ADULTHOOD IS A S#!%SHOW
Amal Clooney is my secret obsession. I just think she’s so fucking gorgeous, stylish, erudite, iconic, articulate, groundbreaking, just a lady and a full package. Urgh, she’s just a perfect feminist icon. She came to change the world, not play games. Amal you are so major and badass, will you accept this rose of adoration? Give me your eyebrows! You are the moment. Via: Time Magazine
Representation matters. Making sure it’s an accurate depiction, not a caricature created from the white imagination, is essential. What a historical day. Intersectional feminism wins. Congratulations Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson. Please stop acting like black women don’t have common sense, compassion and haven’t been saving everyone since forever. She’s overqualified, but who did you rush in prior? Do you think she called and said we did it Joe? Via: Green Peace USA & Minority Millennials
Via: Educated Minds Page
Stop catcalling! It’s disrespectful and displays a lack of self-control, a disregard of humanity towards women (we aren’t animals to scream random names at like Slim), and it makes us feel unsafe. It’s no way to court someone, not cute, not romantic. It’s uncomfortable. Women don’t owe you anything, especially our precious time of day. Why do you catcall? How does being catcalled make you feel? Artist: She Got The Pink
And since we all came from a woman
Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman
I wonder why we take from our women
Why we rape our women, do we hate our women?
I think it’s time to kill for our women
Time to heal our women, be real to our women
And if we don’t we’ll have a race of babies
That will hate the ladies, that make the babies
And since a man can’t make one
He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one
So will the real men get up
I know you’re fed up ladies, but keep your head up.
*Guys be like Tupac the realest lyrics ever.
Via: The Industry MGMT
What would you add? Artist: Giulia J Rosa
Pondering my reaction to Mick Jagger’s treatment, my mostly gone anxiety and fear of excessive attention, I had an epiphany. Eureka! It wasn’t just white men, no no no, my need to shrink myself started with my stepdad. When it was just us girls, my sister and I, he instilled extreme sexism in us. We did chores as early as 8 for me, which meant 6 for my sister. It wasn’t the labor, it was why he made us do it. In his archaic mind our sole occupation in life was bagging a husband. Never once did he ask us what we wanted to be, only drilling us about the domestic mistakes made. He also told us children should be seen and not heard. Making us sit in silence for hours if we went with him after school (but if we were at Josephine’s, a no nonsense white woman who dragged him in her raspy cigarette laden voice, we were allowed freedom).
“Get the fuck out of here with that, children are made to play. Get up and play.”
“Sit down, I said sit down you sit. THEY MY KIDS ,” he railed in patois.
“IT’S MY FUCKING HOUSE I SAY WHAT GOES. GET UP AND PLAY. YOU DON’T TELL ME, OR THEM WHAT TO DO IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR GOT DAMN MIND.” She won.
He belittled us as people every chance he got. Then he’d sate us with all the latest gadgets: Techno Dog, electronic diary’s, Lisa Frank everything, Furbies, Tamagochi’s, Giga Pets, Barbies, our porcelain doll collection, those sparkly castles that doubled as teapots, you know the ones, Spice Girl lollipops, any and everything under the sun. But I was terribly depressed, elementary school is when I was my most suicidal. Every night I prayed to God to take me in my sleep. One time I screamed it at my mom.
“I just wanna die already, I never asked to be here.” Unsure of how to react she made me sit in a corner, her feelings were hurt. That’s what she told me later.
Women are not inferior. We are people who deserve to make our own choices about our own lives. My stepdad did not treat us as humans; no amount of material items could amend the psychological trauma it caused. Look how long it’s taken me to dismantle. Playing small for me is over, I will not apologize for being a powerful fucking woman. I’m not here to make you comfortable. My purpose is to take out anyone who wants to stick to oppressive paradigms. Compassion is for the people who deserve it. Run pull up. In what ways does misogyny shape your life? Do you benefit from, or suffer from it? If the former how do you use it to aid others? Via: Feminist Jazzy
This is the vibe. I’m still working on my second article, but I’m a writer if the words don’t flow I don’t press go. It will definitely be up later tonight as in early morning, or tomorrow before evening. Trust. Enjoy your weekend, with they way American wages aren’t livable and women still aren’t treated equally, the climate destroying our land and people placing profit over people, you deserve it. Unless you’re contributing to the problems at hand. Actually you should enjoy it too, it’s as good as it gets. Time only passes doesn’t it? Via: Love Fool.99
Periods, are a valid reason for bad moods. You’re literally bleeding out for days, like a wounded animal. I may not be a carcass due to it, but I’m: irascible, bloated, cramping, my lower back aches, my tits are throbbing and you’re breathing too loud and talking too much. Give me chocolate then be gone.
Also not having your period is a valid reason for a woman’s bad mood. We are indeed human beings, with feelings, sometimes those feelings aren’t great. That being said, stop telling us to fucking smile. Mind your business altogether. We aren’t robots programmed with one emotion. When was your last bad mood? Why? How did you get past it? Artist: Nina Cosford
Don’t you think I know exactly where I stand?
This world is forcing me to hold your hand
‘Cause I’m just a girl, oh, little old me
Well, don’t let me out of your sight
Oh, I’m just a girl, all pretty and petite
So don’t let me have any rights
Oh, I’ve had it up to here
Oh, am I making myself clear?
I’m just a girl
I’m just a girl in the world
That’s all that you’ll let me be
Oh, I’m just a girl, living in captivity
Your rule of thumb makes me worrisome
Oh, I’m just a girl, what’s my destiny?
What I’ve succumbed to is making me numb.