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#growingupfemale
It is 1973, the U.S. Supreme court ruled in favor of a woman's right to choose. It is 2000 and my mother chooses me. I am born with ten fingers and ten toes and though I remember nothing, she remembers it all. It is 2001 and terrorism reeks havoc and death on the United States and Americans are reinvigorated with a new kind of hatred for foreigners and immigrants. It is 2009 and my parents divorce and I meet a man that makes me afraid to live in my own home. Because he lives there as well. And though, he never touches me he talks to me like I am nothing and he is the sun and there a hiccups of time when I believe him. Things I was not supposed to worry about. It is 2014 and I read about Roe v. Wade for the first time in my 9th grade history textbook, I thought that my generation would not have to worry about these things. That some other brave women had paved the way toward my right to choose what happened to my body. Funny how some of my other peers never had to come to that revelation. Funny how we learn in silence. It is 2015. I work in a bar, behind the scenes flipping burgers and cleaning toilets but everyone still knows my name and some people still throw their arms around me and hold on too tight and touch me in sly inappropriate glimpses It is 2015, and I have learned to grin and bear it and never say a word. Because there are things a woman puts up with for the sake of a job. It is 2015 and in my personal finance class a teacher projects a chart of a wage gap, chalks up the hundreds of thousands of dollars in differential pay to maternal leave. And I wonder if he ever smiled through a man more than three times his age, with a hand on his *** without saying a thing. these are things we were not supposed to worry about It is 2018 and my mother asks me how I sleep at night knowing I litter my facebook timeline with pro-choice propaganda. How I could think that I might know anything about my own body and life and needs because I haven't had children. Because my thoughts, desires, obligations, and dreams, my validity as a **** human being and as a woman means nothing without bearing a child. It is 2018 and I have been using a birth control pill for three months I put on ten pounds I am emotional I hate myself and I cry constantly Sometimes my stomach cramps until I throw-up, but I know that I need to get used to birth control that one day, and probably soon I'll need it. It's 2018, and I've been active for months, I never miss a pill I do everything right my routine is a well-oiled machine I use other methods as back-up even though it isn't cheap I've been using a period tracking app for months and it is never wrong. But soon I'm five days late for my period and awake till 3 am believing that my life is over I'm supposed to go to college in a month, I'm supposed to be responsible How could I be so stupid? How could I be so irresponsible? My period is seven days late, but it comes while I'm working and I bleed through my clothes. I'm a bartender now, so I tie a sweatshirt around my waist until my mother brings me what I need. I want to cry out in relief and I wonder why I suffered in silence, and might have been punished alone even though my crimes were aided and abetted. It is 2019 and 19 states are pushing new intrusive abortion restrictions and "heartbeat bills" and women protest in blood red robes and white bonnets that hide their faces and their person-hoods that are being degraded in favor of the person-hood of a pea. It is 2019, and though it is not the first time, I feel scared to be a woman. These are the things we were not supposed to worry about.
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 10:40 PM UTC
The things we were not supposed to worry about.
It is 1973, the U.S. Supreme court ruled in favor of a woman's right to choose. It is 2000 and my mother chooses me. I am born with ten fingers and ten toes and though I remember nothing, she remembers it all. It is 2001 and terrorism reeks havoc and death on the United States and Americans are reinvigorated with a new kind of hatred for foreigners and immigrants. It is 2009 and my parents divorce and I meet a man that makes me afraid to live in my own home. Because he lives there as well. And though, he never touches me he talks to me like I am nothing and he is the sun and there a hiccups of time when I believe him. Things I was not supposed to worry about. It is 2014 and I read about Roe v. Wade for the first time in my 9th grade history textbook, I thought that my generation would not have to worry about these things. That some other brave women had paved the way toward my right to choose what happened to my body. Funny how some of my other peers never had to come to that revelation. Funny how we learn in silence. It is 2015. I work in a bar, behind the scenes flipping burgers and cleaning toilets but everyone still knows my name and some people still throw their arms around me and hold on too tight and touch me in sly inappropriate glimpses It is 2015, and I have learned to grin and bear it and never say a word. Because there are things a woman puts up with for the sake of a job. It is 2015 and in my personal finance class a teacher projects a chart of a wage gap, chalks up the hundreds of thousands of dollars in differential pay to maternal leave. And I wonder if he ever smiled through a man more than three times his age, with a hand on his *** without saying a thing. these are things we were not supposed to worry about It is 2018 and my mother asks me how I sleep at night knowing I litter my facebook timeline with pro-choice propaganda. How I could think that I might know anything about my own body and life and needs because I haven't had children. Because my thoughts, desires, obligations, and dreams, my validity as a **** human being and as a woman means nothing without bearing a child. It is 2018 and I have been using a birth control pill for three months I put on ten pounds I am emotional I hate myself and I cry constantly Sometimes my stomach cramps until I throw-up, but I know that I need to get used to birth control that one day, and probably soon I'll need it. It's 2018, and I've been active for months, I never miss a pill I do everything right my routine is a well-oiled machine I use other methods as back-up even though it isn't cheap I've been using a period tracking app for months and it is never wrong. But soon I'm five days late for my period and awake till 3 am believing that my life is over I'm supposed to go to college in a month, I'm supposed to be responsible How could I be so stupid? How could I be so irresponsible? My period is seven days late, but it comes while I'm working and I bleed through my clothes. I'm a bartender now, so I tie a sweatshirt around my waist until my mother brings me what I need. I want to cry out in relief and I wonder why I suffered in silence, and might have been punished alone even though my crimes were aided and abetted. It is 2019 and 19 states are pushing new intrusive abortion restrictions and "heartbeat bills" and women protest in blood red robes and white bonnets that hide their faces and their person-hoods that are being degraded in favor of the person-hood of a pea. It is 2019, and though it is not the first time, I feel scared to be a woman. These are the things we were not supposed to worry about.
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Rules to being a lady As told by the women in my life 1.Don't put your elbows on the table 2.Don't chew with your mouth open 3.Let the men get the doors 4.Say please and thank you 5.Don't speak out of turn 6.The oldest man goes first in the house(for anything) 7.Clean the house 8.Lay out his clothes 9.Cook his meals 10.Be a ***** if you need to be but only if it doesn't make him feel uncomfortable Rules to being me As told by me 1. Listen to how you feel 2.If it feels right then do it 3.If it doesn't then don't
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Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
Rules to...