I’m old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you.
"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight…"
if you’re a white person dating a poc and you don’t say anything when your family says something racist about them you don’t deserve them
Hayley Atwell guest stars as Agent Peggy Carter in Agents of SHIELD 2x01 "Shadows" (x)
hell is gonna be one big gay party
Anyone who is actually blaming Janay Rice for staying with her abuser is engaging in some degree of victim blaming and does not have a good working understanding of abuser dynamics, battered woman syndrome, or Stockholm Syndrome —and right now, should she decide to leave, is an incredibly dangerous time for Mrs. Rice, even if she doesn’t realize it: the most dangerous time in the life of a battered woman is when she attempts to leave her abuser. Threatened by the loss of control, the batterer is likely to become even more violent and may even try to kill her. And please do not make the mistake of thinking that the danger is somehow minimized just because the abuser is famous and wealthy
And while it might not “make sense” to a lot of people, abusers are often world class manipulators and there are actually several very understandable reasons an abused woman might choose to remain with her abuser:
LOVE/HOPE: He is not always brutal…She hopes he will change, and the beatings will stop…An abused partner still loves the abuser even though he hits her
FEAR : She believes his threats to beat or kill her, the children, her family if she leaves him…He’s done it before, she fears he will do it again
SOCIETAL PRESSURE: Society has conditioned women to believe their primary duty is to keep the family together no matter what…She would be admitting failure…She may have been successful in other areas of her life and believes that if she works hard enough she can also have a successful relationship or marriage
LACK OF SUPPORT: Family members are threatened physically… After repeated attempts to help, family may distance themselves from the victim…Friends don’t want to get involved…Isolation from family makes it difficult
RELIGION: Divorce is not acceptable…Vow was to love, honor, and obey
EMBARASSMENT, SHAME, GUILT: She doesn’t want her family to find out…If her family likes him, they may not believe her or they might blame her…If she is the wife of a prominent citizen she may worry about how the publicity will effect his reputation, career, and whether people will believe her
FEELS RESPONSIBLE: She doesn’t know anyone else being beaten, so she must be doing something wrong…She believes what her abusive partner says that somehow it’s all her “fault”, therefore he had to beat her
SURVIVAL IS ALL SHE THINKS ABOUT: All her energy and thoughts are focused on surviving…Formulating a plan to leave is overwhelming…Trauma is similar to that of a prisoner of war who is reduced to the level of mere existence and survival
HAS NO PLACE TO GO: She may not know about shelters or lack transportation…She has worn out her welcome at mom’s, sister’s, etc.
ECONOMIC DEPENDENCE: Many batterers have strict control over the purse strings…Husband convinces her that she will not receive any child support if she “abandons” the family…Over 50% of victims have no marketable skills…Feels she can endure beatings so that children have more financial advantages
Personally, I think we should support an abused woman who hasn’t left her abuser in exactly the same way we support a drug user who hasn’t stopped using, or a depressed person who won’t just hurry up and “feel better” —we don’t agree with, understand or condone the choices of people engaging in various forms of destructive self-harm, but we offer them our support, be there for them, and never blame them
Knowing these reasons is not “agreeing” with someone staying in an abusive relationship, but it does allow us to better support and understand abuse victims. And iMho, passing judgement on her, the victim, just takes far too much of the onus off of her abuser. #whyistayed is an important discussion, but an equally important question, if not more important, is #whydoesheabuse?
And, ANY domestic abuse is a criminal act. Period. It is wrong, and needs to be condemned and stopped, but while we can acknowledge that yes, men and same sex partners are also the victims of intimate partner violence—and again, they are no less important—it is very important I think, to keep in perspective who the overwhelming majority of abusers are and avoid any disingenuous “both sides” false equivalencies:
This post goes so hard and y’all need to understand this!
I was discussing this with one of my fellow survivors. She barely made it out alive. I moved in a last ditch effort, but I ended up lucky as it ended up my situation was mostly gas lighting (mental manipulation) and empty threats (when it came to distance). My friend and I were lucky. LUCKY.
i never want to get married and have kids i want to be 40 and a highly successful director and show up to my high school reunion dressed entirely in yves saint laurent with blood red lipstick and louboutin heels that could penetrate a man’s soft flesh in the current year’s bmw convertible and wear chanel sunglasses the entire time even while indoors so i don’t have to hold eye contact with the little people
I’ve recieved a lot of requests for a masterpost.
So…I made one.
Like always, contact me with any changes.
Like always, if you’re going to complain that demisexuality isn’t real, polysexuals are just confused, trans* people are liars, or asexuals need to get laid…. Just, I dunno, stop.
Reblogging again because there are some new ones and put them together in one post.
Let’s be honest everyone would rather watch a Black Widow movie than antman
It’s Monday. I’m going home at 6pm and a middle aged man and a teenage boy are the only people left on the bus with me. I consider the fact that because the driver is also a man I am the only person left on the bus with the correct genetic makeup for boobs. I’m automatically scared, scared because of my own anatomy. I wonder how old I was when I realized that my own body was going to be the cause of the constant anxiety and fear I feel in situations like this. I get off at the last stop and the older man smiles at me while following me up the street. His smile drips, drips, drips and my heart is pounding, pounding, pounding. He turns off down another road, but I run the rest of the way home.
Not all men.
I’m at home on a Tuesday, beginning to plan the travels I want to go on next year. I dream of wandering the streets and meeting strangers. I just can’t wait to escape the city I’ve lived in for 17 long years. But… my mum is hesitant. She’s forever worried about the danger that being a young girl traveling alone can bring. I’ll be alone and she’s scared. Surely I’m invincible. I feel invincible. But I know, I know this danger is real and I can’t help but think to myself, if I feel unsafe in my own city, how am i going to feel in a strange place with strange men who don’t speak the same language as me? If I was my brother planning this, I would probably just be wondering if European girls are going to be hot.
Not all men.
Wednesday is a beautiful sunny day but I’ve always been told that I don’t have a “nice enough body” to wear a bikini on the beach. Ever since I was 6 years old I’ve thought that having tummy fat was ugly. That skin that doesn’t have a perfectly golden glow is undesirable. I amble to a clear patch of sand in my one piece and I can feel pairs of eyes latching onto me. Hairy men in speedos who I don’t look twice at eat into my body with their stares. I’m a piece of meat. I am a piece of meat? I am here for their amusement. Please don’t let me be eaten alive.
Not all men.
Thursday night two friends and I are walking to our god damn school dance when we hear “Jesus look at you! You sluts heading to a pole?” These words snarl out of the mouth of a respectably dressed man and we stop in horror. Shivers roll up my back in fear. It’s dark. We are alone. What. Do. We. Do??? One of us pulls the finger back. I can never be sure how quickly a sexist man can get angry so we walk quickly away. We’re angry, so so angry. But also so… deflated. I wonder if we deserve this shame.
Not all men.
Sitting on the internet, Friday night and scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed:
“Haha, good job at the game today bro. You RAPED them!”
“Damn with tits like that, you’re asking for it :P”
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
Another sexist comment…
I’m shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and I want to CRY because these boys don’t realize how small they make me feel with just pressing a few keys. I see these boys on the streets, I talk to these boys, I laugh with these boys. Dear GOD, dear GOD i hope these boys don’t think actions speak louder than words…
Not all men.
Three rules that have been drilled into me since I was young run through my mind at 1.30am on a Satur… Sunday Morning:
-Don’t ever talk to strange men
-Don’t ever be alone at night in a strange place
-Don’t ever get into a car with a stranger
I break all 3 of these laws as I pull open the taxi door. Making light conversation with the driver, he doesn’t see my sweaty hand clutching the small pocket knife I keep hidden on me at all times. He doesn’t even realize the fear I feel at his mere presence. He cannot comprehend it, he never will. How easy would this 15 minute car ride be if I was born a boy?
Not all men.
It comes to Sunday, another snoozy, sleepy, Sunday and someone has the AUDACITY to tell me not all men are rapists. I say nothing.
I’m a 17 year old girl.
When I am walking alone and it’s dark, it’s all men.
When I am in a car with a man I don’t know well, it’s all men.
When men drunkenly leer at me on the streets, it’s all men.
When a boy won’t leave me alone at a party, it’s all men.
Not all men are rapists. But for a young girl like me? Every one of them has the potential to be.
Natasha puts pretty much all her fears to rest immediately, smiling and squeezing her shoulder and telling her it’s all right, nothing’s going to change, come on, let’s find you something to wear that’s a little bit less Steve’s old baggy clothes. It’s almost too easy, and she’s on-edge for the first few days, especially when Nat gently asks if she can talk to Pepper about it. But when Nat and Pepper sweep her up, one on either side of her and linking their arms through her arms, and insist that they’re going to find something absolutely perfect for her to wear, she lets herself relax.
It’s harder with Steve, because she’s known Steve basically her whole life. So when he slings his arm around her shoulder, tugs a little on the ends of her hair, and laughs out a, C’mon, Buck, this is getting too long, you really gotta do something about it, she panics.
“I - I’m growing it out.”
“Really? What for?”
And the words tumble out of her in a rush, because she doesn’t know how to lie without making him ask even more questions, and Nat and Pepper have been so sweet and supportive and Steve - he’s Steve, he could never be anything but good to her. Still, she’s shaking by the time she finishes the explanation - almost a tirade in her efforts to make him understand - with a soft apology for lying to him. And Steve takes a deep breath and reaches out and hugs her, pulling her close against his chest and stroking her hair and making soft, soothing noises as he reassures her that, “It’s all right, you’re all right, I’m right here for you, and I’m always gonna be right here for you.”
And when she finally stops shaking and he lets her go, he tilts her chin up and smiles at her and says, “You’ll look so pretty with long hair, but you should ask Nat for advice on how to cut it in the meantime.”
She laughs because she and Nat have been discussing possible haircuts for nearly a week now and she has a small gallery of photos for when she finally goes to get it done.
From there, it’s a little easier. She doesn’t come out to Tony so much as he organically absorbs the fact from her changing presentation and the fact that every time he opens his mouth to say something, either Natasha or Pepper appears and stares him down until he starts using the correct pronouns. Bruce makes the switch with a smile and a, “Congratulations,” and the only question he asks is whether she’s changing her name. (She will, someday, once she’s decided on what she wants. She gives Bruce the one she was most considering, and he uses it consistently until she tells him that she’s not feeling it as much as she thought.)
When she comes out to Clint, he grins at her, gives her a rough, one-armed hug, and announces, “When you’re ready for it, I’ll hook you up with my endocrinologist! She’s great, you’ll love her,” just a little too loudly in his excitement.
She tells Sam over text-message because he works in DC during the week, and the wait for Friday, when he comes home for the weekend is agonizing. When the quinjet finally touches down, she meets him at the door in a sweater and skirt Pepper picked out for her, with Steve hovering a little anxiously behind her. His grin doesn’t waver as he leans in to kiss her on the cheek and says, “Hey, girl, you look beautiful. What’s for dinner?”
She doesn’t realize she was holding her breath until she sighs it out in relief and throws her arms around Sam’s neck.