Rape culture is when I was six, and
my brother punched my two front teeth out.
Instead of reprimanding him, my mother
said “Stefanie, what did you do to provoke him?”
When my only defense was my
mother whispering in my ear, “Honey, ignore him.
Don’t rile him up. He just wants a reaction.”
As if it was my sole purpose, the reason
six-year-old me existed,
was to not rile up my brother.
It’s starts when we’re six, and ends
when we grow up assuming the natural state of a man
is a predator, and I must walk on eggshells, as to
not “rile him up.” Right, mom?

Rape culture is when through casual dinner conversation,
my father says that women who get raped are asking for it.
He says, “I see them on the streets of New York City,
with their short skirts and heavy makeup. Asking for it.”
When I used to be my father’s hero but
will he think I was asking for it? (will he think)
Will he think I deserved it?
Will he hold me accountable or will he hold me,
even though the touch of a man - especially my father’s -
burns as if I were holding the sun in the palm of my hand.

Rape culture is you were so ashamed, you thought it would
be easier for your parents to find you dead,
than to say, “Hey mom and dad,”
It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for it.
I never asked for this attention, I never asked
to be a target, to be weak because I was born with
two X chromosomes, to walk in fear, to always look behind me,
in front of me, next to me, I never asked to be the prey.
I never wanted to spend my life being something
someone feasts upon, a meal for the eternally starved.
I do not want to hear about the way I taste anymore.
I will not let you eat me alive.

Rape culture is I shouldn’t defend my friend when
an overaggressive frat boy has his hand on her ass,
because standing up for her body “makes me a target.”
Women are afraid to speak up, because
they fear their own lives - but I’d rather take the hit
than live in a culture of silence.
I am told that I will always be the victim, pre-determined
by the DNA in my weaker, softer body.
I have birthing hips, not a fighter’s stance.
I am genetically pre-dispositioned to lose every time.

Rape culture is he was probably abused as a child.
When he even has some form of a justification
and all I have are the things that provoked him,
and the scars from his touch are woven of the darkest
and toughest strings, underneath the layer of my skin.
Rape culture leaves me finding pieces of him left inside of me.
A bone of his elbow. The cap of his knee.
There is something so daunting in the way that I know it will take
me years to methodically extract him from my body.
And that twinge I will get sometimes in my arm fifteen years later?
Proof of the past.
Like a tattoo I didn’t ask for.
Somehow I am permanently inked.

Rape culture is you can’t wear that outfit anymore
without feeling dirty, without feeling like
you somehow earned it.
You will feel like you are walking on knives,
every time you wear the shoes
you smashed his nose in with.
Imaginary blood on the bottom of your heels,
thinking, maybe this will heal me.
Those shoes are your freedom,
But the remains of a life long fight.
You will always carry your heart,
your passion, your absolute will to live,
but also the shame and the guilt and the pain.
I saved myself but I still feel like I’m walking on knives.

Rape culture is “Stefanie, you weren’t really raped, you were
one of the lucky ones.”
Because my body wasn’t penetrated by a penis,
but fingers instead, that I should feel lucky.
I should get on my hands and knees and say, thank you.
Thank you for being so kind.
Rape culture is “things could have been worse.”
“It’s been a month, Stefanie. Get out of bed.”
“You’ll have to get over this eventually.”
“Don’t let it ruin your life.”
Rape culture is he told you that after he touched you,
no one would ever want you again.
And you believed him.

Rape culture is telling your daughters not to get raped,
instead of teaching your sons how to treat all women.
That sex is not a right. You are not entitled to this.
The worst possible thing you can call a woman is a
slut, a whore, a bitch.
The worst possible thing you can call a man is a
bitch, a pussy, a girl.
The worst thing you can call a girl is a girl.
The worst thing you can call a guy is a girl.
Being a woman is the ultimate rejection,
the ultimate dismissal of strength and power, the
absolute insult.
When I have a daughter,
I will tell her that she is not
an insult.

When I have a daughter, she will know how to fight.
I will look at her like the sun when she comes home
with anger in her fists.
Because we are human beings and we do not
always have to take what we are given.
They all tell her not to fight fire with fire,
but that is only because they are afraid of her flames.
I will teach her the value of the word “no” so that
when she hears it, she will not question it.
My daughter,
Don’t you dare apologize for the fierce love
you have for yourself
and the lengths you go to preserve it.

My daughter,
I am alive because of the fierce love I have
for myself, and because my father taught me
to protect that.
He taught me that sometimes, I have to do
my own bit of saving, pick myself off the
ground and wipe the dirt off my face,
because at the end of the day,
there is only me.
I am alive because my mother taught me
to love myself.
She taught me that I am an enigma - a
mystery, a paradox, an unfinished masterpiece and
I must love myself enough to see how I turn out.
I am alive because even beaten, voiceless, and back
against the wall, I knew there was an ounce of me
worth fighting for.
And for that, I thank my parents.

Instead of teaching my daughter to cover herself up,
I will show her how to be exposed.
Because no is not “convince me”.
No is not “I want it”.
You call me,
“Little lady, pretty girl, beautiful woman.”
But I am not any of these things for you.
I am exploding light,
my daughter will be exploding light,
and you,
better cover your eyes.



Rape Culture (Cover Your Eyes)

(Source: aseriesofnouns, via boudiccasrevenge)

Break the Silence. Challenge each other. Stand with Women. This is a Men’s issue. 

Violence & Silence: Jackson Katz, Ph.D at TEDxFiDiWomen (by TEDxTalks)

That’s a direct quote people.

A few days ago I had the rare opportunity to observe young (college) men in their natural habitat… In other words I sat in a stuffy, smelly dorm room full of boys playing Super Smash Bros.

At first it was kinda cute. They sat in this slacked position with their mouths slightly open and eyes locked on the screen. They looked like little boys in giant man bodies. But then they started trash talking.

"I will rape your princess."

"I am getting ass raped right now."

"I’m about to give you the D."

"You are my bitch."

Saying I was instantly uncomfortable would be a gross understatement. I went from feeling like I was the only girl in a room full of guys who all cared about me and would protect and respect me, to feeling like I was the only girl in a room full of guys who believed that Rape was an acceptable way to declare power and dominance over another human being.

Is it really that difficult to limit your trash talk to “I’m gonna kick your ass bro!”? Does that not convey your feelings well enough?

But the problem was… this was mindless, unconscious trash talk. It just flowed from their mouths so easily. 

These are the same men who had earlier expressed rage at the idea of the current spree of gang rapes happening in Europe right now. But their unconscious expression in their trash talk told a different story. Where they expressed rage at other men (particularly non-American, non-white, non-christian men) using rape as a way to send a message, make a statement and declare power and dominance, they seemed to find it perfectly acceptable to use it in this instance. 

So, guys- you know who you are, the words you choose to use DO matter. It is never ok to use your words in a way that normalizes, accepts and even promotes sexual violence against another human being. Be conscious of your trash talk… and leave out the rape comments. Ass kicking should be sufficient. 

So obviously most people are pretty obsessed with the election right now. And to be honest I have the huffington post election results open in one tab, Maryland state results open in another and CNN on my tv right now. I’m not pretending to be unconcerned about the state of the union. However, there is another something buzzing around in my mind so hard that I have nearly forgotten my delicious dinner altogether and it’s getting cold on my coffee table. (If you don’t know me, this says A LOT since I am a starving college student sans meal plan.)

That buzzing topic is the subject of the film “Miss Representation.” I just saw a screening of it tonight and it moved me to both attention and action. It is a documentary bringing light to the way media portrays women through every source, movies, tv, journalism, politics, etc. My core was shaken. 

If you want more info on the film I highly encourage you to visit their site, http://www.missrepresentation.org/ and that’s where you can find links to their twitter, facebook and youtube.

Also, I would love to answer any questions about the film since I JUST saw it and plan on seeing it again as soon as I can get my hands on it! 

I realized as I went home that there were so many things I wanted to do for this cause and I COULD do them! But the first step was cleaning all the CRAP out of my own life. I need to reexamine everything I do in my life, how it effects myself, my peers and younger girls who look up to me. The movies and tv I choose to watch, the books and magazines I choose to read, the activities I spend my time on and the language I speak with all convey messages (whether I intend them to or not) about how I think of myself, how I want others to treat me and what I truly believe about myself and others. 

In the end, I realized I have become to lax, I’m letting my brain go to mush and my lifestyle is following QUICKLY after it. I need to pick myself, dust off my now lazy brain cells and learn to think critically again. I need to think critically about all my actions, choices and words and decide which ones to cut out and which ones to keep and above all I need to decide WHY I do the things I do, think the things I think and say the things I say.

More to Come.

"The attempt by Republican men to wrestle American women back into chastity belts has not only breathed life into President Obama, it has roused and riled Hillary. And that could turn out to be the most dangerous thing the wildly self-destructive G.O.P. leaders have done."

Don’t Tread on Us - NYTimes.com

This is the most exciting and AWESOME thing I’ve seen on Tumblr in a looong time!!


(via RunninginHeelz)

That’s right GOP, keep demeaning the women and we will release the Clinton!

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Omg we will release the Clinton.

(via girlargueswithtree)

We will release the Clinton.

(via tenderstatue)




(via elysethekraken)


(via mswyrr)


(via ouyangdan)

can The Clinton be an actual thing please

(via jhameia)

A wild The Clinton appeared!

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She uses, MISANDRY JIHAD! It’s supereffective!

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Internet, this is why I love you.

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