You cant describe it with words, it has no meaning. It refuses to be talked about accurately. It doesnt live or thrive in specific places and only those places. You cant escape it by running away. Everybody feels it but no two humans feel it the same. It will slowly creep up on you whenever it wants. So dont turn your back on it and forget that you have an enemy. Because as soon as you do it creeps back in, slowly, or all at once. But one day you will wake up and it will have taken total control over your body, mind and soul. It will posses you and live through you. Your friends may notice, or they may not. For all you know they are passive in their bodies too, a prisoner in their own head who is held captive and tortured. Your body will begin to reflect it, take on its ugliness. It may not let you go for days, month or years and even when it does the memory of it and the potential of it happening again will always linger with you. This monster doesnt have a face other than yours, its inside of you shining through the bags under your eyes and the tear streaming down your face. It poisons your brain feeding you toxic thoughts of hatred for others and for yourself. It convinces you that youre not worth the skin on your bones and the food in your stomach. It is your enemy for life pretending to be you, convincing your mind and body that it is who you are. It doesnt sleep but it lives in the dark. And piece by piece it will take apart your soul, your heart, and your mind. Nothing will help. Nothing except you. You fighting back with everything you have erasing this foul creature from your body, and your mind. Remember you have all the power because it is YOUR body and YOUR mind to control. Fight this enemy everyday and every night. Take no losses and never turn your back because when you do it will be there. In the darkness. Ready to eat you. Ready to beat you.
Would you wear a KKK shirt in public? Would you make an entire Youtube video explaining that you’re part of the KKK because “white people suffer too?” Because “White people die too” or “white people are raped too.” And imagine a world where you do this and it gets over 3 million likes and the majority of people are in support of that insanity. This is MENINISM. And as it would be racist to see this going on, it is sexist. AND ITS ALL IS WRONG. Imagine a world were a white boy can wear a KKK shirt to school and not be punished or sent home the whole day. Well I’ve seen boys leaving highschools, or even universities wearing MENINIST shirts. Loud and proud. And unpunished. Dont get me wrong, women do it too. Its insanity. In fact the youtube video mentioned earlier was not dealing with racism but rather was a woman listing statistics of the amount of men who have been raped etc. and using this as her argument towards the importance of meninism. So I hope others who have been oppressed can recognize this as wrong and help to change this society we live in. Help a sister out.
We live in a country where there has never been a female president. We live in a country were a career driven woman is seen as a bitch rather than a boss. We live in a country where many people will say we dont need feminism (granted some places need it more). We live in a country where a movement towards gender equality is viewed as annoying and “whiny” rather than strong. A country where feminists are viewed as crazy instead of powerful and smart. We live in a country where oppression still thrives in terms of race, sex, religion, etc. HOW IS MENINISM BEING CELEBRATED IT IS OPPRESSION, IT IS SEXISM.
Today I overheard an inspiring conversation between a 8 year old boy and a 7 year old girl that gave me so much hope for the future of society. The boy told his cousin to “be a lady” and this struck a nerve with me so I turned to see what was going on. Of course I had expected the worst but what he said next shocked me, in the best way possible. You have to be a lady, grow up and jump in the pool. You know like be a man but be a lady. That is an unedited version of exactly what this boy said. He was telling her to be brave, to be strong, to be a lady. Now i dont know if he was just naturally that wise or if his parents deserve serious props but whatever the case may be he taught me something. He taught me that when children of any gender are faced with situations, such as being scared to jump in a cold pool, they should be encouraged to be strong. Boy or girl.
My body didn’t do what my brothers did. Growing up everyone told me things like you look just like your dad and you and your younger brother could be twins. It was clear later that they were only referring to my face because my body didn’t end up the way my brothers did. Where he grew in height I grew in weird horizontal directions. My baby brother passed me in height and without me even noticing we stopped physically fighting because he had an unfair advantage. It was then that I realized he had stopped fighting me because he had grown much stronger and knew he would hurt me. He did it to protect me. The law about men not hitting women then made sense to me. All the while where his chest and nipples stayed the same, mine grew two chunks of fat behind my now enlarged nipples. The law then told me I wasn’t allowed to show them like my brother could. While he could go to the beach in just swim trunks or just walk around with no shirt on, my extra lumps stopped me from being able to do that. My body turned “Indecent” while his just got stronger and taller. I also began growing hair in areas of my body that hair had never been long before my brother did. While I started shaving my armpit in grade 5 and my legs in grade 6, around the same time I began to wax my eyebrows every two week, my brother didn’t began to grow hair until he was 15. The difference was he was just focused on recess and the struggles of elementary school during those grades when I was realizing my body was changing forever and I was hating my body for that. The next step was when my pubic hair began to grow past my bathing suit line and I had to undergo painful shaving, waxing and razer burn in an area I hadn’t even really discovered yet. But when my brother began to grow hair at the age of 15 is when I noticed that this brought very little change to him. Instead of a burden to him he was now considered “more manly” because he could grow a beard. On top of all that he wasn’t expected to shave it. His body hair was a sign of his manliness while mine was considered disgusting and had to be shaved every single day. My facial hair that grew the tiniest bit above my upper lip deemed me unkissable and so that too I began to wax. The next change was the worst. I knew it was coming but that one day I noticed blood in my underwear somehow hurt the most. I knew from then on I would pay each month for products to stop this bleeding. Nothing can describe how it felt to be a young girl forced to shove a tampon up her tiny vagina. Nothing can compare to the stress when it hurt so bad and I still couldn’t get it in. It took many tries with days in between for recovery and when it finally did go in I had to lay on my stomach in my bed for an hour in pain with a heating pad under me. I could hear my baby brother downstairs playing video games with his friends completely unaware of the pain I just went through, that he would never have to. And then there were the cramps. It was something unlike any pain Id ever felt before, it was crippling. I had to walk hunched over some days and spend hours on my stomach, grouchy and emotional and in so much fucking pain. This goes on for a week every month, with no less pain. I was expected to do everything my brother was at that age while in this pain and dealing with so many more things than him, how was this fair? As a girl I also realized quickly that boys were allowed to joke about shitting and masterbating but I was not allowed to mention my period or any of those topics myself. Boys winced hearing just the word and cashiers made me feel awkward buying myself the equivalent of toilet paper, tampons and pads. How would you feel if everytime you bought toilet paper you got embarrassed? So again my bodily changes were indecent and frowned upon by society. I started to notice also that though my brother could speak freely on shitting and masterbating and watching porn, when I wanted to it was considered gross and “unlady like”. I had to do all these things in private because I was made to feel shame about things my brother was made to feel proud of. Then came sex where I was now expected to please men any way I could. I was expected to let things much larger than tampons enter my tiny hole and boy did it hurt like a bitch that first time. The first time wasn’t enjoyable and honestly neither were the second and third. But for my brother his first time felt awesome, he got to finish. As a woman I realized I was also expected to fake an orgasm when I didn’t achieve one during sex while a man was almost always guaranteed one. I also now had to go to the doctors every couple of months and take a pill every day to prevent a baby. Honestly, at times I also had to buy the condoms to protect myself because I knew if I got pregnant it would not be the boys body that changed, it would be mine. And I knew it would not be the boy who had to squeeze a very large baby out of a hole that once hurt to put a tampon in, it would be me. And on top of that it would not be the boy who’s life had to be changed forever, it would be me giving up school and a career to raise the baby alone. The other option would be to go to a clinic and pay for a painful operation that would weigh on my conscience for the rest of my life as I kill my unborn baby. While he would be home playing video games without a care in the world. On top of all of that now every year I had to get my vagina cranked open in a cold room by a male doctor to make sure I was clean. All the while I was waking up earlier than my brother, doing my hair and makeup and choosing an outfit to impress boys and my brother would wake up fifteen minutes before class, fall asleep in the shower for a bit and just run to school as is. This doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what it means to be a girl and the struggles we all face. But at least I can vote and wear pants now right?
Depression is an evil concept. You experience it, it slowly kills you from the inside out. It hurts you the most because it is you. You are the depression you feel. It is your own brain fighting against yourself. If someone calls you ugly or fat it could hurt but the only time you really feel this pain is if you believe it, if you call yourself ugly or fat. Its when your at war with yourself, the worst critic, that you will always lose and experience depression. Whats worse is that mine was gone, I thought. I truly believed it was just aa phase I would get over, and I guess it is for the most part. But what sucks is over the past month Ive slowly slipped into that same phase again. But this time its so much worse. I guess its because I was so truly happy and I know what that feels like and then it crept in again.
I never lose arguments, Im very smart and Im always right. Which is great and all, until im internally at war with myself.
I didnt think anything of it until one morning, for no particular reason, I woke up but I forced myself to sleep again because I honestly didnt want tot live the day through. Dont get me wrong, im smart and I know suicide is not an option. But that morning I didnt want to face the world and that is something I hadnt experienced….at least not lately. Thats when I knew this was a problem. So I stayed up late and meditated until I could laugh again. I took a 2 am walk trying to cure myself of this wretched disease. I stayed up until I appreciated myself again. Or just a little bit more than the day before. It worked for a while but depressions not that simple.
A few days later I found myself on a public bathroom floor in the basement of a building alone, and crying. This time it was different because it was caused by someone else but because I was already hurting it destroyed me. I was on the floor, out loud crying, wiping my eyes with 1 ply toilet paper praying nobody would come in. Because apparently depression tricks you into believing you should face it alone. I did this for hours until my face was permanently blotchy and my eyes puffy. Then it clicked to me that the person had no idea they could cause this in me, they destroyed me with one text. It wasnt his fault, it was depressions fault. But what I realized is I should not be at war with myself because Im all I have. I dictate my happiness so why did I let his text cause this. Then I looked in the mirror and laughed for 10 minutes straight. Laughed out loud. I watched myself as I laughed and I saw my imperfections. But this time I saw my beauty too. I decide to stop the war i my head and fight the world with all I have. Fight life and all the shit it throws at you. I created just a tiny bit of happiness in that bathroom that day. Isnt that powerful? My beautiful mind has the power to break me but also the incredible power to create happiness. To decide to feel happy and stop the depression. Obviously it doesnt just disappear and I still fight it to this day but I dont let it win. I take it day by day and little by little. I will always remember that bathroom floor because I learned one of the most important lessons there.
Dont fight yourself, fight the world and those against you. Meditate, create happiness, love life and everyone around you. Love nature, believe in something, fight for something. Be optimistic and positive.
Also, for the boy who caused this thank you. You gave me something to fight against that wasnt myself. You forced me to put myself back together. But the other lesson here is to watch what you say because you never know what can push someone over the edge. Your words are powerful so use them to spread love and light never negativity. -XOV
God why did I fall for you
Today is the full moon…in march of 2015. In july of 2014 exactly 8 full moons ago I wrote that first little note in my phone saying fuck the full moon. And boy did I mean it. I find that weird though because I saw you that night. I picked you up and dropped you off. The boy I was ignorantly in love with. I was completely infatuated with you but my life has completely changed. I moved away, made a new life, found a new boy to obsess over. I still see you on social media and sure I feel like we couldve been better, like we couldve been great, but thats long gone now. I want to see you, to be near you, to try to understand why 8 moons ago I felt so passionately about you that I would swear off full moons for good. The full moon is so beautiful but it has nothing on you, gorgeous boy. Ill stand by that. But I still cant help but be jealous of the girl who wrote that note those many moons ago, because she still knew you, saw you, loved you. On top of that, half a moon later she spent her last night with you. I, on the other hand, may never see you again. I had my last sleep with you in early august. Is it weird to miss you? I guess its not you I miss though…its me. That beautifully infatuated, carefree, hopeful version of me. So why is it you that has to cross my mind and now I’ve stained another notebook with words you’ll never care to read. Words Ill never care IF you read. So you should have kissed me that night, gave me closure, let me feel you. Because then I could still at least be infatuated with the full moon.
Through writing this I learned something very important. I just realized I have already learned the lesson that I needed to in order to deal with the situation Im in now. The truth is Im still not strong enough to tell this boy I want him, I honestly think Im less strong. But I will try and I think thats a step in the right direction. I will try to make the full moon beautiful again.
Your laugh is therapeutic to me. Your smile is enough to turn my day around completely and make everything in the world seem perfect. It makes me happy to hear your voice. It makes me excited. You do it so effortlessly yet it can affect me so physically and emotionally. I cant help but have a stupid smile across my face when I hear you laugh. My heart pounds at your smile and your eyes as you look at me. It is so calming for me to hear you talking, laughing and carrying on in the room beside me. I guess its like if I know your okay and happy, I can be okay and happy. I fucking hate that you have that power and so much control over me. You can dictate my emotions without even knowing it and there is no way I can do the same. Fuck you for making me scared of the day your not there to take my pain away. Fuck you for making me so insecure and vulnerable. I hate you but I need you…
I wanna write something for you. I want to write something to hurt you. To tell you how you hurt me. I want to write something to explain to you what we could have been, what we could have had. I want to write to explain my feelings toward you but god damn I wish I could understand them myself. I want to write to you and tell you that my feelings have been lost towards you. I want to write to you and tell you seeing you with her hurts me. I want to write to you and tell you seeing you with her makes me laugh harder than it hurts. I want to write to you and tell you I love you. I want to write to you and tell you Im over you. Too bad I cant figure out which one I believe more. I want to write to you and tell you how happy I am that your happy. I want to write to explain my loneliness. I want to write to you to tell you not to worry, Im a strong girl. I want to write to you and tell you Im neutral towards you. I want to write to you that I want to be your friend. I want to write to you and tell you to come cuddle me. I want to write to you and tell you I would have loved you harder than anyone ever could and you could have not made the safe choice. Because Im also the safe choice but Im dangerous in your eyes. However, I want to write to you and tell you that you lost your chance and for that were both going to be sorry.
I love the feeling the day after a workout when you have literally crippled yourself. You cant sit on your ass without the muscle burning. Not to mention when you struggle to roll out of bed because every ab burns and your back muscles send rippling pain through you with every movement. I love holding onto the walls trying to lower myself onto the toilet and I love the strain of pulling yourself up with your sore arms and then stumbling off because every muscle in your legs, abs, and back feel a piercing pain. You have literally crippled yourself for a few days, day two being the worst. I love that feeling because it means I havent worked out it a while and yet I found it in me to start from scratch and rip every muscle in my body in order for them to repair themselves and for me to grow stronger. I am strengthening my heat and my lungs and slowly adding years onto my life. And here I am throwing myself out of bed with my sore muscles, stumbling down the stairs, eating a healthy breakfast and doing it all again.
One of the most beautiful experiences is that night when you go to sleep and you dont think of them. You dont dream about them anymore, when at some point in your life it felt like thats all you could do, like they controlled you. They were stuck in your head like a bad song that was way too catchy. Theyre what you think about before you sleep and what you think about when you wake up. When you see couples out in public, you think of them. When you find a nice hangout spot, you picture bringing them there. That was me, for a year straight just thinking about you. But the other day I put my head down and I saw your name pop up on my phone, but it was different. I didnt get excited or nervous when I saw your name, sure I smiled, but who wouldnt. I put my head back down and started thinking and I quickly realized my mind didnt wonder straight to you, and it hadnt for months. This was when I first realized my freedom from you and my unsatisfied desire for you had vanished. I had freedom from you and I know that next time I see you my heart wont skip a beat, my cheeks wont flush and I wont still love you. This idea makes me smile and makes me so proud because baby I survived you. However, it was another boy who my mind wandered to in a similar way it used to wander to you. He is the reason Im free of you and he pushed you out of my mind, but now I struggle with being free of him.