Fuck You, Fuck Everything You Have

Creative Writing, equality, Family, forgotten, fuck you, Jealousy, Journal, Personal, school

I’m not popular,
I’ll never be.

I’m the kid that sits alone at lunch
Cramming their homework in

The kid who walks straight home after school

Kid who doesn’t socialize with everyone else
mostly because they have rejected me my entire life.

Kindergarten was the same, kids walked by and shunned me from their view
Odd one out, forgot your name, last to be picked for the team.

I don’t get a lot of likes on Instagram, even if I did, I’m no Kylie Jenner
I’m not thin, or eloquent with my speech, I stumble over my own feet.

Only the odd like me, maybe I’m the queen of the unspoken followers.
I’ll be the queen of those who are constantly rejected, the unseen and trampled.

We are the overused race, the unvoiced angst of the century.

Fuck those picture perfect girls, who don’t need photoshop but use it anyway
Fuck those kids who don’t realize everything they have.

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The Gender Template

beautiful, bisexual, equality, feminism, fuck you, Humanist, Journal, school, science

The following is a blog post I wrote from my AP Lang class project on gender:

Gender. The word itself brings back memories of baby showers decorated in all blue, sitting through long sermons about how ladies should conduct themselves, and the rigorous dress codes ladies had to follow for recitals (damn you, toe seams).annoyed ugh eye roll eyeroll

Typically, I’m the kind who defines a concept through a logical explanation (thanks, scientific method), but gender cannot be explained biologically. (or can it..?)

Yes, yes, I know. Females have an extra chromosome, we have different hormones – there are biological differences between the sexes. But gender and sex are quite different, despite being so closely correlated.

So, what is gender if it cannot be explained through hard science?
How can we define it if there is no definitive aspects of what makes someone a guy or a girl?

I’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t have the tools necessary to understand gender – yet. As a firm believer in science, I believe that given the proper tools, the scientific method, and the right mindset, someone can make sense out of the world’s “phenomenon”.

Cue X-Files theme:

the truth is out there

But this is no X-File, gender can be X-Plained one way or another.

Gender roles are culturally instilled in humans all over the world; in the American culture men are expected to conform to the masculine stigma, which is: angry, emotionally out of touch, and intimidating.

We saw this from the gendered razor commercials, to the way John acts in The Yellow Wallpaper, by Charlotte Perkins Stetson – cold, stern, and logical.

Women on the other hand are expected to submit to a man’s anger–even if it is a complete stranger–it is assumed that every woman is emotionally in touch with herself, and that she possesses this “motherly instinct”.

But I honestly don’t. I don’t feel like I have a maternal instinct – I never have. In fact, I don’t plan on having my own children because I simply don’t want them.

We are, as women, expected to play dumb. To allow men to explain things to us that our teeny little brains just can’t comprehend. (Culturally, not specifically your uncle Eric who lives in Oklahoma – but maybe him too).

Party Over Here comedy haha hilarious nicole byer

Because women do everything for them dudes

While I can see how gender roles have shaped our society, they have created this imbalance between the relationship men and women have. Gender is just this illusion humans have used to describe anatomy – much like how women doctors were considered witches in the renaissance.

We can’t explain it, so it must be sinful, dark, and wrong.

I would like to argue that women are domestic because we are conditioned to be that way. Just as men have been conditioned to like mechanics, agriculture, and football – or whatever it is that the masculine archetype enjoys.

I mean, think about it.

Girls are handed dolls to play with at a young age, I probably got my first doll before I was two years old. Whereas, guys are given toy trucks and Legos.

The way I see it, those physical differences in our worlds between guys and girls at such a critical point in our development have to make some sort of impact.

If we give guys dolls at a young age, then they might become even more “domestic” or lean toward care giving.
If we give girls Legos at a young age, then they might become more logical. 

We are shaped into the people we become, and this is pretty evident once we find out the gender of an unborn child because we start painting their room pink or blue, we buy ribbons or blue onesies based off of a sonogram telling us that kids’ sex. Think about that for a second. We systematically pick from two different colors for our unborn children based off their suspected gender.

I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with this little cultural oddity, but.. We shouldn’t allow for it to define who we are, and if we’re gonna keep it around, maybe add a few more colors.

Though, as we saw in the TedTalk by Alice Dreger, scientists suspect that there are more than just two sexes, so wouldn’t that also mean our idea of having two genders is outdated as well? Maybe we should select a few more colors off our palette for the genders we’ve ignored?

Of course, that’s not the end of the story (when is it?).

(if you don’t think Jason Segel is cute, then we can’t be friends)

Who else has had AP Psych with Hogan? If you have, then you’ve probably heard about the John/Joan case in the 1950’s – if you haven’t here’s a link to an article on the case study. 

If you’re like me, you didn’t click the link – so I’ll expand on what it’s about. Basically, a baby boy went through a tragic accident in which he lost his genitalia, his parents decided to raise him as a girl and never tell him he was born a dude. So, they raise Bruce as Brenda and he never feels like he is in his own skin (poor guy) – and he goes through some emotional turmoil and his mom finally tells him he isn’t actually a Brenda but a Bruceplot twiiiist.

This particular story is unique because we can see what happens when someone grows up thinking they’re one gender when they are biologically another – you might be like “hey, Allysa, that’s supporting the other side and is excluding the transgender community” which is why it’s important to say that we can also see stories of transgender people who have had sex changes, and they are fully satisfied with that.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that this is more about how we perceive our biological sex. Like, you can embrace it if you desire or you can reject it and whatever you choose is cool.

Little Bruce Reimer had no idea that he was born a biological boy, but he knew that being a girl was not for him. Many trans people know their biological sex, and yet they feel like someone else entirely.

People tend to figure out who they are, whether or not they identify with their born sex as their gender. Even Alice Dreger can admit that biology plays a role in our behavior and gender,

“there might be something, on average, different about female brains from male brains that makes us more attentive to deeply complex social relationships, and more attentive to taking care of the vulnerable.”

And I can step back, look at where she is coming from, look at her evidence, and say ‘I can see how that could be the case’.

The only way that we will come to any conclusive idea on gender is if we listen to each other, see where the other side is coming from, and consider all the evidence.

Obviously, no one is the same way.

Girls can be feminine.
Guys can be feminine.
Girls can be masculine.
Guys can be masculine.

Gender is a mixture of nature and nurture, it’s conditioning and biology – why limit our answer to “it’s only this” or “it’s only that”, which not only puts a stopper on our way of thinking, but it also puts a halt on advancements in our culture.

We can have our cake and eat it too, just so long as we are respectful of each other.

So, be respectful. Don’t be rude. And like, if you have a problem with someone else’s gender, ask yourself why you care so much about something that has very little to do with you.

My Perfect Partner: Revised

Atheism, beautiful, Beauty, equality, Family, feminism, Future, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Partner, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, science, Small Things, Smiling

About five months ago, on august 1st of 2016, I wrote a post about my perfect partner. While most of it is still true, I wanted to revise it. After going through my last relationship, some updating needed to happen.

My perfect partner would be taller than me, pretty fit or small, kiss really well. Someone who is sexual, and understand the appeal of large cities. Someone who would be down for adventure at any hour. They would remind me of what I love when I am sad. Preferably would have brown or dark hair, would wear leather shoes (probably oxfords or sandals). High libido. They would play chess, read for leisure, cook occasionally. Someone who would appreciate music with foreign lyrics and instrumental pieces. They would have the desire to see the world, to go places. Someone who loves foggy weather, as well as the rainy days. They would share my nerdy side, loving Lord of the Rings, Sherlock, The X-files, or whatever I’m interested in then as much as me. We would share the same taste in music and humor, I mean, a relationship with puns would have to be a good one. They kind of need to love sushi, because it’s literally my favorite. They would be an open-minded person who looks at (and doesn’t ignore) facts, someone who uses reasoning and skepticism to come to conclusions. A critical thinker, an intelligent being. Their occupation would be in a field of science or art, they would be a logical person with soft emotions. They would be passionate and caring, interesting but not a douche, kind but not in a delusional way. Ethically, I would see in them what I aspire to be. They would aspire to know everything they could, never stop learning. Someone who wants to make a change in the world, who is as crazy as I am in thinking that we could actually make a difference – but they don’t let that stop them.

Someone who would understand that I have my many emotional issues, and they wouldn’t guilt me for having them. They would understand that sometimes I need to be loved. Someone who wouldn’t mind my spam texting them, or that I over analyze the simplest of things. They wouldn’t mind that I can overreact to things, because let’s face it, I can make a lot of issues for myself. They would understand that I have a difficult time loving people, that I have a difficult time trusting someone after that trust has been broken. They would understand that I am a person who fluctuates in everything: emotions, weight, ideas. I’m constantly changing and don’t like settling.

Most importantly, we would want to make a relationship together work. We would make the other feel at peace, and loved. There will be no “if we’re still together then”, there would be trust and mutual satisfaction. There wouldn’t be that looming sense that one day we would break up.

I feel the intense desire to be in a long term relationship with someone like this. Surprisingly, nothing drastic has changed in the last five months, but a lot of little things were not the same anymore.

And of course, we would have to love each other.

Asking for It.

anti feminism, Awareness, beautiful, Beauty, Blame, equality, Failure, feminism, fuck you, Her, home, Journal, no trust, Personal, sexual harassment, stalker, Street Harassment

Adult men and teenage boys should stop following women on the street. Men should stop making unsolicited comments on women’s bodies. They should humanize themselves and the women they are doing these things to.

Today, the 8th of October 2016, a grown man followed me in his SUV. He consciously made the decision to follow a young girl, by removing his parked car from a parking lot to driving alongside her at a walking pace. This man, whoever he is, watched me walking and thought, “I should get her in my car”. I can’t allow myself to imagine what would have happened to me if he had gotten me inside of his SUV.

All this happened on the street I live on. He targeted me not even a block from my home. As I was walking, I realized I couldn’t go home – I couldn’t give him such precious information.

This was the second time a man followed me while in a car. This was the fourth time a man I was unfamiliar with has made an unsolicited comment about my body while in public. All of these things have happened this year. I am only sixteen years old. How much worse will this get as I get older?

It is disgusting that grown men can freely gawk at underage girls and have virtually no punishment.

In more than one way, I have been fortunate. I have only had these experiences during daylight. I have always been in moderately public places, and they have never used force or violence towards me. But those things have happened to other women, and I wouldn’t doubt that the men who have harassed me are capable of sexually assaulting, kidnapping, or raping their victims.

I am also fortunate that the police made no comment on my attire – they didn’t slut shame me for wearing a crop top, a short skirt, and wedges. They are taking my case seriously, despite the fact that they could get away with a simple “she was asking for it”. In fact, the two officers were very receptive and gave me a lot of comfort after the incident.

“Hey you!”
I turned. A man, in a car? Okay. Continued walking, crossed the street. Don’t acknowledge him, hopefully he’ll go away. Walking, I heard a car come up behind me. Is it him? It’s not him, don’t worry. This wouldn’t happen to you again. This stuff only happens like, once.. Right? The car came up from behind, it slowed down, approaching me. Nearly stopping, it crawled to a walking pace.”Someone as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking,” he said “let me give you a ride.”
“It’s alright,” I said, “I don’t need a ride, thank you,” I looked directly in his eyes as I said the last bit.
He continued to follow me. Hoping he couldn’t see how nervous he made me, I refrained from wiping the sweat off my brow. Why isn’t he going away? I want him to go away.
“You really are pretty,” my chest tightened. I couldn’t breathe.
“Come on, let me give you a ride,”
Why? So you can rape me? He sped away, turning around just a little ways ahead of me. He stopped. Why did he stop? Is he waiting for me? Is he going to try to run me over? Is he going to get out of his car and try to take me? His car started to move again. I let out an audible sigh. Coming closer to me, I figured he would just drive away. Of course he didn’t. Approaching me again, he rolled down his window, “Hey pretty girl,” he waited for a response. I gave none.
“Okay, fine, be that way.” He was angry. Sped away.

I rushed home, tripping over my wedges, I nearly sprained my ankle. I just wanted to be safe. Never had I felt so alarmed when I could see home – my safe zone.

I made it inside, sat down in the sofa and looked at my door. A noise outside startled me. is it him? No. There were children’s voices. I was safe. But I couldn’t stop staring at the door. I got up to lock it, then proceeded to lock myself in the bathroom and look up harassment on my phone.

What’s Going on Here?

equality, Future, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, New, Partner, Personal, Small Things

I don’t quite understand this yet, but I’m hoping that through writing things out as I go I can gain some knowledge.. I feel like things have been distant between us. I feel like you haven’t been as attentive as you were before, when we were first talking. It’s made me start questioning.. Not question my feelings, not even question your feelings, because I trust those are both true. But I have begun to question if we started dating too fast.

I’m nervous about a lot of things, insecure about them even, and I’m voicing these so we can be aware of the things that worry me and not make them worse if they have any merit. If you have any worries, I would hope you would feel comfortable enough to tell me.

Now, before I begin, these worries could all be a product of hormones and overthinking, but to be safe I am writing them out.

I’m worried that we started dating before we really got to know eachother. I’m worried that the connection we have won’t last. I got to thinking, while I was cooking myself dinner the other night, that most kids who start dating in high school don’t last as couples. I mean, there are the select few who stick together, but they are few. I’m worried that this is more important and serious to me than it is to you. I’m worried that I can’t get you off. I’m worried that we are just different enough for things to not work out in the long run.

I also thought about how I haven’t had a relationship that lasted, that by May we might not be together because that just happens to be the time of year when I have broken up both times.

I don’t want you to change anything for me. Long term relationships only work when both parties are being themselves with each other. I get that you adapt well, but that’s a different thing, adapting and completely changing yourself for people are entirely different. If you change for someone, you are denying who you are. If you adapt, you are acknowledging your surroundings and through being yourself are making the other people comfortable in the ways you know how that you think they will appreciate. I think, right?

I find that when you respond in short, quick messages, I can’t reply in a meaningful way. It actually upsets me because I really want to continue a conversation with you but I can’t because it feels like you could care less that we are texting. What has been communicated through the short, quick, meaningless responses is a lack of effort and a sense that you don’t care if we do or don’t talk.. Now, I will obviously try to understand where you’re coming from here (and I have tried to already) if you just don’t like being on your phone or texting the entire day.. but if you know I’ve had a bad day and we haven’t been talking that day, please don’t ignore me all night playing video games and forget to say goodnight. Those things do mean something to me. Even if I don’t see that goodnight text before I go to sleep, waking up and seeing a message from you makes me happy. In fact, any form of reassurance that you care about me is always welcome because I tend to doubt that in everyone.

My Perfect Partner

Athiest, beautiful, Beauty, bisexual, Domestic Violence, equality, Family, feminism, Future, Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Memories, Partner, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Religion, Small Things, Smiling

My perfect partner.. They would be assertive, taller than me, about a year older than me, pretty fit or small, kiss really well, their occupation would be in a field of science, they would be a mathematical person with soft emotions, we would share the same taste in music and humor, they would be atheist or buddhist. Preferably would have brown or dark hair, would wear leather shoes (probably oxfords or sandals). They would play chess, read for leisure, cook occasionally. High libido, masculine but not necessarily male. They would love theatre like Shakespeare and have wanderlust. They would aspire to know everything they could, never stop learning. They would love foggy weather, as well as the rainy days. They would share my nerdy side, loving Lord of the Rings and Sherlock as much as me. They would understand that I have many emotional issues, including but not limited to PTSD, depression, anxiety, and binge eating. They would understand that sometimes I really just need to be left alone or have things that are just mine and don’t share. They would let me go through everything I need to – like dying/cutting my hair, losing or gaining weight, that sometimes I get jealous and I can’t help it. They wouldn’t mind me spam texting them when I feel like it, that I can over analyze things because of my past. They wouldn’t mind that I can overreact to things, that sometimes I need weeks or months to just cry. Sometimes I can’t sleep. They would understand that I have a really difficult time loving people, that I have a really difficult time trusting something that isn’t fantasy or an animal. They would understand that I am a person who fluctuates in everything: emotions, weight, ideas. I’m constantly changing and don’t like settling. They would understand that I have a very hard time trusting men specifically, that I have a lot of triggers, that when I love I love fully and will commit like nothing else in the entire world because they are mine and they understand me. They would need to be passionate and caring, interesting but not a douche, kind but not delusionally so. They would never leave me. They would be really sexual, enjoy the mystery of large cities and live in one with me. Their last name wouldn’t start with an S because I don’t want my initials to be ASS (which sucks because I have a tendency to attract and be attracted to people with surnames that begin with S). They would be down for adventure at any hour. They wouldn’t let me get stuck in my ruts where I forget what I love..

Most importantly, I want to be attracted to them in the way that I fall in love instantly. The kind that makes me crazy, the kind that I can’t sleep over. Where I yearn to know everything about them and once I know that, I want to learn more.

They would be feminist, an ally or part of the LGBTQ community, they wouldn’t support anything anti-LGBT, they would understand the importance of spreading the knowledge of domestic violence. They would love me as much as I love them and I wouldn’t doubt it. They would like small dogs and cats, enjoy poetry and a cup of tea. They would own professional clothing – as a male they would wear a navy suit, as a woman a pencil skirt and blazer.. They would hold my hand when we were shopping, they would hug me often.. I would never doubt them.

This person makes me believe in love. They make me warm and happy inside.

Squash Me like a Grape

Blame, equality, forgotten, fuck you, Future, Her, Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Memories, no trust, Personal, school

Every time I think about my relationship with Cadence (specifically how it ended), I’m filled with rage. It’s been like four months already, but when I see a status of his on Facebook or see Megan’s friends online, I get angry and frustrated..

It’s different than how I felt about Sam when we broke up – maybe that’s because Cadence broke up with me (I was intending to do it too, but there’s a form of belittlement and shame that goes along with being broken up with that hurts in a different way), or maybe it’s because I doubted his monogamy toward me while we were together.. Or that I question if he ever stopped caring for Megan.

It’s different from Sam because I never questioned if he loved me – he was loyal and good. Cadence, on the other hand.. Things happened that made me question everything I thought I knew when we were together, I thought I could trust him. I told him things I hadn’t told anyone else. I fell asleep in his arms and let myself pour out and made myself trust him because I remember wondering if I could ever trust a man after my father had been so abusive..

So I put myself out there – I trusted him – what did I get in return? Information that he still had feelings for Megan. It killed me. Not because I sincerely liked him, but because I put effort into trusting him and he hurt me, used the things I told him against me.

I was torn apart, what was I supposed to do? I had made myself vulnerable to him, and he took that opportunity to fuck me over.

I don’t want these trust issues. I don’t want to question everyone’s motives when they try to be a part of my life. I don’t want to be this con man who always has to have the upperhand because they’re scared someone will hurt them. I want to be openly vulnerable with my emotions, to be an open book with no secrets.. But I do have secrets, and I guard them with dear life because they are all I have. Those secrets are the only things I have control over once shit hits the fan. They are my security blanket that catch me when I have to jump off a 7 story building that’s on fire. They protect me from the Cadence’s and Art’s..

Just writing this out has helped me immensely. I realized that the anger I was feeling was just a topical emotion – there was a lot under it that meant a lot more.

I’m hurt that I put myself out there and Cadence squashed me like a grape.

I’m Suspicious (with reason)

Blame, equality, feminism, forgotten, fuck you, Future, Her, Hope, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, no trust

I’ve been considering things, and I’ve known for quite some time that I was uncomfortable with my reaction to Cadence/Megan (aka Bitch Faced Cunt). How I had essentially blamed Megan for Cadence’s actions, how I took it out on her. It made me feel like a terrible feminist, like a terrible person.

After a conversation with my mom this evening, it came to me. I wasn’t a bad person or feminist for reacting the way I did. If Megan had been a man in the same scenario, I would have reacted the same way. I wasn’t degrading her as a girl, I was degrading her because she was a shitty person who did some shitty things. I had my reasons for being suspicious about her during my relationship with Cadence, and it turned out the suspicions were accurate.

I went through Cadence’s messages with her before (with his consent), and his reactions when I was on his phone made me uncomfortable. He looked nervous, he had that look in his eye – he was scared I was going to find something..

And I found out Cadence wasn’t a trustworthy dude. He sent nude photos of me to his best friend and lied to me about it when I confronted him.. He would lie to me about how often he talked to Megan.. Those things themselves really don’t bother me.. So what? Another dude has seen my breasts, I really don’t give a fuck about that. But he lied to me. And so what? He was talking to one of his friends, Megan. I wouldn’t have cared, but he lied.

He made himself suspicious by lying. He made himself a douchebag by lying. He was never the most trustworthy looking guy, I mean, he got banned from Target for loitering in the chip aisle and he knew how to slash tires (!?) which really should have sent more warning lights off than it originally did (duly noted, and to be assessed later), plus his parents were also banned from a whole city and his dad went to prison.. They also illegally sold pot.

Man. Bad family. I should really count my “blessings” that I got out of that relationship and it didn’t get any more serious.

The entire reason for this post is that I no longer need to feel guilty about my reaction to what happened, I blamed her not because of jealousy of her as a girl or because I was angry at Cadence, both of which I was accused of, but because the entire time I was right and as much as those two would like to deny my own accusations about how they did things together that they knew I would be uncomfortable and hid it from me, then lied about it, it happened and because it happened, I am entitled to feel as angry, annoyed, or flustered as I goddamn want to.

They can no longer make me feel inferior about having emotions or for having a negative reaction to something that they repeatedly lied and hid from me. I guess they were angry more that I had found out and less that it had happened.

Fake Faced Cunt

anti feminism, Atheism, Awareness, beautiful, Beauty, bisexual, equality, feminism, fuck you, Her, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, Personal, school, Sexuality, Uncategorized

So I might have mentioned that I was going on a school trip to San Francisco, and if I didn’t, well.. My bad.

But I went. It was my second time there and it was really fun.

But The Little Cunt-Faced Bitch also was there. She and I had a few tense moments. I really do not like her, and I’ve tried to sort out why that is.. The best conclusion that I have made is explained best in this message I sent to Cadence about her.

“I’m not trying to convince you that you shouldn’t like her, but I am trying to help you understand why I don’t. She seems fake to me. I find her repulsive because she seems very shallow and like a people pleaser – which is annoying because I don’t dance around the truth, I don’t hide from what I know is true or what I witness. When I see signs that someone isn’t healthy for me, I get out. And I warned her about Caleb – how he gave me bad vibes – and she continued to date him until it bit her in the ass and even then, she made it sound so negative that I didn’t like him. Like, GIRL. I was trying to help you because I could tell he was an ass wipe. But nooooo – then I was just a bitchy girl sticking my nose in her business. When in reality, I was just being the independent and open person that I am and voicing my opinions because I don’t DANCE AROUND WHAT I SEE. Also, she uses guys to get confidence – for instance you, Thierry, Toby, and random dudes who she meets on the street (which I witnessed at least twice on our trip). I find that trait frustrating because its dependency. I fucking hate dependent people. So yeah. Those are some reasons why I don’t like her. She seems fake and she uses people.”

Copy and pasted, exactly as I sent to him.

So yeah, she got a septum ring, which I’m the only person at my school who wears one, and it’s a big deal that I did. So I felt like it was really fake of her to wear one when she doesn’t understand the meaning behind why people do. The image it creates, it’s not supposed to loosely mean powerful or anything like that… It’s feminism for some, it’s empowerment, it’s being LGBTQ or an ally…. I felt like she was degrading and making the septum ring worthless and stripping it of it’s meaning by wearing one.

She’s a straight, white, christian girl who lives in a home that’s VERY well off… I mean, they take trips all the time and get new clothes, her parents are together. She has an allowance. She has it a whole fucking lot easier than most people. That’s why I scoffed at her, called her fake (and also a bitch..) to her fake ass face.

She doesn’t get it, I resent her. I hate her.

If anyone reading this would like to give their two cents, offer a possible explanation of why I feel the way I do about her, that’d be nice.