heroine

TW: discrimination, sexism, bullying You’re name is Erika...

Sat, 25 May 2013 13:17:00 -0400

TW: discrimination, sexism, bullying

You’re name is Erika Farfaras

You’re five years old

You go to class on the first day of school

Your last name is called

It’s pronounced incorrectly

People ask you where my family’s from

The colour of your cheeks

Runs red like the background you come from

Where your grandparents felt embarrassed

That they couldn’t speak English well

And that they came from war

Instability and financial crises

Where women would submit to patriarchy

And Orthodoxy was the “thing”

And that they had a son with a woman whom

Wasn’t even of the same culture

Someone they didn’t want because

The child coming from that union would be confused

Ousted

Hated

And treated like a non-white girl

And that they came to Canada only to have

Their grandchild be caught in the intolerance

That school kids laughed

Their snickers like bloodshed

Pain that ripped through your body

You would lie in your bed at night

Wishing you never existed

As you retreated from whom you are

And that nothing else mattered

Because you weren’t the same

And then your dad got offered a job to move the three of you to

Ohio, USA

But your mom told him

He and yourself wouldn’t be welcome

Because you weren’t “white”

White as the stripes of the flag

White as the Founding Fathers

White as the US Congress

“White”

When they adopted your heritage’s architecture

Art forms and government styles

Where democracy was applauded

And turned into a weapon against you

So you stayed here

And people defined you by your name

When you are a mix of beauty

Your parents are something

Rare

They are unique and courageous

They had you

But society comes body-flopping onto you

The laughter gets louder

Until you run crying

And squeeze your whole weight onto the toilet

Waiting out your lunch hour in the gloomy stall

Because you had no one to play with at recess

You are blasphemous

You aren’t “white”

Despite what your mom is

So you lived out your life with friends

When you were seven

After two years of not knowing who to trust

People actually understood you

That there were the pool parties

A rain drop of tanned skin in a sea of pale

Boys at school would ask you if you had

Some hair across your upper lip

Nights in your preteens spent

Shaving, bleaching, waxing your heritage

From your body

Looking at your face rather than

Enjoying the luxuries around you

Video games didn’t mean anything anymore

And “exotic” was just a word to elevate

The status of supermodels

Not you, the average

You sat in their schools

Read their books on their history

Tried to befriend students whom didn’t even like

You

So that when summer came around

When you were a kid

You were your English and Swedish grandpa’s “brown cherry”

Because you were unique and beautiful

To him, something born out of

Segregation where the odds were beaten

A symbol of unity

But you would stay inside so you could try to escape

Try to escape being different

Not wear your skin as your weakness

A shield long broken and cracked down the centre

To become whiter

To become

Like them

Because you were born here

In a land that says there is opportunity

Equality that equals freedom

When it’s a lie

You speak English, not your dad’s native language

So when they told you that you weren’t good enough

That you aren’t thin enough or athletic enough

Or pretty enough

Enough

Those blue-eyes that shot through you

And beauty pageant tears of shame

As they see your dark hair and dark eyes

So cold and lonely at times

Because you’ll never forget

That you didn’t choose this

Photo

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:37:45 -0400

d0rkninja: Him at Anime North 2013 As soon as I saw him, I knew...

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:34:09 -0400

d0rkninja:

Him at Anime North 2013
As soon as I saw him, I knew I had to take a picture lol

sexxxisbeautiful: so many different boobs and they’re all...

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:32:37 -0400

sexxxisbeautiful:

so many different boobs and they’re all awesome.

"For the record, I honestly don’t give a fuck how much cock you suck. Suck a thousand cocks. Suck a..."

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:32:14 -0400

“

For the record, I honestly don’t give a fuck how much cock you suck. Suck a thousand cocks. Suck a million cocks. There’s no such thing as a slut. That’s just a lie they told you born out of male anxiety. Anxiety about adultery and misattributed paternity.

Sex isn’t sinful either, though you can trace a lot of sexual repression and misogyny back to the Abrahamic religions. Before Emperor Constantine tried to replace the pagan religions with Christianity, they used to have sex in church. Sacred prostitution. Happened a lot in Mesopotamia, for example. And the Mesopotamians weren’t stupid either. They invented the fucking wheel.

It’s your body to do with as you please. If anyone tries to dictate a dick limit to you, they’re trying to take ownership of your body. And that’s slavery. If they call you a slut, that’s slavery. And I refuse it. Suck an infinite number of cocks for all I care. Just enjoy it.

”

- Benedict Smith

For the anon who was worried wanting sex made her a whore.

(via benedictsmith)

alimarko: One thing I’ve trained myself to notice more often in the past year is the loudness of a...

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:29:07 -0400

alimarko:

One thing I’ve trained myself to notice more often in the past year is the loudness of a man’s voice when you (a woman) are debating or arguing with him. In most cases, when you disagree with him or he feels challenged, his voice gets louder and louder as he tries to reassert his opinions, sometimes interrupting or trying to talk over you.

And a lot of people, when I mention this, play the devil’s advocate and insist that all people do this naturally when trying to get their point across or prove themselves right. They tell me I’m too sensitive, that I’m just trying to demonize men for my “feminist agenda.”

But if you’re a woman (especially one without a deeper voice), you probably don’t subconsciously do this while arguing, especially with men. I know I don’t. Because when women get loud, especially in passioned, emotional ways, we are not more likely to be listened to. We are called hysterical or shrill, told to calm down, regarded as “bitches,” and our words are disregarded. I know that when I argue with men, I go out of my way to keep my voice even and calm even when my blood is boiling. Even when their voices escalate, even when I’ve been talked over for the fifth time. Because otherwise, I will be discredited for using the same tactics that are being used against me.

That’s without mentioning the fear so many women have of shouting, loud men. An overwhelming amount of violence women face is from men, and when they become loud or belligerent, we don’t know what to expect, and many of us fear the worst. Because to be weary is to be concerned with our survival.

A shouting man may not realize that he is forcing any woman with which he argues into a battle to subdue her own emotions while flaunting the systematic power he holds over her, but he is. And if you don’t think that’s a mechanism of the patriarchy and its silencing of women, you need to open your eyes.

Photo

Sat, 25 May 2013 11:27:38 -0400

Photo

Sat, 25 May 2013 08:05:23 -0400

jammoth: evilnol6: .Mads Mikkelsen in promo of “Hannibal” why...

Sat, 25 May 2013 06:55:09 -0400

jammoth:

evilnol6:

.Mads Mikkelsen in promo of “Hannibal”

why are you so perfect, Mr. Mikkelsen?

good god!

imagemdma: Game of Thrones

Fri, 24 May 2013 07:18:52 -0400

imagemdma:

Game of Thrones

pembroke: theworldhereinmymind: Game of Thrones 90s era by...

Thu, 23 May 2013 23:53:25 -0400

pembroke:

theworldhereinmymind:

Game of Thrones 90s era by Mike Wrobel

skymin: sui

Thu, 23 May 2013 23:47:57 -0400

skymin:

sui

mirroir: Frank Cheyne Pape (1878 - 1972)Illustrations for Book...

Thu, 23 May 2013 22:12:50 -0400

mirroir:

Frank Cheyne Pape (1878 - 1972)
Illustrations for Book of Russian Tales 1916

My Eastern European genes definitely dominate. Wow.

Thu, 23 May 2013 17:52:54 -0400

My Eastern European genes definitely dominate. Wow.

"Men who want to be feminists do not need to be given a space in feminism. They need to take the..."

Thu, 23 May 2013 17:27:48 -0400

“Men who want to be feminists do not need to be given a space in feminism. They need to take the space they have in society & make it feminist.”

- Kelley Temple, National Union of Students UK Women’s Officer (via beautilation)

Photo

Thu, 23 May 2013 17:22:34 -0400

Something I’ve felt I needed to address and I’ve...

Thu, 23 May 2013 15:26:00 -0400

Something I’ve felt I needed to address and I’ve wanted to do one of these slam poems for several years. This is my first time trying, so please go easy on me!

Note: I do not think that women need to look a certain way, it’s just the way women get looked at inappropriately and are blamed for it that has made me angry. This is for anyone. There is mention of a past relationship, if you were confused as to why I would still be with someone like that.

TW: rape culture, self-esteem, body confidence, misogyny, sexism

My boyfriend used to tell me he was glad

He was glad I had small breasts

That they were the right size

As if anything bigger deemed me a –

Well maybe it’s not important now

But it hurt, a lot

I didn’t know why

I didn’t know

What this feeling in my gut was

But being bigger made me feel easier

Was it so hard to be accepted

To be respected

Regarded

As someone smart

Brave

Powerful just the way I was?

As if my womanhood was going to lower

Lower the chances for me to find someone to love me

For me

Guys would like my friends’ profile pictures

With cleavage three inches out of their low-cut tops

I couldn’t compete for that attention

But then I noticed

Those stares weren’t respect

Staring wasn’t attention deserved

Staring wasn’t a long-term relationship

It was fleeting

So I remembered

Being small made me feel better

But being bigger made me feel easier

I told my boyfriend I went up to a B-cup

He said,

“That’s too bad.”

As if my changing was a hindrance

My biology was my fault

His preference was my confidence

I thought his love for my breasts made me

Accepted

But my breasts were all I was

I wasn’t a person

I was my chest

And my chest dictated who would respect me

And being bigger made me feel easier

I would sit on the bus

My boyfriend would say

“Pull up your shirt,”

Because my bra was in his view

He thought other men would leer at it

Harass me for it

Why was it my fault

When society sexualises my body parts

Tells me to get excited about bra shopping

To please someone other than myself

Get out that lingerie

And decides to hand me a magazine saying, “Ten ways to please your man”?

I get blamed for men

Who didn’t learn to control themselves

Were never taught to understand that women have breasts

And that having breasts is in our nature

We are human beings too

We aren’t born understanding

That we will be honked at

Whistled at

Harassed

Grabbed

Because we grow up with it

The only way we’ll have fun is if we’re bigger-breasted

But being bigger only means “fun”

It’s not commitment

So being smaller made me feel better

But being bigger made me feel easier

Yet men still have the nerve

To rate us on what is not in our control

To post pictures of us

Saying, “Like or comment on which of the two is hotter”

Personality was never a “thing”

We have to be classy

By class, not make them angry

Because anger only breeds contempt

Women, females, we are associated with breasts

Harassed for whom we can’t help being

Because people like Michael Bay tell us

We’re not worth anything

Unless we have big breasts, a face like Adriana Lima, and don’t argue

We’re not worth anything if we don’t have breasts

When really

They want us covered up

Be pretty enough to bear living with

Smart enough to talk to

When they’re the ones telling us our opinions don’t matter

That we’re ugly when we turn them down

And that if we accept their harassment, we’re good people

When, by morning, we’re shit on the side of the road

So when my boyfriend told me,

“That’s too bad.”

I didn’t know it was his gender making me feel that

I would be stung either way

Being smaller made me feel better

But I wasn’t the desired woman for most

So I wanted to be bigger

But being bigger made me feel easier

Photo

Thu, 23 May 2013 11:30:45 -0400

How I feel a lot of the time now.

Thu, 23 May 2013 11:21:57 -0400

How I feel a lot of the time now.

mirandaputsherbestbuttforward: Erika and I out being fabulous...

Thu, 23 May 2013 11:20:56 -0400

mirandaputsherbestbuttforward:

Erika and I out being fabulous while Christmas shopping. <3

Oh my gahd, iz me.

Dem bags under my eyes.