The most frustrating thing about being on tumblr is that it made me conscious about everything thats wrong in the world concerning sexism, racism and misogyny and I’m not eloquent enough in real life to defend myself when someone confronts me.
dont ask me for relationship advice because i will always just tell you to break up w/ them and throw their shit in a dumpster because i do not understand the concept of allowing anyone to treat you poorly this is a zero tolerance zone
When I was seventeen and preparing to leave for university, my mother’s only brother saw fit to give me some advice.
“Just don’t be an idiot, kid,” he told me, “and don’t ever forget that boys and girls can never just be friends.”
I laughed and answered, “I’m not too worried. And I don’t really think all guys are like that.”
When I was eighteen and the third annual advent of the common cold was rolling through residence like a pestilent fog, a friend texted me asking if there was anything he could do to help.
I told him that if he could bring me up some vitamin water that would be great, if it wasn’t too much trouble.
That semester I learned that human skin cells replace themselves every three to five weeks. I hoped that in a month, maybe I’d stop feeling the echoes of his touch; maybe my new skin would feel cleaner.
It didn’t. But I stood by what I said. Not all guys are like that.
When I was nineteen and my roommate decided the only way to celebrate the end of midterms was to get wasted at a club, I humoured her.
Four drinks, countless leers and five hands up my skirt later, I informed her I was ready to leave.
“I get why you’re upset,” she told me on the walk home, “but you have to tolerate that sort of thing if you want to have any fun. And really, not all guys are like that.”
(Age nineteen also saw me propositioned for casual sex by no fewer than three different male friends, and while I still believe that guys and girls can indeed be just friends, I was beginning to see my uncle’s point.)
When I was twenty and a stranger that started chatting to me in my usual cafe asked if he could walk with me (since we were going the same way and all), I accepted.
Before we’d even made it three blocks he was pulling me into an alleyway and trying to put his hands up my shirt. “You were staring,” he laughed when I asked what the fuck he was doing (I wasn’t), “I’m just taking pity.”
But not all guys are like that.
I am twenty one and a few days ago a friend and I were walking down the street. A car drove by with the windows down, and a young man stuck his head out and whistled as they passed. I ignored it, carrying on with the conversation.
My friend did not. “Did you know those people?” He asked.
“Not at all,” I answered.
Later when we sat down to eat he got this thoughtful look on his face. When I asked what was wrong he said, “You know not all guys do that kind of thing, right? We’re not all like that.”
As if he were imparting some great profound truth I’d never realized before. My entire life has been turned around, because now I’ve been enlightened: not all guys are like that.
No. Not all guys are. But enough are. Enough that I am uncomfortable when a man sits next to me on the bus. Enough that I will cross to the other side of the street if I see a pack of guys coming my way. Enough that even fleeting eye contact with a male stranger makes my insides crawl with unease. Enough that I cannot feel safe alone in a room with some of my male friends, even ones I’ve known for years. Enough that when I go out past dark for chips or milk or toilet paper, I carry a knife, I wear a coat that obscures my figure, I mimic a man’s gait. Enough that three years later I keep the story of that day to myself, when the only thing that saved me from being raped was a right hook to the jaw and a threat to scream in a crowded dorm, because I know what the response will be.
I live my life with the everburning anxiety that someone is going to put their hands on me regardless of my feelings on the matter, and I’m not going to be able to stop them. I live with the knowledge that statistically one in three women have experienced a sexual assault, but even a number like that can’t be trusted when we are harassed into silence. I live with the learned instinct, the ingrained compulsion to keep my mouth shut to jeers and catcalls, to swallow my anger at lewd suggestions and crude gestures, to put up my walls against insults and threats. I live in an environment that necessitates armouring myself against it just to get through a day peacefully, and I now view that as normal. I have adapted to extreme circumstances and am told to treat it as baseline. I carry this fear close to my heart, rooted into my bones, and I do so to keep myself unharmed.
So you can tell me that not all guys are like that, and you’d even be right, but that isn’t the issue anymore. My problem is not that I’m unaware of the fact that some guys are perfectly civil, decent, kind—my problem is simply this:
In a world where this cynical overcaution is the only thing that ensures my safety, I’m no longer willing to take the risk.
"6 Insane Sex Myths People Used to Teach as Facts"
including things like how westerners apparently thought that Chinese women who immigrated had sideways vaginas and that doctors attributed any number of problems to the fact that they believed women’s uteri could detach themselves when the woman was not pregnant and scamper around the woman’s innards like some sort of wayward jellyfish blob.
Hilarious, right? Can’t believe people used to think that! Oh, how naive they all were!
Which brings us to women-pee-out-of-their-vagina.
People back then kind of have an excuse for stupid notions, because a lot of the time there wasn’t the technology or research or scientific community to call them out on it in order to spread information that was actually factual.
We do not have that excuse today.
Yes, I heard that, greyface in sunglasses in the second row.
"well we don’t teach ridiculous stuff like that!"
Spoiler Alert: We totally do.
Stuff like the complete erasure of parts of female anatomy, publicly taught and widespread misinformation about others and the fact that I learned more about my own body with 15 minutes on Wikipedia than I did in two mandatory Health classes and a Medical Anatomy class.
Send your arguments at me, believe me, they don’t hold water.
"The clitoris doesn’t have anything to do with reproduction!"
Sex Ed covers more than just reproduction. Every time they sent me home with a little paper for your parent/guardian to sign, they said they would be talking about anatomy as well as reproduction.
"Well, female anatomy is a lot more complicated…"
Doesn’t that mean they should spend more time covering it rather than skipping over the parts they deem ‘unnecessary’? Even in my Medical Anatomy class when we had the diagrams to label, despite there being a clitoris in the diagram, there wasn’t a lil line to write down what it was.
"Maybe they didn’t think it was appropriate to talk about for high school."
How dare they.
Get the pitchforks and burn the witch.
"They don’t talk about male pleasure either!"
I heard aaaaalll about what happens when a dude is aroused and orgasms with the erections and ejaculations and all that nonsense.
Girl orgasms are apparently not a thing. And, depending on the class, neither was female arousal.
(Which I find decidedly disturbing, as a side note.)
"Female orgasms aren’t a part of reproduction either."
BUT IT IS A SIMPLE PHYSICAL REACTION THAT SHOULD BE TAUGHT IF ONLY FOR SCIENTIFIC AND MEDICAL ACCURACY.
"Fine. The clitoris is controversial. That hardly covers the entire spectrum of female sexuality having misinformation and crap."
Apparently you didn’t read the part up above about how I did not learn what happens when a woman is aroused or orgasms in three years of classes that are supposed to teach me about this thing.
"If it took you 15 minutes on Wikipedia to figure stuff out, why are you so mad? That’s hardly a waste of time."
Because I deserve to know about my own body, and when schools teach Sex Ed in any form, they are taking on the responsibility of teaching me that.
And yet, I learned absolutely nothing useful.
That’s a problem.
"Okay, okay. They don’t talk about female sexual reactions, and that’s kinda sexist."
You know what else is kinda sexist? Telling men that sex is great and women that it’s going to hurt and suck and also you’ll get pregnant and die.
What am I talking about, you say?
The hymen. You know, the thing that covers a woman’s vaginal opening and breaks and there’s blood and that’s how you can tell if your girlfriend is lying about whether or not you’re her first.
Well guess what, buddy-boy, you dumped that girl for no reason because that’s not actually what a hymen is and you’re also a jerk.
The hymen is a flexible membrane that partially covers the vaginal opening (usually in a sort of crescent shape when they are but a wee lass) and did you notice the word up there? ‘Flexible’? Do you know what that means? It means that if a woman is sufficiently aroused, it prolly ain’t gonna break. (wow do you think this myth has anything to do with the lack of knowledge we’re taught about female arousal???)
I mean dude you can shove a baby outta that thing and it returns to its original shape, you can’t tell if a woman is a virgin or not by the state of her hymen anyways. They can tear during exercise n stuff as well but there is literally not much of a reason why sex should be painful for girls and why you call it “popping the cherry”
OH WAIT MAYBE IT’S BECAUSE DUDES LIKE TO THINK THAT THEIR DICK HAS MAGICAL POWERS THAT FOREVER CHANGES A WOMAN’S LIFE AND SHE’S NEVER BE THE SAME AFTER YOU WRECKED THAT TIGHT LIL HOLE.
Well, fun fact, if she’s tight that means you kind of suck balls at the whole sex thing.
This isn’t just a matter of some people making a mistake about how women urinate. This is part of a long history of the suppression of female sexuality to the point that when you get a damn diagram of the vulva, apparently they don’t mark where the urethra is because man we don’t want to spend too much time talking about ladyparts frick who knows what’s hiding down there…