Who could ever possibly shit-talk you? When are you ever not nice and awesome?
You can be the nicest person ever (which I am most assuredly not, haha, although I’m glad you think I’m nice! I think YOU’RE nice!) and still have people dislike you. This goes double if you have an opinion, and triple if you ever stand your ground. No one is immune to shit-talk!
“A boy and a girl run around on the grass at the park. The boy tackles the girl. The girl laughs. She gets up and runs away. She loves to run. He chases, she turns and they grab each other, tumble and land in a pile, giggling. After a few minutes, he tackles her again and she lands a bit hard. She is bigger and physical, but he more than holds his own in roughhousing. She pauses for a second. Then she laughs again; she’s still having fun.
Dad gets his attention, and says, “If she’s not having fun, you have to stop.”
He is two. He needs to hear this now, and so does she. And again, and again, and again, so that like wearing a helmet on the bike it is ingrained.”—Yes Means Yes blog: “visions of female sexual power & a world without rape” (via englishistheartofbullshit)
fun prank; tell women they’re only good for romance, sex, and having children. and then laugh at them for wanting romance, shame them for having sex, and act like they have to give up all facets of their personalities if they become mothers
The premise of minimum wage, when it was introduced, was that a single wage earner should be able to own a home and support a family. That was what it was based on; a full time job, any job, should be able to accomplish this.
The fact people scoff at this idea if presented nowadays, as though the people that ring up your groceries or hand you your burgers don’t deserve the luxury of a home and a family, is disgusting.
“Being a feminist doesn’t mean suddenly no longer liking problematic things. If you stopped liking everything that was sexist in media and entertainment there would be no media or entertainment left. Being a feminist, to me, is being aware of what it is you’re liking, and of its problematic aspects.”—
I’m not going to prevent myself from evolving intellectually out of fear that someone might point out that I used to think differently. Well, of course I did, I’ve just come across evidence potent enough to transform my world view in the meantime. I’m not going to stagnate ideologically just for the sake of consistency.
Also this disregards the fact that (most) men are just as influenced by body image in media and society as most women—so what they will deem ‘attractive’ and ‘normal’ will come from those same sources that make women feel so inadequate.
maybe I could have addressed my brother’s statement more clearly in the comic, but my implied point was: it doesn’t actually matter what individual men think. Women aren’t doing this for them. Or rather that’s only one drop in a pail of issues. Maybe attractiveness only mattered for finding a mate back in the olden days, but that is pretty clearly not the world we live in now. There’s a lot more at stake here than just being able to get a date.
I love my brother so I tried to explain it to him using that story. He is going to be married soon and it matters to him because his fiance’s well-being matters to him. A lot of men don’t understand why they can tell a women she’s beautiful and her body issues don’t go away. If attractiveness only mattered for finding a mate, wouldn’t the issue be settled at that point? She has a mate and he finds her attractive. But it’s definitely not the end of that story.
Here’s the real problem, and it’s twofold:
1. attractiveness is rigidly defined, and
2. women are told that they have to fit that narrow definition of “attractive” in order to be worth ANYTHING, and not just in situations where physical appearance is relevant.
Women with body issues are fighting to be worthy of respect, to be worthwhile not only to the world, but also to themselves. Men need to stop considering themselves the gatekeepers of attractiveness, and stop assuming that everything women do is for the benefit of men, if they want to help. Understand that the struggle is about so, so much more.
Your mind is a home, with an upstairs and a downstairs.
Upstairs, in your consciousness, things are well-lit and regularly swept. Friends visit. Scrabble is played, hot cocoa is brewing. It is a pleasant, familiar place.
Downstairs, it is older, darker and much, much freakier. We call this basement the unconscious mind.
The unconscious is exactly what it sounds like: It’s the stuff you don’t, won’t and/or can’t think about. According to Freud, there are dirty pictures of your mother down there. According to Jung, there are pipes, wires, even tunnels down there that connect your home to others. And even though it contains life-sustaining energies (like the fuse box and water heater), it’s a primitive, stinky, scary place and it’s no wonder that, given the choice, we don’t hang out down there.
However, your pleasure, your sanity and even your life depend on occasional round trips. You’ve got to change the fuses, grab the Christmas ornaments, clean the litter box. To the extent that we keep the basement door sealed, the entire home becomes unstable. The creatures downstairs get louder and the guy upstairs (your ego) tries to cover the noise with neurotic behavior. For some, eventually, the basement door can come right off its hinges and the slimy, primal denizens of the deep can become Scrabble partners. You might call this a nervous breakdown or psychotic break, it doesn’t matter. The point is: Occasional ventures by the ego into the unconscious, through therapy, meditation, confession, sex, violence, or a good story, keep the consciousness in working order.
From Dan Harmon’s Chanel 101 post on story structure. A great read.
“The best books live on in your head long after they are finished. As you read, you are turning the pages faster and faster to find out what happens next, only to feel bereft when you reach the end.”—(via deepbluesilence)
Me (in my head):Oh my God oh my God someone actually likes me! Oh my God I hope they're not messing with me this is the coolest thing EVER We will roll down hills and ride unicorns and bake cakeballs we will ship our unicorns together and then we will fangirl into oblivion! Oh my God oh my God this is not a drill, I repeat, this is NOT a drill! AHHHHH ASDFGHJKL
Me (on keyboard):Thank you darling, I love you too :)