TW rape culture, and irl rape apologists being gross..
glompkitty:
Fuck.
While flyering for Slutwalk in Queens today an old lady invaded my personal space, literally got in my face (as in there was almost no distance at all between our faces, whatsoever), and started yelling at me about how it’s womens’ fault when they get raped. She kept yelling “Dress More Modestly!” and “Educate Yourself!” whenever I quoted statistics at her.
Eventually I got so upset I exploded and the people around us (who weren’t slutwalk organizers) all ran away from me, because all they saw was a twenty something yelling at an old lady.
After she left I couldn’t even stand up right. I was shaking so badly, and my legs felt like they were made of jelly. I just stood behind our table concentrating on my breathing as one of my friends hugged me and gave me water.
Fuck.
I ended up spending almost all the rest of the flyering event hiding behind the table. Normally I’m the one handing out flyers on the street constantly making eye contact with random people, using openers like “Want to put an end to sexualized violence?” and “Say rape is never OK.”
Not today.
On the positive side, I had a really awesome dinner in Queens. Yay?
People like that are the problem.
(Source: glompcat)
2:01 am • 21 August 2011 • 2 notes
When it comes to rape apologists,
elyseface:
No, there are not two legitimate sides to the argument. There are are people against rape and people excusing rapists.
Full. Stop.
(Source: shewalkslikethunder, via glompcat)
2:30 am • 20 August 2011 • 18 notes
I want to love myself so badly.
fromvictim-tosurvivor:
I want to be able to look at myself without disgust.
I want to see a body that wasn’t used.
I want to look at myself and see the girl I was before.
I don’t want to starve, because I know I’m slowly killing myself.
I don’t want to hate myself because it’s standing in my own way.
I don’t want to despise every part of my body because of what they have done to me.
I want to conquer my fear.
My fear of looking at myself.
My fear of seeing the damage they have done.
My fear of having everyone see a raped girl.
I want to love.
Love myself.
That way, I might be able to conquer what they’ve done to me.
I don’t want to be fat, damaged and worthless.
I want to be enough.
Enough for myself.
Enough for you.
I want to fight myself.
In order to fight everything else.
4:00 am • 19 August 2011 • 24 notes
