I call it cunt. I’ve reclaimed it, “cunt”. I really like it. “Cunt.” Listen to it. “Cunt.” C C. Ca Ca. Cavern,
cackle, clit, cute, come-closed c-closed inside, inside ca-then u-then cu-then curvy, inviting sharkskin u-
uniform, under, up, urge, ugh, ugh, u –…
As the end of the world approaches I want to get something off of my chest. So that I may be able to walk through 2013 without the fear that those I surround myself will find out…
That on December 4th 2011, in Quito Ecuador, I was sexually assaulted.
I want to thank Phelicia Magnusson specifically for inspiring me to post this. As I mentioned to her, what I thought to be the root for my emotional instability this week (the year anniversary of my assault) she responded,
"A year huh… Calls for a celebration I think. You’re strong, you made it through and your life is yours to keep living."
I am only one out of billions of womyn who walk through life strong, and determined to live HER life free of depression, guilt, and shame from her past.
If you or someone you know has experienced sexual assault, or any form of trauma there is only one thing I can share with you. The process of healing is never ending. It’s not just an exploration for self; it is a process of reclaiming and reinventing that self.
2011 was a time of PAIN, 2012 was full of REGRET, 2013 is dedicated to REBIRTH
That’s easier said than done.
But that was then and this is now.
Am I damaged because I have too much faith in others? Or do people think they can take advantage of me because I have forgotten my own worth?
|—||Yang erche namu (Mosuo woman)|
|—||Malcolm X (via room42)|
HAHAHA Oh goodness…
Hipster racism poetry, on gentrification, ethnic fashion, “I’m friends with black people” and such
This is absolutely DEAD ON! And these womyn have got it DOWN! WORK!