I’ve neglected you. I don’t call, I don’t write but I’m back, just like that asshole you gave your number to 4 months ago. These last few months have been busy, amazing and scary all at once. I’ve changed. Kind of a big statement to make but this time off has shown me who I can be and what I’m made of. I’ve been resistant to my own evolution for a while now. And although there has been some growth in the last 3 years, it’s mostly been stagnant because of fear. I’m not one made or built for change, I know how that sounds and yes I am aware that one can live without constant change. But what scares me is the lack of control when those changes come into effect. I’m so scared of how change will affect me that I don’t always realize that it’s necessary. But it’s like I’m seeing many things and people for the first time ( I swear, I wanna slap myself for this cult-like sentence…). What happens when you finally realize that you’re the reason you’re unhappy? How can such a small revelation fuck your entire life up?
Welcome to 2016, where it’s a crime to be a woman and be proud of it. Welcome to age where being a woman is now hazardous to your physical safety. Probation is now the choice sentence for rapists and hell, it’s been a good year for rapists, black and white alike. You can now rape and go to college, and you can now rape and get $17.5 millions for your script. In short, no one is loosing this year, unless you happen to have a vagina and decide to be outspoken about your vagina. From Feminazi to Vagenda (First, off like the people coming up with this shit, should at least try a little harder with these names..), seemed like everyone with a pussy is on guard to either get physically attacked, threatened and pretty much dismissed unless, well, they have a penis (and not even a very big one at that…). And to hear it, some, equality is here so they don’t really know what we (feminists) are bitching about…
Can we be real with each other? What is it with guilt that drives people to recoil in the fetal position the minute they try to be a little more selfish? Can’t we put ourselves first? Men do it all the time (Penis firs though..) but as women we’re so constantly worried that people will see us as self-centered or acting in self-interest. We’re ready to prove them wrong even if it means that we’ll spend the next 30 years miserable, just so Mr. Smith and his dick can be happy…Is devotion really worth the mental anguish and the constant self-doubt?
I went the mall the other day and stopped at one of those sunglasses cart and started looking and talking to the vendor. As we’re talking, he start asking me where I’m from. Before I could even give him an answer, he says ” I mean, which part of the states are you visiting from”. First off, I’m neither impressed or flattered that you’ve mistaken me for an American, and second, how about you let me talk you little old, Oliver Twist. When I told me him that I was in fact Canadian, he then asked me where exactly, because I sound America, I told him Montreal and then he came me that FUCKING look. For those of you not familiar with the “look”, it’s when a person of color is asked where they’re from and it’s usually asked by a white person squinting their little their beady eyes as a way of meaning “you know what I really mean= Canadians are not black” or if you’re really lucky they’ll straight up ask you. “I mean, where are you really from? When did you come to Canada?” which is when I start remembering the breathing techniques that I learned in anger management (a story for another day…).