growing up March 14, 2014
Deprecated: preg_replace(): The /e modifier is deprecated, use preg_replace_callback instead in /home/priya/LITTLEMISSSAVINGTHEWORLD.COM/wp-includes/formatting.php on line 82
I know it was the right choice for me to make- beyond a shadow of a doubt it was the most difficult choice I’ve ever made but it was right for me, right for us. He’s the most beautiful person I have met, gorgeous beyond words but the timing was off, the compassion and the love were real but there were some differences that couldn’t be healed by time. Ultimately I needed my space to make my own choices and I truly hope we both find what we’re looking for- for me I just want to be happy with myself.
I made a 68% on a test I should have aced but that’s assuming I studied enough, instead I used my clogged, numb, unfeeling brain to watch Girls for three hours last night while simultaneously studying. The result was a grade I probably deserved but would like to think I didn’t. The truth is I have yet to do my grand collapse in pain and sadness. The big breakup breakdown I suppose, I’ve just kind of been avoiding it altogether… but i lost a best friend. I know I’ll call back and I’ll hope we can still talk. I’ll hope we can be okay but never the way we were- it shouldn’t be , it hurts. it’s supposed to be different and I knew that but the feelings still feel like someone is clawing through my soul with their newly sharpened nails.
I went from someone wanting to know EVEryTHING about my day to no one really wondering… the freedom is nice and lovely and the loneliness is what I wanted but it’s so lonely. It was the aloneness I was looking for but rather I’m still sad obviously it’s only been a week. It’s just this process of grieving that needs to take place and I will let it… I just can’t fail next week’s exams as well and everyone else is in my head.
Should probably just listen to myself instead….
I lost a friend on purpose… Perhaps the better way to put it is I lost two friends- both were the lovers and partners I always wanted but ultimately my untimely journey ended with me having neither.
I met the first when I was 14- he was my everything… my best friend, my first and the kindest, most compassionate individual I will ever have the pleasure of knowing. We spent every waking moment hoping for a forever story- a fairytale we were sure we could manage, we were sure we could succeed. Love is pretty miraculous that way… it consumes you and makes you feel like you could handle whatever the universe could bring you… I still love him. After all the surprises and 8 years of happiness how could I not? But the fact of the matter was that in being so incredibly and voluntarily and lovingly consumed- I was missing someone else entirely…
This girl I was becoming was pretty amazing but she was mad and sad and hurt… I was leaving her behind in the struggle for love and a journey on a path I was determined to be on. It was a soft, cozy, loving path. But as I kept walking I think I lost my shoes and the calluses on my feet were getting harder and yet breaking simultaneously. There was blood on the path and it was no one’s fault but my own. I covered the path with new sand and lavender scents and jumped into the love I wanted SO badly. He never knew and I wanted to keep it that way.
This dream we kept along for so long was falling away and so was I. I clung with every ounce of my breath but this girl in the mirror- she kept screaming and yelling and clawing at my insides like I had abandoned her completely. The love I felt for him and he for me couldn’t stop her from scratching, from burning me and from killing my insides as a person.
I lost 2 best friends and now I’m trying to get the last one back in hopes to find the first one again. I don’t know how and I don’t know when and I don’t know if things will ever be the same… I’m scared and I’m lost and I know he is too… But I’m sending good vibes and happiness your way sweetheart…Stay strong…
There’s nothing more frustrating than the constant guarding of your ass- in a literal sense. As a woman there have been plenty of instances in my life when my ass has been grabbed, by strangers on the street, by acquaintances and even by friends who know better; similarly there have been countless arguments and internal conflicts about this seemingly unimportant topic. But the reality is that the grabbing of one’s body without their permission is more than just a simple touch- it’s about entitlement, marking of territory, predation, sexualization and staking claim.
But the reality is that there are still multiple cheeks to this topic. The first may be a little depressing but it’s one of the most realistic ones- when you’re body is getting grabbed and pawed at from all sides- from strangers, friends who like the way she looks-no matter what you say- you get sick of defending her. You detach and let it go. There’s a mental disconnect from the body I find so delicate because it gives me a sense of control I don’t feel like I have in the real world. I’ve been grabbed, kissed and pursued but I didn’t want it, or ask for it, She’s beautiful, you see it and all you think of is sex but she’s more than sex… She’s passion lay deep in her curves, she’s intelligence in her thighs and adventure in her eyes- she’s determined in her shoulders, persistent in her neck and delicate in her nostrils; it’s not what you longed to feel- all you wanted was a night and while sex is fine- don’t forget about her depths, never let them win.
The second side of this story is that part of me enjoys the adornment of my body-there’s the taboo but I’m like a cat and much to my intellectual displeasure part of me likes it. I like it when girls do it more though because it feels less predatory- there’s a difference between objectification and worship; between admiration and entitlement and I like to think it’s the worship that brings pleasure more so than the third party objectification.
Now the third and final side of this story is probably the most pressing and prevalent within my psyche. The act of touching someone without their permission is like laying claim to their skin-it has to be right? It’s an act of entitlement and privilege to which your significant other often feels they deserve a stake in and yet these territorial battles for my “goods” leave ME realizing my physical worth to society is to sit there and look fabulous while the boys fight over me. But the reality is that in a realm of child like behavior I’m not one who has the luxury of wasting time and waiting for someone to make up their mind when it’s not theirs to be made in the first place. And while fabulousity is my right and I can do quite for myself- everyone thinks it’s for them but it’s not. This sacred land your attempting to fight over is already taken so put your tiny weapons away and retreat from my curves…promptly please…
They didn’t call me back, they didn’t pick me up- they stood me up. And the excuse, the only sentiment I receive is, “ they’re guys you know how they are,”. Well in all honesty, yes I do realize that they have the genitals pertaining to that of the male specimen- however I was shocked to discover that the acceptance of this tiny member also involved pure stupidity. Apparently, having a penis entitles you to act however you’d like without regard to anyone else’s feelings and when women are around you- oh my they simply can’t stand the power of the phallus- they faint at it’s mere mention. The ladies are unable to even form coherent sentences in front of you without gazing, eagerly at your tiny pant temptress.
If you do something illegal there’s no need to explain to the cop about your lack of judgment or impaired thought, all you need to do is unzip your pants and share the secret that is the penis.
I’m sorry is this making any one else queasy?
Perhaps men and women are inherently different in how we think but regardless of this fact the use of such phrases as, “ he’s a guy,” adulterates everything feminism and gender equality have worked to eliminate. By making it so that men are incapable of making their own knowledgeable decisions we continue to perpetuate the victim blaming in our society- making it so that only half of the population really has to care. Women obviously, in making up for the lack of knowledge and care men hold onto – have to worry about everything. We have to dress so that Goodness forbid we shall trigger that animalistic behavior and get raped. Dear me, did he really say that? It must be my fault I shouldn’t have led him on.
I’m sorry but NO!
I refuse absolutely, undeniably refuse to take responsibility for the other half of our species. I have enough to deal with by myself and I do NOT need to nor do I have the time to say, “ oh well, let me put on some longer pants, or try not taking everything they say so personally- they’re guys they didn’t mean it.” No, a “guy” isn’t an excuse to do whatever you feel in your bones- your gender is a social construct that’s made to be questioned.
Gender is a concept that we’ve created and as such it means what we’ve decided it means. In contrast, it also means that we as the public determine what gender isn’t.
I for one, have decided that gender is NOT an excuse and I, as an empowered woman, refuse to listen to it as an excuse anymore.
My sanity was saved today by a woman from the YWCA hotline who said, “ It’s not about the intent it’s about the impact.” After going to a party and losing control of a situation, I felt silly for thinking such a little action was such a large deal; my head told me that I shouldn’t care, that if my friend hadn’t even taken notice of it then why should I? I knew in my head that perhaps, the issue wasn’t as large as I had made it out to be but in my heart I couldn’t stop feeling how I felt. I felt empty and unsure and hysterical.
I tried everything, cleaning for hours, calling close friends but nothing was helping the ache that I couldn’t stop feeling. All I kept thinking were the statistics “70 percent of all sexual assault and rape is from someone you know.” I woke up in my friend’s apartment with that exact quote running through my head. I felt so alone and upset no matter how many people I talked to I couldn’t cope.
I felt like I needed closure, attention, just some sort of recognition that what had happened was wrong; it took a two days of me going bombastic for that to happen and for many it never occurs. The discussion with my friend left me uneasy, I felt like maybe I took more responsibility for some of the actions than I needed to and found myself hurt that the overall situation, since “nothing happened” really left him feeling nothing for the situation other than sad about how I put it.
I don’t know how to feel to be honest but I do know that after attempting to find proper counseling on campus- they were high and hidden. I was unsure which number to call and after numerous fits of crying I gave up completely and called the YWCA San Jose where my boyfriend used to volunteer.
I realize this isn’t my best piece of writing, not close but I write to let you know you’re not alone…
Here’s the YWCA San Jose hotline as a resource…
(408) 287-3000 or (650) 493-7273
For LSU’s campus here’s a list of contacts
It says Rape Crisis Hotline for the YWCA but from what the woman said they also talk to anyone who has dealt with assault as well.
As life continues on with tests and quizzes and the increasing stress of reality, I’ve realized that it’s time to stop making myself the center of everything and time to further benefit society. I want to make people smile through random acts of kindness. So, before me I have a deck of SMILE cards from http://www.helpothers.org/cards.php, which I plan on using every day/once of a week until I finish the entire deck. I also plan on chronicling my experiences once a week.
Hope your day is going great!
I haven’t meditated in a month.
I haven’t been eating just raw fruits and vegetables.
I haven’t been learning Hindi, or even reading for fun.
Instead I’ve been snapping and breaking and I’m sorry to everyone I may have snapped at along the way, including myself. I’ve found in this small section of my mind, the only things I tell myself are negative- just yelling at myself for incidents I didn’t handle well, for homework I never finished and for deeds I never got done.
Life WILL GO ON, we just want to make sure we have our sanity to take along as a carry on.
According to the American Heritage Dictionary, Meat is described as the essence or principle part of something, however over time its meaning has been shifted a great deal. What used to be considered as a principle part of any of our food, has come to be known as only the animal protein we consume. Similarly the word man has undergone great lexicographical narrowing to exclude women as part of “mankind” (Adams, 46). And while these subtle shifts in language may appear to be unimportant on paper what they symbolize in the reality of this nation and of this planet is a shift in thinking , a shift in the oppression of both women and animals so that they are one in the same. . This phenomenon of unrighteous actions, of sexist thinking and violence against women has all been the result of the dual oppression of women and animals. For it is through the increasing push for what has been deemed “masculine” food (animal protein) that women have lost their identity, that both animals and women have been denounced as important and have instead become the systemized “others,” it is through this push that patriarchal society has found it easier impose violence upon these parties and made it so that women and animals are consumed both literally and visually by the “masculine” majority.
Women and Animals as the Systemized “Other”
Women as the systemized “other”