Dude messaged me with some generic “I noticed you noticing me” message which I didn’t respond to because it was boring. Then he wrote me again and said, “But seriously though, your profile has me intrigued and its rare to find feminists who aren’t just misandrists with a soapbox.”
So I was all, well, 1) I don’t misandry is actually as big of a problem as people think it is because it doesn’t have any institutional power to effect change in society, like, say, misogyny does, and that 2) I think misandry is women expressing their discomfort with the mass amounts of violence that they have experienced and/or their connections have experienced at the hands of men, and that they’re not actively harming men as much as they are trying to stay away from them, and 3) that as I understand it, misandrists are more about upsetting the patriarchy and dismantling it than they are with reversing the patriarchy so that men are the oppressed group.
I also threw in a statistic of intimate partner violence and gave an example of how people can flock to defend abusers, citing the most recent example of Christy Mack/Warmachine and the latter’s supporters.
Like, dude, please enlighten me about the misandrists with soapboxes that have so much power in society that aren’t from your personal circle/the Internet where once a woman said something men about men in front of you.
i just want to hide away and be alone for a long, long while
today is depressing me
Today I was talking to an old friend, someone I haven’t talked to in several months. We were talking about dating websites, because he just used Tinder to meet someone he’s been seeing and having fun with. I talked about how I was on OKC before, but like 50% of the messages were harassment and a bummer.
Then he decided to tell me he also sends harassing messages to women for this disappointing conversation to ensue.
Oh well, I guess I won’t be missing out on talking to him anymore.
him: there were a few I tried to talk to on a serious level and it just wasn’t happening
him: and then there were the thousands that I messaged like “sit on my face and i’ll eat my way to your heart”
him: because tinder
me: oh god no
me: don’t do that!
him: its so funny
me: don’t harass girls for funsies, man
me: getting those messages is seriously depressing and kind of upsetting
him: i think its how seriously you take the experience. if you’re going to tinder looking to meet a nice young man, which you may well do, and run in to an asshole, which you most definitely will do, then you’ll probably get depressed. but if you go in to tinder and and take if [sic] for what it is, i think you’ll have a more appropriate, “whatever” response
him: trolls are kind of an accepted part of the experience at this point, and its a pretty up front guise. The true horror stories are the people who lead others on just to embarrass them down the road
me: i could be interested in having casual sex and be interested in meeting those people through apps designed for that and still not want messages like that
me: because the trolling is gendered
me: like, mass amounts of women aren’t trolling men with flagrant sexual advances
him: i’m well aware of that, but that’s like, the point, isn’t it
him: like, as a troll you take the easy route
him: like as a dude you would troll a woman by sending her a message like
him: hey baby sit on my face
me: ok, so what’s the point of it? is the point to make women feel uncomfortable?
him: as a woman you’d troll a dude by emasculating him
him: it’s only a gender specific troll because the app itself is inherently gender specific itself, thats a major function of the app
him: i mean, entertainment value doesn’t need to have a point
me: i mean, but where’s the entertainment in it? doesn’t the entertainment derive from making women uncomfortable?
him: and granted you’re entertaining yourself at someone elses expense. But someone is always going to get upset about something that someone else is laughing at.
him: similar to cat calling?
him: its a gender divide because its a dating app dude
him: i am a dick on reddit too
him: i dont know who im talking to on reddit
him: i still make people uncomfortable for fun
him: women and men alike, im sure. there is no way to tell the gender of a user
him: i am a man who filtered as hetero, both to meet interesting people and troll people who’s [sic] profiles looked lame.
him: so yeah, i guess the point is to make a woman feel uncomfortable
him: because if im trolling a man
him: im also trying to make him feel uncomfortable
him: the definition of trolling
me: i’m not really sure why you’re defending making women feel uncomfortable for your own entertainment and pleasure when you should be pretty aware of how many women face street harassment, deal with threats of rape, deal with actual rape, and gendered violence
me: like, if trolling is actually that important to you
me: just do other gender-neutral trolling?
me: like defending it because it’s a dating app
me: i don’t think you can really imagine yourself as a woman
me: on a site
him: i think thats a fucked response
me: getting messages like that
me: ALL the time.
him: make people uncomforable about things, just as long its not gender specific
me: well personally i’m not for fucking with people at all
me: but if it’s so important to you, yeah
me: i’d not fuck with them in the way that they’re getting from all directions, all the time that can make them feel unsafe or violated
me: yeah, there’s my line, if i have to pick one
him: its not important to me. but you’re right
personal space is a myth when you have animals
I did it!
i’ve always liked pixie haircuts but i’ve never thought they would look good on me or that i might hate it just because it’s so different and because i’m terrible at styling hair
but i think i’m gonna go get one today because fuck it, right?
like maybe even if i hate it it would be a good exercise in learning to be comfortable with myself always
plus i don’t work anywhere but from home anymore soooo i don’t have to worry about like figuring out how to pull it back/put it up/hide it in a hat or whatever
i find it so incredibly attractive when someone is really good at something, like you can play the violin? damn son. you’re a really talented dj? good for you! i don’t care if you talk to me about quantum physics for an hour straight if i can see the passion in you at some point in that hour i’ll think “whoa, this is really hot.”
this is so not true for me. one time this guy on okc messaged me and he somehow managed to mention trains in every single section of his profile. he loved trains so much. he said he went and watched them every friday night. they were one of the 6 things he couldn’t live without. it was one of the things he was usually thinking about. he dreamed of growing up to work on the railroad. like hey man im happy for you and your passion in a removed, respectable sort of way but no thank u
i feel really weird when people post things like “you’ll be his first friend, his first kiss, his first love… you’re his momma”
or those “take your daughter on her first date” things
like can we stop conflating parental love with dating love? it’s fucking weird
honestly so many/most of my credits from pratt, lane community college, and high school IB don’t count toward graduation for me
so much fucking money and time that just gets listed as “extra” classes and doesn’t help me graduate
UO frustrates me to no end
last night at dinner with my dad and grandparents and my grandma’s friend the subject of statutory rape came up because in our school district in the past 6 months, one middle school teacher was arrested for child pornography and one athletic trainer was jailed for having a relationship with a 17 year old student athlete
my dad said that the young girl said it was consensual, and that that meant that the guy shouldn’t go to jail, also because in the court room the guy said he loved the girl unconditionally
it was awful because the next thing my dad said was “i think she was a mature girl, and you were mature at that age, are you telling me you weren’t mature enough to make those sorts of decisions?”
and i wanted to scream “YES!” because all i thought of was chris crisman on top of me when i was 18 years old because he had the decency to wait until i was legal but not the decency to wait when i said “no”
i thought about how much i think of that awful man today. how just two weeks ago i thought i saw him walking on the street and my heart jumped up into my throat, and how i got doubly panicked because the person that i thought was him was walking with a woman holding hands, and i worried about her
i thought of chris crisman trying to convince me it hadn’t happened
that i imagined it
i thought of how i was young and naive and how he, at 26 years old, took advantage of that and tried to manipulate me
i thought of how chris crisman, who was my coworker, insisted that i couldn’t tell anyone: not my dad, not my uncle (our boss), not any of my friends
because “he could lose his job”
i knew that didn’t make sense. he couldn’t lose his job. i was 18. my best friend was dating his 28-year-old best friend. nobody cared.
i felt guilt and shame for keeping this thing a secret, because why was i?
mostly because i think i feel stupid for my part in that relationship, even still, but it was not my fault. he had been prepping me for a long time before i was 18, flirting with me and talking to me.
and when he hung out with me he got me drunk and high for the first time, teasing me that i never had been before
and i can’t remember how long it went on, i just know it started on NYE of my senior year of high school
and i carried around this secret relationship in the halls of my high school, as i sat in classrooms and finished up homework for teachers and took pictures for the yearbook
i was not an adult. i was a kid that had just passed an age threshold.
instead i fumbled around and said to my dad, “i would hope that if i was that age and you were my parent that you would do what you could to protect me”
but my dad let his argument stand: the girl was old enough, almost 18. she said it was consensual.
i thought it was, too.
i tried to spend the night to make it something it wasn’t. i had to come up with an elaborate lie when i came back home with my best friend’s car at 6 am when he kicked me out. in the morning i spent time on several different dictionary websites, trying to pin down the exact definition of rape and if that was what happened to me
did it count because he didn’t come? did it count that he stopped after i panicked and resisted?
did it count because he kept trying to coerce me and i never waved and i said no and i said no and i said no and i said no over and over and over again,
no i didn’t want to
no i wasn’t ready
no i didn’t want to have sex with him
and he put his penis inside me and it hurt so bad that i freaked out and he stopped and immediately acted like i was crazy, that it hadn’t happened, that i was imagining it, that it was his hand, what was i talking about?
it took years for me to be able to call it rape. i’m still uncomfortable with it. i’m still uncomfortable with everything about it, knowing my case was so mild compared to so many other girl’s and women’s
but i still think of him. and i still feel that guilt and shame even when i know i shouldn’t.
i tried to say to my dad that the athletic trainer violated that trust, that he could have waited, that he had a responsibility as the adult to abide by that law (and additional reading shows that if you’re in that position and want a relationship with a former student/athlete they have to be 21, not just 18)
but it was fruitless
and i wondered if my dad would think what happened to me wasn’t that bad. since i was 18. since he stopped.
literally just discovered after like 3 or 4 years of having a tumblr how to scroll to see all of the tags people use on their posts
i was riding my bike to my friend’s house today to loan him harry potter books and it was so hot out and my vision got blurry and i couldn’t see anything and there was a ringing in my ears and so i threw my bike in the gross and plopped down and tried to get my breathing and vision back to normal
and i was lying there with my eyes closed and i heard “are you okay???”
and it was two homeless men who came over to check on me and they offered to buy me food and water and try and call someone and they gave me advice and were so nice and helpful and one of them sat with me and talked while i was recovering and the other went back to his corner but insisted i come over and ask him for help if i needed it and it’s just like
all the time people are complaining about homeless people and telling these stories that half the time are “well, my friend’s mom tried to give a homeless man X or Y and he said he doesn’t eat onions so he threw it back at her” that i don’t even believe, for one,
but for two, these are people that are in really hard circumstances. full stop. i don’t care if they have an addiction or if they kept losing jobs because of this or that reason that people use an excuse of being horrible to homeless people. they are without a home, and often without food and comfort or safety. i can’t believe the lack of sympathy people have most of the time
these two guys offered to spend what money they had to help me recover from whatever was happening with my body. they were so kind and concerned about me.
it was just a really nice experience connecting with strangers. the one who plopped down next to me with his dog told me about hitchhiking from missouri to here and how he was trying to get down to san diego and he tried to refuse the few bucks i gave him that i had on me.
i don’t know, i was just really touched by the whole thing