“"Hate is a strong word," they say.
And they don’t want us to have access to strong words. They want us to use weak words. They want us to say “I’m not comfortable with this”. Then they say “It’s important that you expand your comfort zone”.”—realsocialskills (via stimmyabby)
I don't have a problem w/strippers and if u wanna sell ur body to gross men that's ur choice BUT pole dancing isn't stripping, pole takes ATHLETIC SKILL, im not just shakin my ass n picking up two-dollar bills w/my vagina. just because I pole dance 4 fitness and 2 express myself creatively doesn't mean i want ppl to assume i'm a trashy bimbo w/daddy issues.
Wow! You packed so much in here.
First of all, I’m not selling my body to gross old men.
There’s a few misconceptions in that one sentence alone. You may have noticed I’m home in my bathrobe, alone with my dogs, having finished my gyro, answering this. How did I get my body back?! Did I buy it back? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of selling it? Maybe he GAVE it back to me out of charity when he was done using it, is that it?
So —taking this ask at face value—i’m gonna say your feminist praxis needs a bit of a refresher. Women—all women, and tbh all people as little as I care for men—are living beings with agency and calculating capabilities. We calculate our best options and go from there. We are not tissues to be used, regardless of that fervid and foetid radfem rhetoric. They only regard certain women as people anyway.
And then, if you’re talking to me, you know my stance on pole dancing. You know that western appropriation narratives aside, the reason you want pole dance specifically to be your fitness routine and not mallakhamb (which doesn’t welcome women anyway) or aerialism, is that neither have been sexy and appealing background props setting the standards of female desirability for the past twenty years.
You want to look like a stripper. You want that slumming, dangerous, mysterious aura, you want to walk with confidence like I walk in 8” heels, you want to look like men pay you hundreds of dollars because you’re desirable.
You want to feel edgy and desirable.
That’s why you haven’t run off to cirque du soleil, nor are you calling aerialists tramps.
With that cleared up, let’s go back to your first point:
You do have a problem with strippers. Your problem: you want our aura and desirability and not the stigma, not the danger, not the real threat of losing homes/jobs/family/scholarships/children/careers/futures.
You know that the edginess you crave comes at a price, and your way of dealing with this is NOT to combat stripper stigma, your way of dealing with this is to play up respectability politics for all you’re worth, widening the dichotomy between pure you and filthy us, too busy selling our bodies to dirty old men to develop the skills and grace you so admire.
And to a certain degree this makes sense. It will work for you, sort of. There are people who will buy it, mostly other women who have the same investment in maintaining respectability politics.
Men, babe, are never going to believe you, and they are never going to care.
BUT! There’s another option. Instead of crying when someone asks if you’re a stripper after a certain effortfull routine, sobbing like strippers can’t climb a pole through shoulder mounts backward and then do a drop in a straddle split catching themselves an inch above the floor in 8” heels, instead of reassuring yourself that we’re all mushy muscles barely able to stagger around the pole, making your tricks all the more unique and special—
The next time someone asks if you’re a stripper you could say:
No! But isn’t it amazing that they manage to do this in heels?
No, I’m not a stripper, but I’m flattered you think I have that self confidence!
No, I’m not a stripper but I’ve thought about it, but the stigma scares me.
No, I’m not a stripper but their skills and bravery inspire me and my classmates!
No, I’m not a stripper, and it makes me nervous that you would ask that bc sex work is so loaded and sex workers are murdered and discriminated against, so I get defensive about this but I’m trying to fight it and support strippers in ending sex worker stigma, starting with myself.
No, I’m not a stripper and I get tense about that question because of daddy issues stereotypes but isn’t it so fucked up that strippers (and other women) are the butt of jokes about male pattern abuse? 1 in 3 or 4 women is abused in her life time, usually by a family member or an intimate partner. You know someone who is the butt of that joke, stripper or not. And issues are a valid response to abuse across the spectrum, not just for strippers.
No, I’m not a stripper but I love them and I’m jealous they get to wear fancy outfits.
No, I’m not a stripper because they’re an exploited labour class and i enjoy my pole work best without having to give a percent of my income to a man who doesn’t deserve it.
No, I’m not a stripper, and they don’t pick up dollars with their vaginas either because unlike customers (who stick dollars in their mouths) none of us are interested in getting hepatitis.
So these are some potential answers for you! Hope this helps and thanks for indulging me.
Usually discussed in the context of breakups, the myth of closure is the idea that there’s something called “closure” that would really, really help us get over breakups, and that may even be owed us by the person who broke off the relationship. Sometimes it’s helpful to know why things ended, sometimes not, but regardless, nobody owes you that explanation. Sometimes, being an adult means sitting with the uncomfortable feelings and learning to overcome them by yourself, without the help of the person who caused or triggered them (but with, of course, the help of friends).
A similar thing happens in the context of fuckups and apologies. You fuck up, you feel bad, you apologize, and then you (may) think that you need to be absolved by guilt by the person you hurt. But sometimes people aren’t willing to accept your apology, and that’s okay. Sometimes they accept it, but they’re not interested in discussing the issue any longer. That’s okay too. They don’t owe you any closure. You may need to process your feelings about your fuckup without their help.
im a bad person who thinks bad thoughts like ‘ew what is that girl wearing’ and then remember that im supposed to be positive about all things and then think ‘no she can wear what she wants, fuck what other people say damn girl u look fabulous’ and im just a teeny bit hypocritical tbh
I was always taught by my mother, That the first thought that goes through your mind is what you have been conditioned to think. What you think next defines who you are.
If someone doesn’t “seem” disabled to you, maybe it’s because they’ve been forced to develop a huge and complex system of coping mechanisms in order to try and survive in an ableist world. It’s probably that.
“What was a policeman, if not a civilian with a uniform and a badge? But they tended to use the term [civilian] these days as a way of describing people who were not policemen. It was a dangerous habit: once policemen stopped being civilians, the only other thing they could be was soldiers.”—"Snuff" by Terry Pratchett (via youaristocat)
the reason male comic book fans work themselves into a frenzied rage over “fake geek girls" is because they think they can’t get a girlfriend because of their love for comic books (a.k.a nerdiness). if they accept that geek girls genuinely love comic books, then they’re left with the cold harsh reality that it’s not their nerdiness that makes them unattractive to women, but the fact that they are misogynistic condescending dickbags who need to be avoided AT ALL COSTS
Every dudebro who says these women shouldn’t have taken private nude photos of themselves and then put them on a secure, private server if they didn’t want everyone in the world to see them should have to have every message they have ever sent on OKC dramatically read to their boss, mom, and granny
And all their Snapchat and Chat Roulette pics & vids put on the family holiday card.
mainstream tumblr feminism may have many glaring faults but it has bred an army of teenage girls who understand the common ways that misogyny is reinforced in society and who know that they’re better off loving their fellow woman than fighting with her and that’s actually pretty damn revolutionary
Whenever I write posts about autism, someone will reblog with a comment along the lines of “you have to remember that autism is a spectrum, ranging from extreme cases to mild Aspergers.” Here is a recent example.
It’s true that autism is a spectrum, but it’s not a spectrum of severity from low…
When girls go out wearing tiny, tight, skimpy outfits, I mean they have the choice to wear something else. some thing less provocative, so really girls are asking for it.
If you’re out in public and I see you’re not wearing any protective headgear does that give me the right to smash in your skull with a hammer? I mean you asked for it, since you’re not wearing something to protect your head.
We were grabbing a bite of lunch at a small cafe, in a mall, right across from a booth that sold jewelry and where ears could be pierced for a fee. A mother approaches with a little girl of six or seven years old. The little girl is clearly stating that she doesn’t want her ears pierced, that’s she’s afraid of how much it will hurt, that she doesn’t like earrings much in the first place. Her protests, her clear ‘no’ is simply not heard. The mother and two other women, who work the booth, begin chatting and trying to engage the little girl in picking out a pair of earrings. She has to wear a particular kind when the piercing is first done but she could pick out a fun pair for later.
"I don’t want my ears pierced."
"I don’t want any earrings."
The three adults glance at each other conspiratorially and now the pressure really begins. She will look so nice, all the other girls she knows wear earrings, the pain isn’t bad.
She, the child, sees what’s coming and starts crying. As the adults up the volume so does she, she’s crying and emitting a low wail at the same time. “I DON’T WANT MY EARS PIERCED.”
Her mother leans down and speaks to her, quietly but strongly, the only words we could hear were ‘… embarrassing me.’
We heard, then, two small screams, when the ears were pierced.
Little children learn early and often that ‘no doesn’t mean no.’
Little children learn early that no one will stand with them, even the two old men looking horrified at the events from the cafeteria.
Little girls learn early and often that their will is not their own.
No means no, yeah, right.
Most often, for kids and others without power, ”no means force.”