try to get out of it. I had to stop. So I listened to my friends and my counselor this time and turned away from that doubt and tried to pump myself up, get confident, and ace this skills test. I played music, and I even decided to leave a bit earlier so i could be sure to get there on time, under the impression that I could just take the test and leave.

And then...there was Bruce.

Bruce drove a Chevrolet. Bruce had a 4.9 rating on Lyft. And Bruce picked me up at around 12:47 to take me to my test. And Bruce didn’t waste any time.

He immediately offered me some lip gloss that was left by a customer. I politely declined, saying that using a stranger’s lipstick is not the most hygienic thing to be doing. He looked shocked. Then he asked if I heard about the woman who brought a lawsuit against Sephora due to her contracting herpes after trying one of their samples of lipsticks. I did, of course, and he asked for my opinion. I stated that while I do give a personal side-eye for anyone willing to put used lipstick on, it’s still completely irresponsible for Sephora to allow this sort of practice as it defies all common sense. I continue:

Me: And despite the country being very litigation-happy--

Bruce: Especially California.

Me (with internal red alerts humming): --it seems fair that she would sue for damages and her request is reasonable.

Bruce: So let me ask you this.

Me (internally): Please don’t.

Bruce: So I’m trying to return to working in the office, you know, I’ve been doing this for two years and I really want to go back.

Me (internally): Oh, no.

Bruce: So when I go back, I just wanted to know...you know...since there’s gonna be women there..how do I approach them? I mean, ANY one of them, at any time, could complain that they are being sexually harassed.

Me: Uh...that’s not how it works?

Bruce: So let’s say that I get into a relationship with someone at at work, right? It’s consensual and what not, and then it ends. Then she could go to HR and complain that it’s sexual harassment. Any woman could do it.

Me: No. Any woman could not do this.

Bruce: But listen--

Me: Here we go. If you’re asking me personally if I will date someone I work with, the answer is no. I don’t shit where I eat, but with that being said, I know plenty of people who were able to have loving, stable relationships with people they met at their job. They simply have to go to HR and tell them first.

Bruce: I know, but if she goes to complain--

Me: The point of HR is that it protects both parties. If there’s any sway to one side or the other, there is usually a reason. Anything else? (don’t say this ever to a Bruce)

Bruce: (dumb silence is dumb) So what do you think of the Harvey Weinstein scandal?

Note: I figured out later on that his line of questioning is deliberate and I am almost entirely convinced that he probably purchased that lipstick on his own specifically to start this ridiculous conversation with all the women he picks up. This is seven shades of fucked up.

Me (don’t answer don’t answer you are in a trap): I believe the woman and Weinstein is a pig who deserves to go to jail for the rest of his life.

Bruce: Yeah, but NOBODY is that stupid.

Me (snared in the trap): What?

Bruce: If I were a woman, and my boss told me to come up to his hotel in order to discuss business, why would you go? You can chose the hotel bar, the hotel lobby, a restaurant. Why would you go there?

Me (begins to see red): Because men of power have fostered a culture of fear specifically to subjugate women in order to keep them down and to keep the patriarchy alive. The power involved is usually sexual in nature. Women fear that if they do not acquiesce to sexual demands, their lives will be over.

Bruce: But NOBODY is that stupid.

Me (actively She-Hulking out): You’re actually victim-blaming? Are you actually serious right now?

I wanted to get to my class early. I wanted to actually meditate on the course and eliminate all of the fear and anxiety in my heart so I could pass. Instead, I get a sexist, ignorant Lyft driver who unfortunately has all the control in the car and I am now wanting out.

The rest of the time, I just heard more excuse after excuse. And all I could think of was hearing those same words by people who said they loved me and told me it wasn’t the same thing as they molested and tried to rape me.

And I had enough.

Me: You know what? You are part of the problem. All you’ve done is victim blame and make excuses for what is obviously disgusting behavior. I’m getting out of this car and you have a nice day, sir.

I jumped out of the car at a stop light. I didn’t know where I was at first, but thankfully, I was only five minutes away from my destination. He muttered something at me, I’m sure an insult or something, I don’t give a fuck, but he sped away and canceled the ride. I made a mental note to report his ass later, but the damage was done. Instead of coming into my test relaxed and ready to go, I’m now worked up because of the not-so-gentle reminder that men are BASURA.

I went onto the course muttering to myself again, but it wasn’t an anxious muttering. It was more just exhaustion. I just need to remind everyone here that it is almost impossible to be positive in a world so fucked up like this. I am trying...SO HARD.

A minor highlight was when I finally arrived on the course to see someone else taking it with me. And not only that, he was supportive and kind and gave me tips. Just watching people ride on the course gives me a zen that I haven’t felt in a long time. And I thought with the lessons that I took on Saturday, I had a decent chance to ace this nope.

I hit a cone. My feet hit the ground. I stalled. My gears went to neutral. Objectively, I did worse than I did the last time and I fucking failed. But at no point did I decide to give up. I sucked up all my mistakes and I decided that no matter what, I was going to stay positive and not let my anxiety and nerves get me down. I did my best and I faced it.

Finally, it was the quick stop. I practiced this and nailed the heck out of it. So when the instructor called us over to tell us how we did, I almost broke down because I saw only one card in his hand, meaning that my classmate passed but not me nope.

There were two cards. I passed.

I PASSED.

I am now officially a licensed motorcyclist in the state of California. Granted, I need a TON more practice. A literal ton. I need to be more comfortable with riding and if I’m going to able to handle the new Ninja 300 I want to buy next year, I have to give it my all. But the instructors were kind and helpful and made sure I was able to take the next steps. I mean, we are talking about not only an extremely dangerous sport that could kill me if I don’t practice, but an activity that actually takes up so much of my time and makes me so calm that I’m addicted. I have to take this seriously and show all the Bruces of the world that I can outmaneuver any bullshit they throw my way and will protect those who can’t defend themselves. Why not? NOBODY is that stupid.

Until next time, guys.

#harvey weinstein #men are trash #lyft #motorcycle #california

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abassi-okoro · 5 years

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THE ANGRY WHITE WOMEN

by Abassi Okoro Eziokwu

Hate is too strong of an emotion to waste on people who don't deserve it. I hate Meghan McCain. Rather I hate what she represents, angry white femininity. It was an angry white woman who caused the savage annihilation of Emmet Till. It is the knee-jerk reactions of angry white women who call the police on black people for doing nothing more than blinking one too many times. White women are just always angry with something or someone. Have you noticed that? Despite the racial stigma that black women are often awarded, the “ANGRY BLACK FEMALE,” at least black anger is justifiably directed at a specific or definitive idea – RACISM!

Black anger carries a certain rationale, a certain sanity. It's understandable to sympathize with the anger of a people who are systematically and institutionally oppressed, abused, and persecuted – and that's only talking about black MEN! Now add to that persecution the reality of being a black WOMAN and your abuse has just gotten worse. But in 2019, you would think that it is "White Women" who are the benefactors of white male infliction or structured social abuse and oppression. It seems that every time we tune into FOX, CNN, or some feminist round table television talk show - there is no shortage of snarling, beady-eyed, 'trembling in anger' blonde-haired, white women all too eager to tell the whole of America how they're outraged over something or someone or how “women” (which is really code for WHITE women) are discriminated against more than black folk in this country.

These white women remind me of yappy little – big eyed Chihuahuas barking uncontrollably at the slightest insignificant sound or purely imagined discomfort. When white folks profess their anger over something, they call it "Outrage." Black folks call it, "White Tears." They're always stepping out of line, ridiculing and pointing fingers and especially when it comes to American Patriotism. Nothing gets these white women barking louder than the notion that American "Ideals" are being threatened by black people's audacity to call to attention racism or the fear that immigration of Hispanic people is going to colorize and lord forbid, "colonize" lily white neighborhoods like Boise Idaho or Cedar Rapids Iowa (because I'm sure that one of the whitest towns in America is worried to death over some Mexicans coming in and stealing their warehouse associate jobs at the Adam's Lumber Yard). Or the worse case scenario, Colin Kaepernick takes a knee. Tomi Lahren every week on her show damn near had a complete mental and emotional meltdown anytime Colin Kaepernick's name was mentioned. Despite my thoughts of her anger being nothing more than a cover-up for wanting to sleep with him, she didn't fail once at getting her "outrage" out to the American public. Meanwhile, white male executives who control the FOX network had no problem offering her the platform to exploit her little annoying blonde ass.

Megyn Kelly spends a great majority of her airtime interpreting innocent remarks or acts as "sexist." That's why she always has a frog up her ass, she thinks everything is sexual. Meghan McCain's shtick is that everyone and anyone who falls short of worshipping white Jewish people is, "Anti-Semitic." Then there's the rest of American white women in general who have a long history of voting against their own best interests. White women historically have always been proponents of white supremacy and the Feminist movement is an off-shoot of that white supremacy. Black women told you that years ago that white women were going into the black neighborhoods trying to recruit black women for white feminine agendas while suggesting to these black women that they would have to leave their families, give up their black men before they could be part of the “Women's Liberation Movement.”

And so many black women did exactly that. They stopped being mothers, wives, caretakers, they got jobs in corporate America, became “secretaries” in white owned companies, put on a business suit, told their kids, “I ain't cooking shit - I ain't got to take care of you,” traded in their natural hair for a perm, learned how to talk “white” on the phone and if the police came knocking at the door, they had no problem turning in their black boyfriend or black husband and especially if he was not treating her right. The white feminist snatched up many of these black women and said, “We're sisters now” and eventually sisters became partners and partners over time became "lovers." Meanwhile, white men were locking up black men over petty shit like 10 to 20 years for $10 of weed. That's called, “Engineered Racism” folks.

BUT WHY ARE WHITE WOMEN SO ANGRY?

I'm not suggesting that only certain people are allowed to be angry (the oppressed) but it sure does make more sense for oppressed to be angry and non-oppressed to NOT be so angry. Unless of course you're implying that white women are an oppressed marginalized group? I was told that white women are angry over gender inequality and especially in the political arena. Makes sense - if I was ignorant that is. When asked a little under two years ago how Donald Trump got elected, the answer that was told to us was because the people who voted for him were white and angry. They were suffering from financial anxiety and Trump's rhetoric of bringing jobs back to America sounded pretty darn good to Becky and Bob. Now here we are in 2019 and those Trump voters who were white and angry are STILL white and they’re STILL angry but only now they're angry because they STILL haven't landed those good ole' American jobs that they were promised back in 2016 and on top of that, Trump is more concerned with building a wall to keep Mexicans out than opening up a factory in your already dilapidated - one sheriff- rural town. I'm sure it feels awful to white people who just aren't accustomed to being bent over and screwed in the ass. But if you need a shoulder to cry on white people, give people of color a call. We're experienced at being lied to by white assholes. The grief counseling hotline after being lied to by white men is 1-800-YOU-DUMB. Negroes, Mexicans and Native Americans are waiting by the line to accept your calls.

FEMINIST RAGE 101

White women in particular are encouraging each other to let out their anger in the face of the current administration. Yet, white women have failed miserably in dismantling racism. It appears that white women's rage only became a thing when white men became indifferent to white female sexuality. In other words, white men simply are not that into you (just like the movie suggested). When white men were abusing women of color, sexually exploiting black women, committing sexual violence against black women with impunity, and we didn't hear a single outcry from white women. Instead, white women actually downplayed and silenced the anger of women of color - hoping that it would gain favor in the eyes of white men. You held out for nothing, he didn't care that you had his back. White men don't need your help with being a racist or a rapist. But in recent years, white women switched and played the role of “Social Activist” and despite all the protests and public outcries and unpaid emotional labor by women of color, what did these "socially aware" white women do? White women turned around and sold black women out. They threw black women under the bus and went out to the polls and voted for the party of toxic white supremacy. It's safe to say that white women are more likely to betray their gender for their race, a proverbial gut-punch to black women who have been victims of white masculinity for generations. White women should be more ashamed than angry.

Bu let me tell you how angry white women really are. White women are so angry that 53% of them put their white privilege above their 2nd class gender status to vote for Donald Trump. Despite their "anger," white women believe they benefit from white male patriarchy by trading on their whiteness to monopolize resources for mutual gain. In return, they’re placed on a pedestal to be “cherished and revered,” by white men who in reality will not only be quick to deny them their basic human rights but will, "Grab them by the pussy" while denying them. Look, let's cut through the bullshit and just go ahead and be brutally honest: White women, your white man will NEVER love you the way he should (to full capacity.) Maybe because he spends most of his time fantasizing over black, Latin and Asian women. He'll never tell you that, but I will! Hurts doesn't it? Maybe that's why you're angry because despite supporting the system of White Supremacy, you know deep down inside your soul that the whole premise of white supremacy is predicated on white male sexual inadequacy (white genetic survival, penis envy and trying to get back into the womb of the black woman in order to recreate himself without the genetic deficiencies). Isn't that why many of your fellow white women leave their white men to be with black men to begin with? Because even white women know who the real KINGS are (Royal blood). Now pick your jaw up off the floor.

Isn't this the real reason for white female fragility? The answer is yes! There exist a lot of truths about ourselves that most of us aren't willing to explore. For white people, some of those truths paint them in a very pathetic light. I'm sorry, but as a white woman in America - you're simply not a victim of anything structural. You may be a victim to some personal and isolated incident but there is no systemic or institutionalized "ism" in place to destroy you and NO, Sexism isn't your collective oppression. You can't claim that because sexism isn't exclusive to just the female gender and white men have always treated you like shit and so don't start acting like now all of a sudden you have a problem with being his bitch and especially after 53% of you voted in a "Pussy Grabber" as your President. GROW UP white women. Pull yourself together ladies. It's not a good look to be angry for no goddamn reason.

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oxfordeliterp · 7 years

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CONGRATULATIONS, VICTORIA!

You have been accepted to play the role of GWENDOLYN ARMSTRONG with the faceclaim of ZOE KRAVITZ. Please create your account and send it to the main in the next 24 hours. I am swept off my feet by your application, although this time, once again, I had to choose between two marvelous ones. Yet, the way you know Gwen’s skin and what a piece of art you have turned this into captivated me and I know I couldn’t possibly see anybody else writing this character now that I have read your application. I want to read your writing forever, if possible, because you’re no Medusa, Euryale or Stheno, but a siren trying to lure people to their deaths with a breathtaking choice of words and an impressive depth that you have offered Gwendolyn. Thank you for giving me a spectacular reason to stay up all night and I already know it is going to be an honor writing with you. Based on the description of every Quarrel Club member at the end of the para sample, I would have given you any of those characters; but instead, have the queen. She’s yours.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name and pronouns: Victoria, Vee, V for Vagina, she/her … sheeeet I don’t care, I’m just excited for a group like this to come along, a group that has pumped me up to be in the RP world again!

Age: Quarter century

Time-zone: PST

Activity level: My life is currently a clusterfuck, but a clusterfuck that is in desperate need of distraction and creative outlet. The only thing keeping me away from the interwebs is a part-time job and the graduate school application process. Sooo… I don’t know numerically out of 10? 6? 7? I never know how to answer this part - lets just say I spend more time procrastinating online than I should.

Triggers: N/A

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Desired character: I instantly connected with Gwendolyn the moment I read her bio. I’ve always had the tendency to be drawn to troubled, complex, introverted men - obviously, Gwendolyn is the opposite of all of the above, which shocked me when it came to how drawn I was to her as a character. It became quite obvious why she felts so familiar after reading her biography and her circumstances a few times through – she is the version of myself that I always wished to be but never had the balls to go through with in college. As I sit here and finish out writing this application, I realize just how much of a joy it has been simply to hash out my own feelings in an introspective way through this character. For me being a year out of college and looking back on my own experience, I recognize that her extreme black and white views on female/male dynamics and radical feminism are so familiar due to a lack of experience in the real world. I know I can play this character so well because I understand exactly what motivates her whilst also having the hindsight to understand why her extreme views will be her downfall if she doesn’t learn to compromise her brilliance. It’s so easy to see the dichotomy of men vs. women in the small bubble that is the college experience, but to be able to play it out with the self-righteousness that Gwen has for her cause, not to mention her ability to back it up with hours of research and intelligent debates, is an opportunity that I would be far too excited about!

Gender and pronouns of the character: She/Her

Changes: If it works, I have used Zoe Kravitz as my muse for this character. When it comes down to it, the writing of the character is far more important than the face but I honestly could not get her badass, renegade essence out of my mind when I was typing out her app.

I was also thinking Naya Rivera as back up #2, and then Eiza Gonzalez if you don’t see either of the other gals meshing with your vision of the RP.

Traits:

+ Charismatic, Principled, Loyal, Contemplative, Ambitious

- Sanctimonious, Arrogant, Fanatical, Vindictive, Stubborn

Extras:

Gwendolyn is following the History and Politics course as her major of choice. A natural fit, her aims to alter the prevailing, patriarchic gender dynamic extend much further than simply Oxford. She firmly believes that hidden in history are stories of matriarchies that have been purposely buried by the predominance of male historians. Determined to pair the wisdom and lessons of the past with a future game plan to get into politics, she knows to make a difference globally, you must know and analyze the cycles of history. Gwen is a news junkie, her cell constantly pinging with the latest updates stemming from hundreds of diverse news sources. She subscribes to a plethora of sources, never wanting to fall into the trap of an echo chamber and finding sick joy in reading viewpoints she disagrees with so she can shred the arguments apart with gusto.

Gwen is constantly challenging the syllabus and her professors for not having enough diverse content (i.e female and P.O.C authors) – much to the annoyance of her classmates. She will consistently ramble on in debate and find ways to weave in a complaint even in the most simple of question-answer class discussion. It’s gotten to the point where she has been kicked out of a class for being too confrontational. But don’t think that’s stopped her – she now stages her formal complaints in the form of unassigned essays that she will turn into her professors detailing the long list of her objections to the proposed subject matter. She knows its drives everyone crazy, but she feels she’s doing a service to them all – it’s a well researched fact that diverse classrooms paired with varying points of view in reading material leads to the most productive learning environment, a talking point she will gladly back up with a bibliography of sources that she knows by heart.

A trait about Gwendolyn that no one would ever realize is her tendency to be exhausted by her own ambitions. Although she insists on being the loudest in a group of people, she is most comfortable when she is at one with her mind, challenging it with complex novels are articles, or if she’s lucky, finding another like-minded individual who is interested in tearing idea to shreds just for the interest of mental sparring. Although she is active in the social scene out of necessity, it’s not her goal in any way to be the life of the party unless it’s in the interest of bringing more notoriety to the Quarrel Club.

Personality Type: The Debater (ENTP)

Follow the path of the unsafe, independent thinker. Expose your ideas to the dangers of controversy. Speak your mind and fear less the label of ’crack-pot’ than the stigma of conformity. And on issues that seem important to you, stand up and be counted at any cost.” – Thomas J Watson

Taking a certain pleasure in being the underdog, Debaters enjoy the mental exercise found in questioning the prevailing mode of thought.

Treating others as they’d be treated, Debaters have little tolerance for being coddled, and dislike when people beat around the bush, especially when asking a favor.

I also have an inspo blog I’ve been using for her, the account that I applied with. It contains general quotes, people of interest, and things that I think either define Gwen as a person or better explains what she cares about. Please consider when reading the app: http://cooperxmathis.tumblr.com/

PARA SAMPLE

Everybody knows the story of Medusa, that she was a petrifying woman to be reckoned with. That her name loosely translated to Queen. That she was so terrifying that one glance into her steely eyes would turn her victim to stone. Only some people know that she hadn’t always been a hideous monster. That she had been one of the most beautiful and devoted servants of Athena, and although many men sought to marry her, she fell for Poseidon. Those with even the slightest of Greek mythology knowledge can recall that Medusa was ultimately weak and succumbed to the mortal men who hunted her down. She became a famous symbol for another man’s strength. Perseus paraded her defeat on his shield as a badge of honor – another woman down, another head on a platter, another female used as an ingredient in a trumped up legend for whatever man needed an ego boost. But there is a much more interesting story behind Medusa, a mere-mortal who squandered her time on hope and regrets, always fantasizing about returning to her mortal life of worshipping another whilst she herself was originally worshiped for the most dull of female qualities – beauty and purity.

Of course Medusa became one of the most famous female villains in Greek mythology – she was a fantastic tale of an innocent girl who lost her chastity and transformed into a seductive woman whose power was to great and finally put in her place by a cliché male hero. Male historians eat that shit up, happy to pass on a tale of a woman who got what was coming to her. The real cherry on top of this sexist shit pie, the little detail that your grade school history class always leaves out, was that the female Goddess, Athena, transformed Medusa into a monster. That in the original myth, Poseidon raped her in Athena’s temple, and out of jealous spite, Athena turned her into a monster, transforming each of her satin locks into a snake. That small detail is always left out of grade-school mythology week, probably to avoid harnessing the awareness of girl-on-girl on crime and victim blaming in young impressionable teen women. Can’t let them catch on too quick; when second class citizens are divided the patriarchy thrive – divide & conquer.

Alas, Medusa was essentially victim-blamed after being raped by Poseidon – a sick twist that Gwen was all too happy to see her history teacher squirm over when she pleasantly brought it to light in her freshman mythology class. Gwen learned early on that if she wanted to learn relevant history outside of the ‘triumphs’ of what rich white dudes did for the benefit of other rich white dudes, she would have to dig for herself. For buried within the legend of Medusa, Queen of the Gorgons, there are two much more worthy recipients of the title, two older, immortal sisters – Stheno and Euryale. It’s no surprise that these so-called villains soon became heroes in Gwen’s mind.

The younger of the two sisters, Euryale, was the calm before the storm. Just as vicious as the others, but with a completely different approach, luring her victims in with a stillness and calming peace that would give no warning to their fate. Her eyes described as still pools of violet that tranquilized all those who looked upon them, blessing them with a feeling of control over a hectic universe, the ultimate tease. Giving no warning for the immediate havoc that was about to be released, they would lose all desire to retaliate. Hypnotized by her presence, they would remain blissfully still until the last moment, relishing in the moment even as she sank her fangs through flesh and tore skin from bone.

Then there was Stheno, her muse, her identity, the fiercest of the three, known to be the most murderous of the Gorgon sisters, having killed more men then both of her sisters combined. Her approach was on a complete different side of the spectrum, her eyes explosive with a fierce reminiscent of Hades’ fire. No hypnotic placidity could be found within them. She yearned for the indulgence of human flesh, indulged in the taste of warm blood. No attraction on earth is as tempting as that of a powerful force - and none came more powerful as Stheno’s presence. A temper as violent as no other on this earth or in any other existence - she was the unstoppable force that brought a swift and total destruction.

Gwen was going to rewrite Oxford history, her legacy would be destroying the façade that the Riot Club had created, revealing them for the petulant children they are, little boys creating messes for play and throwing money to clean them up. This was her pet project, her practice round before she was unleashed onto the real world. A smaller, test version of how the rest of the world works, where rich men create problems that affect the rest of us and then jack each other off for fixing the mess they had created in the first place. She somewhat knew this was child’s play compared to raiding and destroying the ultimate boys clubs outside of Oxford, but hey, if she could tear down a centuries old tradition and replace it with a far superior female legacy within a four year span, she would finally prove to herself that she was the unstoppable force of nature that Stheno had inspired her to be.

She knew it was crucial to pick the right women, that this very first group of ten girls would be everything as they would be setting the tone for centuries to come. One of her best qualities had always been her ability to see past the bullshit of girl-on-girl crime. She never bought into the idea that in order to move up in the world she had to put other women down. It was a fact that that very notion is what has kept women as powerless for millennia, and she was determined to prove that if she brought ten of the best and brightest together, that claws would not come out, at least, not against eachother. However, her place as the leader of the group is something she would never sacrifice. Not that she is buying into an idea that she is better than any of the other women, but positive that only she has the pure, clear-cut vision of boosting them all up for the better; not to mention she hadn’t planned on being exactly forthcoming on her actual motives. The appeal of the Quarrel club was first and foremost an illusion that she was presenting. That it was something of a petty, social badge of honor that would include frivolous spending, ludicrous parties, and a bit of fun competition with the most ‘desirable’ men on campus. Little would her recruits know that she was hand picking them for their potential. She would take these confused women and show them what the world really could look like if they only had the power, if they only had the desire to restore the natural order of the world where women were destined to lead. It would be a slow process, she knew, she would have to lure them in, which would be easy. The hard part would be making them see how pointless the perks and values of the Riot Club were and showing them that true satisfaction will come from tearing down the men and everything they stand for, not just downing shots and fucking around with Oxford’s golden boys.

After months of careful planning, she had nine pristine envelopes in hand, their thick cardstock stamped with wax seal, the fierce stare of the Gorgon head piercing through the deep red. A satisfied smirk wove its way across Gwen’s lips, her eyes lighting up as she ran her fingers across the raised edges of the insignia. She knew the women would all assume it was Medusa, probably never even hearing of Stheno, but soon she was to teach them the buried history of the much stronger women that existed in not only fabled myths, but the real world as well. Soon, they too would be the legends used to inspire leagues of women to write their own history, to never be forgotten by the bias of time told through the eyes of men. The future will be rewritten and the pen will be held by f e m a l e s. Flipping over each envelope, she dipped her vintage, sterling silver pen into ink and began to write out each woman’s name.

L A U R E N H A S T I N G S - A crucial member for a multitude of reasons. The most obvious, everyone not only knew Lauren, but also idolized her. She glided across campus with an ease and poise that was unseen in most modern women, she epitomized the essence of old movie stars. Although Gwen in no way embodied these qualities, nor would she ever want to, she still understood the effect that this old-fashioned femininity had on the masses. Frankly, she found Lauren to be an extremely dull Betty Draper-esque robot, but if there was one thing that Gwendolyn respected it was discipline, a quality that Lauren certainly exuded with her picture perfect image. She knew that nobody could truly be that flawless, but whatever Lauren was hiding, the façade that followed her had never cracked, no scandal had ever erupted - an amazing success in Gwen’s eyes. In her mind, Lauren could be the Euryale to her Stheno. That level of control and composure was something she admired and could learn from. More importantly though, was Lauren’s connection to Jamie Heather. Her smile faltered. She would never admit to herself how much of a catalyst he had been in creating the woman she had become; that he was the very reason why the Quarrel Club would exist in the first place. No, Gwen quickly shook the beautiful face from her mind, refusing to let him run away with her thoughts once again - he doesn’t deserve that much credit. Moving on, she poised her pen to the next ivory envelope in the stack.

E L I Z A B E T H P E M B E R L Y – Gwen can’t exactly put her finger on what draws her to Elizabeth, but there is an infectious energy that surrounds the girl wherever she goes. Gwen knows that she is indulgent and a bit of a narcissist, but fuck it, what man doesn’t get away with the same qualities and still labeled a charming cassanova? Elizabeth has a way about her that makes everyone desperate to please, a very distinct feminine essence that is subtle but inevitably intoxicating. Better to have that on her side, to harness that sort of brilliant charismatic energy and exploit it for her own purpose than to let Elizabeth waste away her own potential. She has a power that makes people do whatever she wants without asking them, for motivations that they don’t even understand but desperately urge to simply satisfy her.

V I C T O R I A D E T E R R E R O S Another choice that although overwhelmingly dissimilar to herself, came with a connection to the Riot club paired with the bonus of an old family name. Although Lauren had the essence of a celebrity, Victoria actually was one. Not that Gwendolyn was one to give a shit about tabloid fodder. There were far too many important events and people in the world to waste time on the likes of People magazine or throwing meaningless likes to Instagram ‘stars’ desperate for validation from thousands of strangers. No, she was not one to be starstruck by celebrity influence, but she couldn’t deny that in today’s times, Victoria’s tabloid status could be of use. If she could have an early influence on the young royal, there’s a chance that she could make sure that Victoria didn’t become another pretty face simply peddling Vitamix or whatever bullshit beauty product down the throats of millennial lemmings glued to their phone screens. Plus, Gwen’s obsessions with history meant that an old, royal family name couldn’t help but pique her interest. Package that in with a brother in the Riot Club and Victoria was a given.

A R I A B E L L E F O N T E – She could never put her finger on exactly what drew her to Aria, but she in some ways has always envied her. Her effortless charm and impassivity are qualities that Gwen knows she could never enjoy but admires greatly. A woman like Aria is crucial to the group, a perfect example of the type of women who should be, no – will be – running the world. Aria never smiles to please, never wastes her time nor believes that her appearance is anything but an asterisk to her entire being, never felt the need to parade whatever it is her parents do to enable her to afford attending such a prestigious university. Aria simply exists, in complete authenticity; a woman who has never tried, let alone needed, to impress anyone yet has a bounty of influence at her fingertips. The only negative that Gwen can assess is the utter lack of appreciation that Aria has for her own influence. She seems completely satisfied to drift among their entitled peers with little motivation to do anything with her gifts. Pressing her silver pen as she dotted the I of Aria’s name, Gwen was sure she could inspire the girl to follow through with her full potential.

A L E X A N D R A R O S S E S S E N – Whispers could be heard all over campus of the brilliant young woman who at only sixteen had earned early admission to Oxford. Whispers turned into full blown shouts as soon as everyone realized such a brilliant mind came packaged in a red-haired, statuesque beauty. She and Alexandra had a class together where Gwen got to witness the full blown arrogance of the child genius, a quality that turned the rest of the class off but Gwen absolutely adored. At such a young age Alexandra had the confidence that most women never find after years of soul-searching and worthless self-help guides. Alexandra had a quick wit and didn’t abstain from questioning authority, a quality Gwen quickly picked up on after witnessing her challenge many of the key points in several lectures. Not to mention the rumors that she was behind the gossip maven Ace, a serious advantage that Gwen knew if she could harness for the benefit of the Quarell Club could be a crucial cog in the warhead she was creating against the Riot Club. After all, everyone knows to win a war people need to believe the rookies have a fighting chance; it brings morale up among underestimated troops and breeds allegiance in new acquaintances determined to prove themselves. And in the court of public opinion, Ace could weave a narrative of success and manipulate gossip during the inevitable hiccups that come with starting such an exclusive group.

A R A B E L L A W I N D S O R – Everyone knows about Arabella Windsor and her midnight escapades. Judgments surrounding her loose reputation never cease and what Gwen adores is the fact that she seems to revel in them. Gwen abhors the double standard that tells women they must be as beautiful and sexually desirable as humanly possible but once they take control of said sexuality and use it for their own pleasure are labeled slut and presumably undesirable, a catch twenty-two that would be amusing if it wasn’t so prevalent and capable of destroying a woman’s self worth. Female sexuality has been the number one weapon manipulated by men to keep women in their place since the dawn of time. That much is most obvious even now when you look at every government funded female health legislation dictated by literal (and figurative) dicks with not one woman in sight to speak for her own body. The key to the male ego is his ability to womanize, to show he’s the big man on campus by tricking women into his bed and then ignoring their very existence the next day as a power play. Gwen isn’t sure if Arabella knows just how much of a social renegade she is just by simply sleeping with as many men as she pleases without guilt, but she is determined to take that unabashed female sexual prowess and harness it into more meaningful pursuits. She knows there is a bit of risk involved, seeing as many of Arabella’s conquests are men of the Riot Club, but with the right amount of loyalty to the Quarell club instilled, Arabella’s sexuality could be used as a weapon. After all, it’s a well-known cliché that a man is most weak with his trousers around his ankles.

C O R D E L I A M C Q U E E N – Cordelia attracts the gaze and curiosity of many, not only because of her world-famous last name, but because of the mysterious way in which she carries herself. She is a walking oxymoron – charismatic yet unforthcoming with the few words she speaks at all, a wallflower in theory and yet impossible to ignore. She is the type of girl that you always want to know more about but refuses to share what she doesn’t meticulously allow to be public. Gwen was determined to have her be a member of the club the moment she saw her. Her effortless appeal and unwavering mysterious persona perplexes many, Gwen herself falling under the spell. She isn’t sure what exactly the girl can bring to the club, but the magnetism she exudes is sure to be harboring an untapped potential that Gwen could use to the club’s advantage. Plus, if Gwen is honest with herself, the connection Cordelia holds to high-fashion royalty adds an essence of exclusivity and publicity that Gwen is just shallow enough to take advantage of.

C H A R L O T T E Z E R I L L I – With a twin in the riot club, Gwen knew that Charlotte would be a risky choice that could pan out to be a fountain of knowledge into the inner-workings of the Riot Club or backfire in a nuclear fashion if she couldn’t harness her loyalty to fall into step with the Quarrel club. Gwen had a feeling that Charlotte had always been the brilliant one out of the Zerelli twins, that she had been living in her brother’s shadow and was looking for an opportunity to stretch her legs in a role of influence. With the right coaxing and a group of brilliant women surrounding her, Gwen was sure that Charlotte was a harbor of untapped potential that could prove to be one of her finest choices of all. There wasn’t an exact quality that she could put her finger on when it came to what drew her to Charlotte, but Gwen wasn’t one to silence her intuition. Too many women choose to ignore that little voice in their head that all too often is screaming the right answer because they have so little trust in their own minds that they choose to silence their own power. Women’s intuition isn’t a myth, and Gwen is out to prove that hers is spot on.

L A N A C H A M B E R S – With a mind as sharp as her own, Lana was the last woman to make the cut. It’s not that she didn’t have the right temperament for the club, she was there on scholarship after all, proving that she had a keen mind and was determined to fight her way to the top. It’s just that Gwen was aware that her combined choice of women has an overall image to maintain. It was crucial to show that the Quarrel club would not have money be an influential factor in membership. Gwen is apt to criticize capitalism and is she is a firm believer that white imperialism has lead to the huge income inequality gap that exists between the worlds most wealthy and most poor. Gwen won’t admit to herself that she is using Lana as a tool to show off her own biases towards wealth and money in general. In her mind, she’s doing the right thing, offering a woman a spot in a money-driven social circle and coming off as a selfless queen who is above such superficial things such as monetary measures, despite knowing little of actual poverty after growing up in family of extreme upper-class means and opportunities.

Pressing the final wax seal with satisfaction, Gwen felt the high rush that comes whenever she feels she is on the precipice of a brilliant scheme about to be realized. This would be her master project, her legacy, her own personal legend. Oxford would be forever altered, the gender dynamic pushed in a completely different direction with women, her women, leading the pack. Sliding the ivory envelopes into her tan leather backpack, she sauntered out the door, her head raised high, already balancing the inevitable crown she was about to take as her own.

#accepted #gwendolyn armstrong

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danger-archive · 7 years

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[ THIS APPLIES TO ALL VERSES. THE MAJORITY APPLIES TO GROWN UP DAPHNE IN VERSE 3, BUT PARTS APPLY TO VERSE 4 AND VERSE 1/2 DAPHNE IN HER TEENHOOD ]

FEMINISM + DAPHNE BLAKE = A lot of going round and round, to be honest. To first consider this, talking into account what we mean by feminism is important. I’m not talking half-assed, only when you feel like it feminism, I’m talking real, raw, feminism. Acknowledgement of white privilege, acknowledgment of cis privilege, acknowledgment of ALL privilege, really! Let me start by stating that Daphne is NOT perfect. All through high-school, her only perception of real feminism was ‘wear what you want to wear’ (and even that wasn’t always present) and poetry slams about rape culture, and false ideals of sisterhood? But it’s only as she’s looking back in college that she starts to realize where she was flawed (and I mean, she’s still flawed, but more on that later). As she was, like many young women, a victim of internalized misogyny, she felt a need to, during certain times of jealousy, to compete in a sense, with other girls. Jealousy is something we all feel, obviously, but it stemmed from a place of clear sexism. Of a need to compete with other girls for attention, for affection, for space. It’s something that even I have experienced, and I think something many other girls experience. Like when a guy tells you you’re not like “other girls” and you take it as a good thing. (Verse Four Daphne, for example, will absolutely set a guy straight if he said that. Verse 1/2 Daphne wouldn’t realize how problematic it is, though, she’d probably have a niggling thought of ‘is that... a good or bad thing?’ and grown up, verse 3 Daphne would be realizing how shitty that is, because it tears down other girls.)

She’d also make remarks like, oh god what is she wearing? And now she looks back and she realizes hey, who the fuck cares what she’s wearing as long as she likes it! But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Being in college in New York and meeting people from all walks of life has allowed her to open her world view and perspective and realize that she’s not alone in her struggle, and that instead of turning her back on other girls, bonding together is so, so much better. She looks back with some shame at all the horrible things she’s thought and done, and tries to reform herself into a stronger person who empowers others. And that isn’t always easy. Sometimes that means sticking up for someone who doesn’t have as loud a voice as you, and it can be scary. Sometimes, she over steps her boundaries too and speaks for people who don’t want to be spoken up for. And I mean, she really is not perfect. Sometimes she’ll still say things which may undermine other girls, and she’ll still feel jealous, and she will not like every girl she meets, and sometimes it will be for the wrong reasons, and she’ll fumble people’s pronouns, and forget that other genders exist, and she will fuck up, and fuck up, and make mistakes but –– that’s what makes her human. When it comes down to it, she’ll own up to her mistakes, even if her cheeks blush and she feels as though she’s failed. Knowing that there is a world of girls out there who share the same burden as she does had opened her eyes a lot. In short, Daphne’s perception of feminism has gone from thinking screaming GIRLPOWER at the top of her lungs is enough to do some damage, to actually getting up and fighting for said girlpower. With her platform heels, her lipgloss, and pink-dotted knuckle rings, she’s fit to fight back against the crushing weight of the patriarchy –– but she understands that if her best friend wants to fight back in a pair of clunky glasses and an oversized (and endearingly ugly) sweater, then that’s fucking fine too. Live and let live. And yeah, she’s still learning and she’s still growing, and there’s a lot she has to understand, but you know, that’s what time and personality development are for. And I mean, obviously it fluctuates and she’s not always going to be the poster child for modern feminism (I mean she’s not even aware about the debate between like the whole post-modern ‘put on your war paint’ feminism verses traditional ‘bra-burning’ feminism) so there’s a whole way to go but, yeah. She’s getting there slowly. (And I mean it does make her feel like she’s doing more good, so there’s also that).

UPDATED: 03.06.17

#will probably write a seperate hc about feminism + verse 4!daphne too #❛ ♚ ––––– a girl is a rose ; a rose is a dagger. ( CH STUDY ).

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dramacravings · 7 years

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some thoughts on twy...

narrative: a representation of a particular situation or process in such a way as to reflect or conform to an overarching set of aims or values

i like ma rin but why is this drama so intent on getting me to identify her as a victim?? everyone in her life (mostly women) mocks her, berates her, uses her, underestimates her, makes assumptions of and accusations against her, tries to manipulate her by holding favors over her head or hoops for her to jump through, or just makes her life more difficult in general.

there are at least ten other ways so joon could have prevented that car accident (stopped the truck, stalled traffic, pushed the god damn crosswalk button, said “hey, watch out for that truck”) but instead we have to watch him stalk and harass ma rin down the street and into the crosswalk jfc (they really want her to be a victim).

there are a thousand other scenarios ma rin could have needed to be rescued from (ferry accident. dock accident. overhead piano accident. bridge accident. did anyone watch early edition?) but we got the street harassment version and the scene ends with ma rin unconscious in the hospital (for no apparent reason) while so joon streams embarrassing videos of her drunken public encounters online, videos she never consented to appear in let alone get spread around the internet.

so joon later uses this knowledge of ma rin’s alcohol problem against her to coerce her to speak with him after she made it clear that she didn’t want to. (but this is supposed to be a funny bc she likes to drink/has a drinking problem. side note: are women only allowed to be funny or silly (or sad) when they’re drunk? that’s a depressing thought...)

when so joon causes ma rin to feel humiliated or ashamed or he’s impressing her we get her point of view but when ma rin is making so joon’s life ~difficult~ or if he pities her we get his point of view. why is that? why are they so invested in making her a victim!?

i feel like the drama is just tearing ma rin down so that... hell, i don’t know why. she’s great but the writers are creating a narrative in which literally everyone else is in control of hers. every scene is another opportunity to bring her down, for someone else to make or break her hopes and dreams, or simply sidetrack her from just living her life and pursuing her future career in peace. /we/ might like ma rin but this drama does not like ma rin.

let’s also not forget that at this point the story ends with ma rin’s and so joon’s deaths and it’s up to so joon and his godlike knowledge of their intertwined futures to prevent it from happening. ma rin is just a piece in this puzzle with no awareness of the overarching narrative driving the plot forward, or the factors motivating this man to follow her around, to be so hot and cold with her. he couldn’t care less about her.

i’m trying to compare this to something like qihm where the couple has to figure things out together and she constantly has to teach him about her world and they form a partnership. contrast qihm with this drama where so joon travels to the future and we only get his perspective as we all discover that he and ma rin are married. ma rin is only there to answer questions. there was nothing in their interaction that was for her or her story or even from her point of view. this was all about so joon. entitled, all-knowing so joon.

since most of the other annoying people in ma rin’s life are women there’s also this layer of ma rin being the ~exceptional woman~ who gets to be fleshed out and flawed while other women are just pathetic or petty. none of her friends, coworkers, nor her mother are written in a way that’s supposed to make you empathize with them.

those we do get to empathize with are ma rin (but only as a victim), so joon (a hard-hearted asshole; a man), and so joon’s time travel buddy (also a man). the only people who are ever nice to ma rin are her friend (who’s really only there to clap for ma rin when she gets a job--this is very low investment faux female friendship positivity imo) and the reporter ma rin went on a date with, who we’re supposed to appreciate bc he didn’t berate ma rin after her terrible mother told lies about her (and i’m just waiting for him to screw her over with his article).

i almost get the feeling that we’re supposed to respect or value ma rin more because she’s a victim and reacts to being a victim in a ~humble~ way. like, i wouldn’t blame this woman if she didn’t maintain a positive attitude and instead broke down whilst literally everyone tries to make her life harder. what does ma rin get out of telling the story this way? what does this narrative accomplish for her, specifically?

we have to stop putting the onus on female characters to respond to bad treatment in the Right Way (policing women’s behavior) and instead challenge narratives that validate a world in which women don’t have control of their lives and are expected to Deal With It ~admirably~

how is this not a form of victim blaming in which we wouldn’t be expected to like ma rin if she weren’t “lively and endlessly positive”? honestly?

this is Strong Female Character posturing (behaving in a way that is intended to impress or mislead others) where they set up scenarios in which ma rin is treated like shit specifically so the writers can put on a show demonstrating how Strong she is. this drama is more interested in putting ma rin on a pedestal for her Admirable Behavior in the face of constant attacks than it is in condemning or changing others’ awful behavior toward her.

why should i want to relate to or sympathize with this narrative structure? this isn’t my idea of an appealing high stakes time travel romance. a gross part of me wants to watch this drama play out just to confirm my suspicions. they’ve already made so many questionable narrative decisions that they’re setting things up to get worse for ma rin, for her to become more of a pawn in so joon’s ~destiny~. ma rin might end up with the material things she desires--the career, the guy--but i just don’t see this process being a nice experience for her. it hasn’t been so far and i don’t have any reason to believe that will change.

i’m going to relate this back to my earlier comments re the swdbs teaser in which we’re supposed to get excited about (literally “teased” by) a woman fighting off sexual harassment on public transportation. media co-opted feminism is jtbc and tvn raking in ad money so we can watch women get harassed for fun and for free lmao. we’re deep in the matrix.

i wanted to include what @gohyunjungfun wrote in response to my comments about the teaser bc it’s better articulated and influenced some of what i wrote here: it's a special brand of pop feminism that focuses on individual women being smart/strong/whatever enough to fight off certain types of male aggression but is uninterested in the structure of patriarchy in recognizing it as a system and uninterested in men simply *not* being predators.

i’d argue this also applies to patriarchal norms in dramas that tell us any narrative or story is fair game and it’s up to female characters to just be good enough role models or interesting enough characters to deserve our praise. we have to stop ignoring writers’ motivations and instead ask why we tell stories like this in the first place. narrative choices are choices, you can’t be neutral on a moving train, etc etc.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #twy #wow that was long #long post #long text post #but also #that missing 9 gifset going around #ji ah ~destroying the patriarchy~ while having no narrative of her own #same shit different show #''but joon oh said she was a strong female character!''#ofc he did

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samesurvivor-blog · 6 years

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Survivor

Here's my problem: I don't normally tell people in my life things because I don't feel like they care, or maybe I feel like I'm a burden when I share my problems. I just keep things to myself and I've gotten good at dealing with things on my own. But this is what caused my PTSD. After it happened, I went about my day pretending that nothing had happened. I quickly dried my tears, took a breath, went home and made sure to make it seem like nothing was wrong so my parents wouldn't ask me. I knew I could never tell them because it would break them to know that something like that happened to their little girl. And I know that I would be punished for something that is not my fault but that would be their reaction to their anger because that's how it usually is. I chose not to tell any of my closest friends about it because I knew this was something I could handle on my own. If I told anyone, they would feel sorry for me. They would see me as a victim, but that's not me. I don't want someone's pity. My friends wouldn't even know what to do if I told them, because who does? You can't go back and change what happened and you can want to help as much as you want, but how? What could you to say to someone like that? I wouldn't know what to say either as someone who's been through it. My brother has always given the best advice, but I feel like he wouldn't know what to say in this situation either. And again, he did a lot to help raise me, he wouldn't want to know that something like that happened to his little sister. I keep saying "little" because that's how my family sees me, but I want to make it clear that I was not little when this happened. I was 19. This happened in May 2017 and for a couple months, I was perfectly normal. I nearly deleted the event from my memory, I never thought of it. It was like it never happened and I thought that meant I was dealing with it correctly. I don't think of it so I don't feel negatively and I can go on with my life. In September, there was another event of similar occurrence but nowhere near the same level of intensity as the previous. There are levels of intensity for sexual harassment, assault and rape. For example, it might begin with catcalling, which isn't okay but very common and often not too traumatizing. But even within that there are different levels. Being given a "compliment" generally won't provide as much fear as other encounters women can experience on the street. My second event made me feel the same helplessness and lack of control over the situation and although it was a situation that I've been in prior to the event in May and have been able to handle before, it caused my body to freeze and I was left scared and in tears. I broke down. I thought this was my normal reaction to this situation, given my past. This is when I believe my PTSD symptoms started but I had no idea. The second event put me back in the first. I re-experienced emotions I thought I had forgotten. I cried more in this "silly" situation of someone denying me the eight to say "no" than my actual attack. In October, I started seeing #MeToo around. It pained me to find out what it meant the first time that I saw it. It pained me even more to find out the number of women I knew who have had similar experiences. I so desperately wanted to post this. But I can't have people in my life know. I even considered posting a picture and subtly hiding "#MeToo" somewhere in it, just so that's it's out there. But I could never build up the courage. Every time I saw that hashtag I instantly felt deeply saddened. When I read anonymous posts sharing intense detail, I often cried. I still didn't consider any of this to be PTSD, but I was triggered. And people use that word so often that I don't even want to use it now but I don't know how else to explain what's happening to me. It got to the point that I needed a break from the internet until the hashtag died down. When I would see one of these posts when I was on campus, I excused myself to the bathroom to cry. I could not watch a rape scene or an almost rape scene on a TV show or movie without feeling sick to my stomach and breaking down and crying. Not only that, hearing about other people's trauma that wasn't related to mine. The memory of my first event would invade my thoughts if the topic of conversation was car accidents, natural disasters or war. I became confused. In November, I participated in a study that was affiliated with my university, as I do from time to time. This particular study consisted of an extensively long questionnaire about everything. This included substance use, family history, what my home life is like, what my social life is like and there was even a section about if I had experienced any trauma. My responses to this questionnaire is what first made me start to consider that I might be experiencing symptoms of PTSD. November was also a particularly rough month for me with several other things going on in my life that would be hard for anyone to deal with. It was always one thing after another and it didn't seem to stop. And again, any time I experienced any form of stress, my mind would go back to that first event. It felt like this event was taking control over my life, control over me. I hate that. I hate to even admit it. I always thought I was in full control of my feelings. I never allow things to affect me in such a manner and I still do not understand why this one did or how it could. I considered myself to be very good at this but this one got to me. I then read that PTSD symptoms often develop when the memory of what happened and my feelings about it become disconnected. The way I dealt with this, and how I always deal with stress, is pretend it never happened and move on. Because life goes on and I can't pause it to deal with something. That may have worked for any other stressful situation for me, but this exact way I was approaching it caused my PTSD symptoms. And I can try to ignore my symptoms and move on like I normally would, which would make me feel like I'm in control. But what about this symptoms I can't control? What about when I wake up from a dream in which I try to escape a rape. My body is frozen, I'm already in tears and I don't know why and my heart is racing. I lie there waiting for my body to calm down. It is now December, I do my research about PTSD but tell no one. As a psychology student and a mental health advocate, it doesn't sit right with me. I can't tell other people what happened to me. I would not even consider a stranger or a professional. I can't have anyone attributing this event, with me. It's almost that I am ashamed even though I know it could not have been my fault. But even with all of the awareness surrounding this topic recently, I still hold my own stigma. The country that I was born in didn't tell men not to rape. It told women to learn self-defense, to carry pepper spray, to place their keys between their knuckles when they walk alone. Don't make eye-contact with men that speak to you on the street, they will perceive it as an invitation. Boys will be boys and we will not try to fix their behaviour, instead you should alter yours to accommodate them. Your safety isn't important enough to punish predators. Your word is just an allegation, it doesn't matter. I was raised in a house with parents who told me that a woman who gets raped deserves to be raped. Because a woman should not be out at night anyways. And she shouldn't have been dressing like that either. As if those are the only scenarios in which a woman could get raped and as if that is justifiable.Even with my extremely early curfew, I was sexually assaulted and raped in broad daylight. Yes, I am late for the #MeToo trend. But this isn't about a trend. This is about my inability to take control over my life because someone decided they had control over my body. Someone decided that my word meant nothing. My "no" didn't have as much credit as the "yes" in his head. And a man could read this and say that this is wrong but what about when you speak over me? What about when the words I speak do not matter to you and you discredit them because it came from my mouth and not from a man's, who you perceive to be more knowledgeable? What about when you think your opinion is more important and refuse to acknowledge mine? You are facilitating the patriarchy that engraves my fear when a man, who is bigger and stronger than me, looks at me for too long, leaving me wondering if his next move will be an attack. If my next move will have to be defense. I wonder why men suddenly tell me I'm no longer attractive when I refuse to have sex with them. Or even when I don't want to kiss them or give them my number. I wonder about the next time I will say "no" and if that man understands what that means. I wonder if there will be another time that I have to say "stop". I wonder if there will be another time that man tightly grip my wrists so I can't fight back and still thinks it's okay to proceed. I wonder if there will ever be another time that I kick and scream and cry in front of someone and if that would be enough to stop them. I wonder if someone will ever "keep" me again, fighting for my life, for several hours.

#mental health #ptsd #metoo

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micahsmusing · 7 years

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Identity of One Millennial

I am 27 years old and just beginning to unlock my desire to milk life dry of experience and dream chasing. It took years of tangible life experience to figure out that I did not want the future that others had planned for me. I was greater than the glass ceiling projections that had been so coercively placed inches above my head. From a young age I had been a dreamer and doer but years of being told to fit in a mold of idealism left me without confidence, courage, or hope. Yet, through all the pressures of socialization, I always knew that I looked at the world differently than the people around me. My mother was born the middle child in a family of six children. She was raised during the 1950’s and 60’s when women’s domestication was being challenged and rivaled by the realization that we could achieve any dream we cherished in our hearts. I believe this sentiment of freedom unnerved my mother. She drifted backward across decades of hard won battles fought by both men and women to free women from the restrictions placed on them by both the patriarchy and social pressures women forced upon each other. Instead of embracing the challenge of freedom she shrunk back into a comfortable existence. One in which she always had to hold herself back from upstaging her husband by learning both to manipulate his ego and detract from her own natural ability. My father was a victim of the patriarchy as much as my mother was self imprisoned by it. Though he was a large man, strong and fully capable of any task, he was never quite masculine enough, or rich enough, or influential enough to fit the ideals of being a “real man”. He spent his life trying to prove his worth to people who simply didn’t care or to sharks who devoured his efforts and left him with even less confidence than he started with. That left me, their oldest child and only daughter in a lifelong defensive position. For my mother, I was never “pure” enough or modest enough. I was always challenging my father when he would fly into a rage and mistreat my mother and little brother. For my mother, that meant I was not demur enough and this would be a greatly unmarriageable trait in a woman. For my Father, I regretfully realized only much later, it only challenged his masculinity further. I broke their hearts because I didn't understand who they were or where they were coming from. Instead, challenge I became only served as a great source of energy for my father to tame his little shrew and after many explosive interactions I was broken into silence. By the middle of high school I was dragged about by both parents and paraded in the faces of each of their friends as a trophy of etiquette and humility. I had to be a Sunday school teacher, and sing in the worship band. I had to be smart but not so smart that I had my own mind. Little by little my individual identity was stripped away and I became a porcelain doll; painted perfectly but truly hollow inside. I hated the world of humans. To me, no one wanted anything for free. There were rules in the world of people. Rules you had to conform to in order to survive day to day life. As often as I could, I would sneak away and find refuge in nature and in my own imagination. I wasn’t allowed to have my driver's license until I was 18 because my parents wanted me close to home and “safe” from the treacherous world. When I finally learned to drive I would leave home for hours on end. I would drive through the fire-kissed sequoias of the Sierra Nevadas and I would discover every possible access road to my safe havens in the hills. These long drives gave me time to wonder what was wrong with me. I often mulled over the problem that I felt more kindred a connection with the wildness and freedom of the mountains, summer meadow flowers, and free roaming animals than I did with the members of my species. When I attempted to fight for justice I failed. When I sat quietly, I forced my own forfeit. I was the girl on the outside. Girl on the outside could never fit in. She didn’t fit at home, she didn’t fit as a wild thing. She had no one who looked at her without seeing a quantitative pay out. Girl on the outside was hollow and without purpose, identity, or connection. Through all of this confusion, I did the only thing people do. I adapted. I learned the social game I'd been taught and tried my hardest to play by the rules. I squeezed and pinched myself into this prefabricated box of the ideal and I never looked up to see the glass above my head. Even now my self consciousness says that telling this story breaks my look of strength and says I'm good enough to play like the others do. But I learned that showing weakness and being transparent shows much more courage than hiding the dark spots away. I learned this lesson in much the same way that I had learned others. This time, I did something different. Every once in a while, life throws something at you so hard it shakes the foundations of every construct you’ve built around you. Life gave me some powerful blows that knocked me so far off everything I had built that I had to start squeezing and pinching to fit in again. But life gave me something else. It gave me a Professor. This man treated me as an intellectual equal. He challenged my ideas and welcomed my challenging of his. He encouraged me to push through the limitations I had set in my own mind and drove me forward with a hungry curiosity to really understand the world like I never had before. He gave me books that confused me and made me frustrated at the darkness in the world and then showed me that these authors felt the same pressure of idealistic boxes that I did. Instead of asking me to think about the words on the page or regurgitate the information I’d read, he asked me to understand how the author was trying to insight change in the world. Literature and Professor Fritz changed my life. I was no longer girl on the outside. Instead I was a person of valuable thought. I read everything I could get my hands on and the more I read, the more I realized that every one has felt this societal pressure in a multitude of ways. The more I read through eras of history, philosophy, and social change, the more I realized that simply embracing yourself and being courageous enough to tell your story can change the way people look at the world. It can change the way they behave and it can inspire others who’s hearts have been broken by human greed and human pride to break free of their respective chains. It can stir a generation into action and fuel a revolution. I have been practicing this notion of freedom and I have many kindred spirits. The people who frown at our ideas and ridicule our desire to reshape the world are people like my own parents, broken, afraid, demoralized, and locked away in the comfort of their constructed reality, and knowing no better. I don’t hate those people, I pity them. To be locked away, hating everything that challenges your ideals because if one block in their wall is revealed as false, their who facade comes tumbling down. These are the people who blame millennials for changing the status quo. They tell us we are weak and distracted by technology, incapable of human interaction, and clueless about the mechanics of the world. The reality is that together we have build some of the biggest interpersonal networks of knowledge, cultural exchange, information, and human connection in the entire history of the human race. We have banded together to become empathetic and understanding and no longer tolerate corporate creed, racism, sexism, or even extreme nationalism. We have learned that no matter what you look like or where you come from, you are just like me. Struggling people on the outside. Battling their own wastelands of isolation, We, as a generation, have learned how to reach out and support each other from around the globe. THAT is the change we are bringing. We are here to shake up the establishment of social constraint and economic oppression and eradicate the comfort of constructed reality. THAT is why we are so often railed against. Because we no longer accept the glass ceiling. We thrive on innovation and new ideas and we realize that we have to fix ourselves in order to save ourselves rather than tear down whoever we perceive to be our competition in a survival of the fittest. We are truth tellers and we refuse to wear blinders or be canaries in a cage. I am 27 years old and I am just beginning to tap into my talents, my dreams, my gifts, and my humanity. I am telling my story because I will no longer be silenced by the “ideal”. I am no longer a hollow porcelain doll and I have realized that my beauty is the light within my own unique heart. I am girl unchained.

#essay #identity #unification #millennials #worldview #girlunchained

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