Most girls are relentlessly told that we will be treated how we demand to be treated. If we want respect, we must respect ourselves.
This does three things. Firstly, it gets men off the hook for being held accountable for how they treat women. And secondly, it makes women feel that the mistreatment and sometimes outright violence they face due to their gender is primarily their fault. And thirdly, it positions women to be unable to speak out against sexism because we are made to believe any sexism we experience would not have happened if we had done something differently.
I cannot demand a man to respect me. No more than I can demand that anybody do anything. I can ask men to be nice to me. But chances are if I even have to ask he does not care to be nice. I can express displeasure when I’m not being respected. But that doesn’t solve the issue that I was disrespected in the first place.
I can choose to not deal with a man once he proves to be disrespectful and/or sexist. But even that does not solve the initial problem of the fact that I had to experience being disrespected in the first place.
As a young girl, I wish that instead of being told that I needed to demand respect from men that I had been told that when I am not respected by men that it’s his fault and not mine. But that would require that we quit having numerous arbitrary standards for what it means to be a “respectable” woman. It would mean that I am not judged as deserving violence based on how I speak, what I wear, what I do, and who I am."
I let him fuck me until I bled but it still wasn’t good enough. So I broke down sobbing and now he’s avoiding the crazy girl. I am not good for anything anymore.
I am worthless and deserve to die
I want to die.
Impossibly sad. Wanting unexpected, unasked for kindness. Researching how to find my femoral artery instead. I marked with a shallow cut.
How am I so sad?
Stress, sun, sadness.
1) Frazzled for nothing. Stress for the sake of it.
2) Lunch breaks in the sun, sucking in the warmth and half-heartedly hoping that a little vitamin D can cure depression
3) A sneaky sadness, easing in as the light fades. Without reason, the kind of sadness that pulls me out of bed at 2 in the morning to cry in a crooked corner by the fridge.
Today I am full and manic and bloated on nervous energy and leftover worries.
My heart is
a lame horse, looking for
any excuse to slow down,
it wants to wait
It would rather limp
it would lose the race
just for the chance
My heart is
a lazy beast, too wilted
to learn its lesson; but still
to stumble down
the bent grass road.
My heart is
an incurable optimist.
It thinks that
you’ll catch up
to my love