Well, this is a load of holy crap. Let me tell you about Christian Domestic Discipline.
In eighth grade, my friend Becca had to lug a plastic baby doll around for two weeks. She was in Home Economics, and those babies represented the pinnacle of the teacher’s Curriculum for Southern Young Women.
“I am well aware: The threat I pose to the patriarchy is enormous. That a woman could be intelligent, educated and CHOOSE to be a sex worker is almost unfathomable.”
I remember the exact moment my body became postpartum. I saw my body in that moment when it delivered my daughter, and I wanted to hate it. It would have been so easy to hate it. I was used to those feelings of disdain. They were what I knew. But I didn’t have the energy or the motivation for that hate.
You’re slaying dragons, swinging a gigantic sword. You’re crashing through hallways, gun strapped to your back, taking it off to shoot at a moment’s notice. You’re releasing a spray of arrows midair. But that character that’s swinging that sword, shooting that gun or bow… what does it look like? Most likely, it has pretty unrealistic proportions.
From guest blogger Kim: “I recently added another year to my fifth decade on this side of the world. I must say I love this decade most of all. […] I am hopeful that my essay will help others understand that image is just that. Changes happen over time in our bodies and they should be celebrated!!!”
I’m not yours to touch.
Poem: Don’t worry about losing your job – you’re a beautiful girl.
A few months ago, I surprised myself with my latent attachment to some patriarchal bullshit.
Poem: Learning that a woman can eclipse the moon.