Just Don’t Read the Comments AKA The Post That “Wasn’t Appropriate” for Online Feminist Publications
So I stumbled upon a name recenty – Iggy Azalea. Soon after I discovered Ms. Azalea, I came across this video of hers, called Pussy. Well, it was a song before it was a music video, such as it is, but it’s the video that’s got me intrigued.
Women often combat with a lot of different forces when it comes to expressing our sexuality. I’ve been extra-fascinated by Rihanna as of late, because I think Rihanna’s sexuality, how she is portrayed in magazines and what not… is pretty close to some real, authentic version of Rihanna. You see her rocking some photoshoots, wearing little, next-to-nothing, but I don’t think that is because she is pressured to do so. Sure, when she’s posing for a men’s magazine they want her to be next-to-nude, if not nude, but I honestly don’t believe that her just going along with it. I think her own sexuality, as a woman, as a person, overlaps, and perhaps at times has a similar agenda as the one which men’s magazines might have for her.
I read a fantastic interview a while back (will post if/when I re-locate it), where Rihanna was talking about her sexuality and why she does the things she does. Now, if you are familiar with how many women of name are coaxed in lead into basically giving spank-bank material, this was not the case here. She was talking about her roots, she was talking about sexuality as an abstract concept, and how her own sexuality relates to her core being.
… but I am actually really impressed with this tumblr called Orgasmic Tips for Girls; what I’ve basically taken from that title (after looking through the content), is that it’s “female friendly”, and talks very openly/candidly about areas of sexuality you might not always feel like you can.
So no, I’m not changing my mind and jumping on some bandwagon of sorts – I still strongly identify as porn and kink critical. And as controversial as some would like to make it, I still take issue with many things that have taken to snagging up the self-identifier “feminist porn” (Note: OTfG does not identify as such). This site though, is really cool. And all I’m saying is that if you are curious about something sexually, and you want a safe website where you can explore that without being triggered every other second (because, boy, do I get that), check this site out. There are scenes done that are focused on female pleasure for the sole sake of female pleasure, as opposed to, you know, male gazey shiznit.
Looking through the archive (like I did), you’ll see there is graphic/explicit content (ie. close-up shots of genitalia that showcase squirting, PiV penetration), but there is also non-explicit content; an example of this would be numerous masturbation videos where an individual is just diddling with their hand in their pants… sound familiar? Maybe that’s what I like most about the site. It seems so real. Oh! There is also a lot of text fantasy sharing
I could go on, but I think I’ll just let you check it out for yourself (if you’d like). Obviously, the site is NSFW.
Like most women, I am (unfortunately) all too used to being cat-called. It’s surely an every day occurrence and has come to faze me very little, if at all – another thing that is pretty unfortunate if you really think about it. I handle myself “well”. Tonight, however, was really the first time in my adult life that I remember being cat-called and then feeling pure embarrassment and humiliation afterwards.
Oddly enough though, this embarrassment was over probably the “tamest” cat-call I’ve ever received.
I was in front of my local 7-11, returning a movie from RedBox – and for all you slut-shamers who are wondering: I was wearing Soffe gym shorts, a racerback tank top (which showed zero cleavage), a big sweater over my shoulders, and combat boots. As I’m standing in front of this RedBox contraption, trying to get it to take back my movie, these two dudes drive by in their car and yelled “Damn girl!” before grunting a few times. Then they were gone.
Why was this so humiliating? Surely I’ve heard so much worse? Yes, I have. But as I began to turn around and walk back towards my car, I see the guy in line behind me, leering at what they had exclaimed “Damn!” to, and snickering. Behind him, I see a man in his car who had a look of pity that seemed to read, “It must suck to be a woman, having to deal with that shit…. Now where was I…? Oh yeah – what should I have for dinner?” Apparently he’s not all that concerned after-all…
On the brief drive home I got myself pretty worked up, not thinking about the actual cat-call itself, but the two very different reactions that these men had, and how they are both two sides of a very problematic coin.
Q.) I know you’ve been posting a lot of body positive stuff so I want to ask, is it ok to not like certain parts of your body at least if their a logical reason? As I’ve mentioned before I’m FtM transgender and my boobs are really big ;-; as much as I like breasts I really don’t want really noticeable impossible to hide boobs on me. I don’t hate myself… just not all that pleased with nature.
A.) I like to tread carefully when it comes to body positive stuff, and really body-related stuff in general, because they can have a great effect. If you or anyone else has a follow-up question or clarification bout my wording or phrasing, please let me know!
In my opinion, I think it would be a bad idea to tell someone that it’s wrong to not like a certain part of their body. You can’t assume to know what another’s relationship has been like, what the history has been, and what it’s like now.
I also think telling someone that it’s wrong to have problem with their body is unrealistic – given the image-saturated society we live in, it’s probably inevitable at some point for everyone, right? If I went around proclaiming “I love everything about my body; it’s fabulous, and I’ve always thought so…” <— This would not only be completely untrue, but it would also make others feel like something was wrong with them for having trouble with this notion in the first place. That’s why I think it’s much better to simply be honest with yourself about how you feel and where you at. When in doubt, I aim for self-love, which can work its way to your exterior, but has a definite inward focus.
It’s great that you like your boobs, but if you are concerned about your gender presentation, or just how comfortable you’re feeling in your own skin publicly, it makes perfect sense that you might have some less than pleasant feelings on that front. I am a ciswoman, so I cannot and would not presume to know how you are feeling, but the situation does seem to be little bit of a cognitive dissonance.
I was sitting outside enjoying the nice SoCal weather, when I realized I was having a “Hey, I feel good about my body” kind of day – so I took a picture. Granted, it’s not really a good one, and I didn’t spend time “photoshooting it up”, taking lots, and then picking the sole keeper - anyway, this is the photo I took – it makes me happy.
What I like about it specifically, and why I find it so body positive, is that it shows my soft (or “squishy” as my partner likes to fondly say) parts. I look at this photo and it reminds me of going on one of those big slides that state fairs have during the summer.
We start going down and we hit the first bump (my boobs), we go down further and hit the fluff that shows up from my belly in pooch from when I sit down – and then of course I have a bountiful hips and thighs… that’s the advanced slope.
TW: Discussions of Rape in Film
After seeing The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in theatres last winter, I came back and wrote a series of posts on my tumblr about the film, after all, there was a lot of content to cover, and quite a bit of controversy as well. The post of mine that seemed to spark the most controversy was my post covering the scene where Lisbeth Salander is raped; this wasn’t solely because I was recounting rape scene, but because I brought up the notion that rape scenes should not be titillating. Cue the onslaught of messages I was to receive.
Call it nostalgia, call it whatever you’d like, but I’d like to re-open that can of worms, with a right and proper example of a “sexy” (aka very poorly executed) rape scene I saw the other night, courtesy of Watchmen.
(Note: in my recount of the scene’s set-up, you will not need to be familiar with the movie/characters at all to understand)
Sally Jupiter (Silk Spectre) walks into a room alone. We watch her as she begins to relax, then she starts to remove her clothing. She wriggles, as she begins to fight her tight corset and fitted stockings, and we view as if we are part of the scene. Practically on top of her, we get a variety of close-ups within seconds. Sexy, right? If you’re into that straight male-gazey sexist kind of “sexy” then yeah, sure. And we know mainstream Hollywood is, so yeah again.
Next thing we know, Edward Blake (The Comedian) comes into the room, presumably having been watching Sally this whole time, and starts to try and have sex with her. She is very forceful, stern, and direct in her no; there’s no mistaking it. They even begin to physically fight - she tries to stop him as he tries to assault her sexually, and the reason he is not “successful” in his rape, is not for lack of trying – he eventually slams her head against table and has her pinned. No, another guy comes in and stops it all. Maybe her husband? I wasn’t sure at that point of the movie, but it did’t matter.
The point is, Zack Snyder set us up for a sexy scene, he goes through all the motions that skeevy directors usually do, and turns out, it’s a rape scene. My partner offered that the close-ups, the watching her undress was supposed to be us, the audience, seeing through Edward’s eyes. That’s not how it plays out though, because we don’t see it from his subjective, outside of the room, twenty-some feet away perspective. That would have played off as voyeuristic and creepy. It would have played like Sally’s space was being invades. Instead, we get beautifully lit close-ups – so close, we wouldn’t have been able to get them had we been sitting on her lap. We even get soft music even, for Pete’s sake.
We are left to take our sweet time enjoying Sally’s body, not even moments before she is assaulted.
Zack Snyder, you’re doing it wrong.
(Bonus: Apparently Sally later has consensual sex [?] with Edward, and we find out that he is the real father of her now grown daughter. She is ashamed of this, she says, but doesn’t regret it, because “he gave me you”, she tells her daughter at the end of the film.)
A couple of readers – or I suppose it could have been one, since they were anon – politely asked if I wouldn’t mind talking about my experiences with mental health professionals. I have mentioned on prior occasions to readers that I see a therapist once a week, and I also have a psychiatrist that I go see every once and again. I haven’t gone into too many details of what that is like though, and I know it can be scary, especially if you are new to the game and don’t know how exactly to go about the whole process. I’ll be sure to go into the HowTos of finding a therapist and/or psychiatrist at a later date, but I happen to be seeing both of mine tomorrow, so I’d like to write a post about the significant changes I will be putting in motion when it comes to my mental health services. And who knows, maybe in the process, I’ll be able to help get rid of some of the stigma attached to it, and some of the enigmatic qualities these matters seem to possess.
So tomorrow I first have an appointment with my psychiatrist (I’ll call her “Dr. L”), and then later on, I have an appointment with my therapist, “J”. I’ve been talking to J about getting a new psychiatrist, because I don’t think things have been working out with Dr. L. I drive all the way to Pasadena to see her, and she literally only meets with me nowadays for five minutes, if that. She always starts with an oh-so-enthusiastic “How are you!?”, but then I find within a minute or so she stumbles and starts repeating questions, I can only assume it’s because she knows little else to say, after all she’s taken less and less time to get to know me every time I see her.
There have been several yellow flags, but then on my most recent visit, she messed up my prescription, and that’s when I decided I couldn’t go to her anymore. I basiclly felt like my own psychiatrist, which is obviously not a good idea. She stopped listening to me, even when I made a request about a specific medication, and when I told J about the duration of our appointments she said that’s what sounds like a “churn n’ burn” practice. As you can probably deduce, that means that she’s getting as many patients in and out as quickly as she can, so that she can make more money. I don’t know how much of this is conscious (I’ assuming it has to be on some level), or if she is conniving in the slightest, but I do know her services are no longer helping me. The fact of the matter is, I need to switch my medication, and I don’t trust her to make an accurate assessment of what I need.
Q.) Just heard a radio interview with some man who thought that when a woman is wearing a deep cleavage and/or is scantily clad, it’s okay to stare at her, even if she’s clearly uncomfortable with it. The man excused himself by saying that “it confuses him”. I called him out on it (even though he can’t hear me) and my sister defended him by saying that he’s a man. I don’t think this sounds okay at all, or am I just being weird? :/
A.) I want to tell you, and anyone else that finds themselves asking this question: “Am I just being weird?”, “Am I overreacting?”, or “Do I have a right to be mad”?
No. No. and Yes. In that order.
Most of the time, your gut is probably right, however we have been conditioned and socialized that we are wrong, making too big a deal out of things, or my favorite, causing trouble. Really? Causing trouble - I could cause a lot more trouble than calling out problematic shit and speaking my mind, ya feel me?
This is insulting to men and women. The obvious one would be that he feels a sense of entitlement over a woman’s body; so much in fact that he completely disregards how she may feel, or absolutely feels in this case.
This is insulting to men on the other hand, because it makes them sound like they have zero self control, and essentially have a purely reptilian brain. Ouch.
“He’s a man” is never an excuse – I don’t care what for, it’s not an excuse, simple as that. Whether some choose to act like it or not, men are humans. They are individuals. They have all have self control even though some may try to convince you otherwise. They decide individually what they are going to do and say. They decide who they are going to respect, and who they are going to show a complete lack of regard and respect for. They decide who’s body they, and they alone are willing objectifying, who’s person they are dehumanizing, and you my friend, you keep calling that shit out.
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