there is literally nothing a man who I am not attracted to in any shape or form can do to make me want him
I hate this idea that there are tips and tricks to getting women like the fact that you have to essentially deceive and disguise yourself in order for someone to like you is sf scary and weird to me
it also reinforces the idea that when a woman says no she means convince me or continue to try different things
like wtf that’s scary and violent thinking
I see this shit perpetuated in so many narratives within movies, television it’s scary af
and there are men who think this shit is normal that scares me
I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. Like a five-year-old, I want to close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, stomp my feet on the floor and scream “No! No, you cannot make me, I won’t, leave me alone!” I am, simply put, too tired. So very, very tired.
I am tired of fighting with my friends. I am tired of arguing that someone groping and slapping my butt isn’t “what I have to expect”, just because I’m at a bar, and the one attacking my butt has a drink in the other hand. I am tired of hearing “boys will be boys” and “when you’re dressed like that …” and “that’s just what guys do”. I am tired of trying to drown those sentiments in loud, repetitive no’s, screamed over and over again, till my throat is sore and my voice weak – just to hear them repeated, as soon as exhaustion threatens to silence me.
I am tired of being afraid. I am tired of seeing someone writing something offensive, sexist, racist, ageist, ableist, somewhere online. I am tired of seeing those writings getting likes and lol’s, and SO TRUE’s. I am tired of being consumed by confusion and anger, typing, typing, typing and typing a seemingly endless response, including research, links and statistics, and then hesitate clicking “submit”. I am tired of knowing that I hesitate because I am afraid of the flood of responses that will come. I am tired of knowing that I will be bombarded with lighten up’s, stop whining’s and get a sense of humor’s for so long, that I will start to wonder if I am indeed wound up too tight, a nagger and humorless. I am tired of the fact that I’m afraid of being called a cunt, even though I don’t find genitalia insulting or demeaning.
I’ve always been a big fan of night classes because a) they don’t require me to get up early and 2) I get to get the whole class over with in one 3hr chunk and then I don’t have to think about that class again for a whole week which is outstanding. So when I was in college I always took as many night classes as I could get away with and, of course, every semester there were announcements made by teachers, staff, etc. about how women shouldn’t walk around on campus alone at night, use the buddy system, etc because you’re more likely to get assaulted if you’re alone and blah blah blah.
So, of course, having grown up in a rape culture and having been assaulted before in my life I was always worried whenever my night classes let out. I didn’t use the buddy system, I would walk back to my car alone, but I was always hyper aware and hyper terrified and I always kept my phone out with the number for the campus police already dialed and my finger on the send button just in case (which is a terrible way to live, obviously, but that’s an analysis for a different day).
One night I was walking back to my car after class like any other day when this guy chatted me up. We were exiting the building at the same time and he started a conversation with me in some seemingly innocuous but obviously contrived way and of course I’ve been trained to always be “polite” so I chatted back despite the fact that I didn’t really want to. I just wanted to get to my car and go home but his desire to talk to me seems to have trumped that… At some point, when we were, of course, in a darkened corner in between buildings with nobody around, he asked me for my number. I told him that I don’t give my number out and he asked for my email address instead and rather than just say “no” like I wanted to (because I was very aware of our alone situation and the potential for badness) I made up some excuse, something about me never checking it or some such. Apparently two sort of nos was enough for him and he shoved me against the wall of a building, got right in my face, less than an inch from my nose, and said in a rather menacing tone “Ragen, give me your number.” So I made up a fake number and gave it to him and then like a switch had gotten flipped he backed off and acted like that little moment of violence had never happened and continued to chat at me like we were friends.
That was one of the most horrifying moments of my life right there and from that moment on I have always given fake numbers out to men requesting them just in case someone else decides to take my attempt at a kind refusal as an incitement to violence. The whole way home that night I was terrified he was following me and I never told anyone what happened and even though nearly a decade has passed I can still hear his voice, heavy with threat, demanding that I give him what he wants…