The Policing of Women and Sexuality: Legalize Sexwork

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The Policing of Women and Sexuality: Legalize Sexwork
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Gonna start this one off strong, because I spent the last ~6 weeks finally seeing all my friends. Nature is healing. (Everywhere except Japan, at least–because are US citizens aware of the rhetoric around the Olympic games and coronavirus going on in Japan? Or the rest of the world? Oh wait. I forgot we blatantly don’t give a shit what happens to the entirety of their population’s health. How could we…when we don’t even care about our own?
My bad.)

The educated hoes are vaccinated and emerging from our coronavirus slumbers of hibernation to frolic in the sunshine, bare our asses in thong bikini bottoms, and freshen up the tan on all of our cheeks and I am leading the charge.

One of my favorite people, we’ll call him “Citroni” asked me “do you just get angry and write?”
and like… fuck yes I do.

Some people get angry and murder.
Or ignore their feelings for years then snap and have mental breakdowns that harm others. 

…I think I’m doing well with using writing and art as an outlet. 

Citroni also tells me that I am a “walking contradiction” and I probably should not take as much pride in that as I do. (Keep ya on your toes)

The difference between the support I receive from my friendships and those I get from my family, is exemplified by the following: My mom was worried about “what will your friends think [of my blog]” and my friends literally asked if I’d ever seen Lucifer (I had not but I am now starting it), recommended that I watch The Sweetest Thing, and Citroni showed me “It’s Always Sunny”, because there was a recurring theme in our group of 3-4 men that I’d regularly go out with that I reminded them of “Dee” (solely because she was the only woman… I WAS offended initially). He explained the dynamic between her and her husband, apparently one of the main writers on the show, and why the vulgarity and honesty of her character was so groundbreaking.

This blog and “Zeda Grace” is the Sasha Fierce to my Beyoncé and they love that for me.

They also say that “I would’ve thrived as a housewife in the early 1900’s when I could just exist within the house and take comfort in the knowledge that I couldn’t do anything else.” So I wouldn’t feel so obligated to learn and do EVERYTHING, “just because I can”.

It’s not that I don’t want to “work”, either. It’s that I don’t want to work on things that don’t benefit society, disproportionately allow others to profit off of me, are purposefully indulging unhealthy environments and contributing to stress and reduced longevity or quality of life in a for profit healthcare system, and I just feel “safest” at home. PTSD is a bitch and I’m aware of the brevity and relativity of time. Being able to control my environment brings me so much mental peace.

Is it possible that my Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is plateaued at step 2? Security and safety? Probably.

Yzma was right.
I should’ve thought about the difficulties of life before I became a peasant.

I would love to not be so financially insecure too (I’m a progressive gal–I’ll let my husband work after marriage) and rent is expensive. 

Thus, it should come as absolutely no surprise that I am very PRO sexwork. 

I had a wonderful former professional dominatrix who came across my instagram and has offered to speak to me. She is a regular lecturer for an “ethics in therapy” class at Appalachian State, and conducts panels on sexual intimacy and healthy communication within BDSM. Reach out to me if there’s any particular topics, questions, or situations you would like me to relay to her as we gear up for that. So for her, this episode will be dedicated to the Red River Women’s Clinic, based in Fargo, North Dakota, which offers comprehensive women’s health and is working to lobby against all of the challenges to Roe Versus Wade in the form of GOP sponsored abortion bills all over the country. You can donate directly to their campaign at: http://www.redriverwomensclinic.com

For now, this episode will just be me speaking from personal experience into the economic proposition of “marriage” in the USA specifically, what dating looks like in your 20’s, and the ridiculously outdated illegality of sexwork. 

Marriage is an economic proposition for a woman. I don’t know how many times Amy March (Florence Pugh) has to heartbreakingly acknowledge to Laurie (Timothée Chalamet) in Little Women (2019) that:

“Even if I had my own money, which I don’t, it would belong to my husband the minute we were married. If we had children they would belong to him, not me. They would be his property. So don’t sit there and tell me that marriage isn’t an economic proposition, because it is. It may not be for you, but it most certainly is for me.” 

There is no difference in “marriage”, “dating”, and “sexwork”, apart from the length of the expected contract in the United States and the feasibility to exit said contract.

Not in a country where quality childcare is inaccessible and unaffordable, public schools continue to be devalued and underfunded, there is no guaranteed paid parental leave, healthcare is elitist and inaccessible for many, we barely cracked the top 50 (holding solid at 49th) for economic gender equality globally, and women’s rights are constantly being threatened by religious zealots masquerading as politicians.

My personal recommendation would be making sexwork and pornography created or used with the intent for distribution illegal under the age of 25. Sexworkers would not be allowed to seek child support (should they get pregnant and decide to keep the child, which would hopefully be against the terms of the contract to begin with), would have to register with and get regular STD testing verified through health departments, have a verifiable way to conduct background checks for prospective clients, and anyone under the age of 25 would not be allowed on the physical premises, much like how casinos and stripclubs are allowed to bar anyone from location. 

Why 25?
Because the frontal lobe responsible for “judgment” and decision making is reportedly fully developed by then. 

We also shouldn’t universally punish teenagers and young people from taking photos of themselves, though, for the intent of intimacy between themselves and another. A widespread assumption of that will only serve to punish humans who do so, whether the reasoning being they are lacking respect and acknowledgment in other forms of their lives (and further punishing those has been shown to psychologically never be beneficial), or they actually LIKE and EMBRACE their body and it will make young humans afraid of their bodies and any resemblance to sexual behavior in general because it is misconstrued as “taboo” versus “healthy, natural human behavior”. Like Hunter Schafer mentions in Euphoria, nudes are sexual currency in the age of cell phones. Everyone is going to do it. Stop sending children to juvie for it, okay? 

How about we strengthen those revenge porn laws so men can stop texting them in group chats with no repercussions?

The current porn industry already exploits children, particularly young girls coming from largely abusive homes with low socioeconomic status in a way that should be criminal. 

The “barely legal” promotions. “Teen” in the name to appeal to the murkiness and destruction of innocence, naivety, and youth. Anyone can upload apparently any video with no identification required? “Amateur” videos where it’s DAMN clear the “piece de resistance” was unaware they were being filmed (they’re definitely not THAT good of an actress).

Mia Khalifa has scenes that made production companies billions of dollars and herself only $1000-1500 a scene. She has millions of views, death threats from ISIS, and only ~$10,000 total to have “benefitted”. 

Belle Knox had to leave Duke temporarily because of harassment over her revealed porn star status, which she only did to pay for that very same, ivy league education. (An actual human I know dated her, as he knew her in high school, and thankfully he didn’t disgustingly objectify her like his “brothers” did.)

August Ames hung herself after a twitter debate around cyberbullying and homophobia. Las Vegas has TUNNELS where former porn stars live amongst the transient population, because THAT community is more accepting, healthier, and supportive for their social structure. The cover of Blink-182’s “Enema of the State” album (aka: that famous sexy nurse) went to prison in 2008 for tax evasion. Meanwhile it’s legal for billionaires and giant corporations to not pay any taxes but benefit from public space. The average life expectancy of a porn star is ~31 years–down over the past decade from 38 years. 

Taylor Swift forewarned everyone on the dangers of contract negotiation.
Of the exploitation of young, naive women.  

Athletes can renegotiate all the time, including midseason, yet the second women do it, they’re labeled as “greedy” and “manipulative” (Still not over the tragic demise of the friendship between the Barstool Sports podcast’s Call Her Daddy OG hosts.)

Yet women at 18 are allowed to make a decision which may warrant apparently legal death threats, impacts their entire life in ways they literally cannot imagine, and we just allow it, as long as it makes the men in control money.

Women in the porn industry are often, much like the film & entertainment industry, forced or encouraged to consume pills, drink alcohol, smoke substances of many kinds, and many even “choose” to do so because it dulls the pain, lowers the inhibitions, and they don’t or can’t “have an opinion” on their rights because they may never have been taught that boundaries are okay in the first place.

Women all over this country, for decades, are and have been murdered and discarded haphazardly, sometimes whole, sometimes in pieces, because sexwork as a profession, despite rampant sexual violence as is, has been looked down upon in the same way that your high school teachers may have condemned working as a garbage collector–even if that position’s union and wages were significantly better.

Fraternities at UNC hire strippers who pick up dollar bills off the floor with the labial lips of their vaginas, but more than 4 women aren’t allowed to sign onto the same lease because of the “brothel” rule and only sororities are required to have a “house mom”. 

Before you say “not all men”, please remind yourselves that at University of Florida there is a fraternity that does “biker bash”, has girls, some of whom are 18 and left home for the first time for college, ride on the back of men’s scooters, dressed in motorcycle gear, and when they get to the fraternity, the walls of every surface and room are COVERED in porn. Old 80’s porn is blasted on every television, computer screen, projector. Women have to ditch their tops and walk around in leather pants and bras, and will be kicked out of their sorority if a photo of them, even in the background, leaks.

But the school looks the other way because “boys will be boys” and there is wealth involved, yet sororities will punish women for attending a party formally hosted by the same fraternities they set up mixers with.

I would TOTALLY have gone to and LOVED that party, by the way. I’m not discrediting the party.

I literally showed up to the “Tide Slide” event at a different fraternity with 10 cans of four loko like some kind of chaos fairy, and spent the afternoon writhing around with my girl friends on a humongous slip and slide coated in soapy bubbles in just my bikini, I’m HERE for the parties. I just think the sexist standards and legislation are annoying as fuck.

Nevermind the fact that at every university and every woman I’ve ever talked with, widespread knowledge of which fraternities are full of rapists is shared openly. (If there’s that many men, especially young, in-the-process-of-becoming-educated-but-not-yet men in one place, for the record, they all have rapists…you just might not know it yet. It’s basic statistics.) There are whispers exchanged on the public buses. Warnings heeded in group chats. Which fraternities “QB sneak” (quarter bar of xanax in the drink) to roofie women, including in their “jungle juice” and which individuals within to be mindful of. Which men have coked out temper tantrums. Which have STDs or STIs or any combination of letters that may affect your (sexual) health. 

RIP to the UNC basketball team in ~2013 when Yik Yak was still a thing, because the identity of which player (who prematurely left for the NBA) supposedly having R. Kelly style unprotected sex with half the school, despite a virulent and new herpes infection, was exposed.

…No shame to STDs, either, but we ALSO have outdated legislation on that which can’t and don’t protect anyone or require honest disclosure to any extent.

If you’re mature, an adult, and any decent kind of person, just fucking talk like humans about safe sex and protection and whatever you may or may not have, the medications available, etc. LEARN TO COMMUNICATE. You will NEVER build a healthy, happy, or well founded relationship on deceit of any kind. I am a fucking nationally certified epidemiologist these things are SO COMMON and would be WAY LESS COMMON or “problematic” if we just fucking TALKED ABOUT HEALTH AND HAD WIDESPREAD ACCESS TO HEALTH WITHOUT A RELIGIOUS OVERTONE.

God forbid we take the fucking profits away from private drug manufacturing and pushing and allow government test facilities, or government created and regulated chemical manufacturing and research in general to enable healthier and safer environments because people are curious. 

Curiosity is normal human behavior.
Sexuality is normal human behavior.

How about we make it easier and safer and accessible to experiment and try things safely, in an EDUCATED manner, because people are going to do it anyway, without unwittingly condemning unsuspecting, naive victims from the negative repercussions and threats to their professional lives and personal safety for years just for speaking up? 

How about we also stop treating children like collective property instead of the reality–that they will and can be their own soul and person, and not condemn them to the norms, rules, and regulations of excessively strict, controlling households and societies? It’s ridiculous that we even endorse or, at the very least, refuse to condemn abusive, manipulative, domineering parenting methods because of “tradition”, yet then penalize and punish those who weren’t brought up “right” (in conformity) despite being a country sooooo prideful of its “freedoms”. 

(14:14)

How about we remove the guilt associated with some of these behaviors so we create an environment where people can seek help, embrace honesty, and reduce the limitations of the ego and almost exclusively women aren’t thought to be “less than” for engaging in such acts?

Where people can work towards accountability and public acceptance with honesty, instead of privately hiding their actions because “it’s not about what’s true, it’s about what you can prove in court”? (A large issue we’ve seen arise in hit-and-run cases, as it can be less damaging to your driving record and insurance than a DUI.)

In public health, we still use outdated rhetoric on “high risk” behaviors for classification of men who have sex with men, or women who have sex with men who have sex with men, as means of publishing statistical data, yet that same “riskiness” of behavior is only relevant if the person’s partners aren’t mutually practicing safe sex and monogamy isn’t followed.

We associate the premise of “control” with “education”, “awareness”, and “safety”, but only focus on the theme of “control” with reference to legislation.

As far as concerns overlapping drug trafficking with sexwork–the opioid crisis is a huge issue in the area I’m from. 

The guy I “lost” my virginity to, my brother’s best friend growing up, died of an overdose in August of 2020. Thankfully, I have not had random ghostly sex dreams but we did used to fuck all over my high school when my father disbarred him from my house for “dishonoring” me, so there was a bit of a concern for that possibility. Same father my mom had to lie to in order to get me on birth control, mind you, and who lost HIS virginity to a sexworker. Same father who gave my older brother stacks of pornographic magazines and an entire floor of the house. Same father who would purposefully not announce himself and walk into the movie room in the basement when my boyfriends were over, despite knowing I was sexually active with them??

My friend, Amanda, speaks on my podcast about sex on E pills and seizures from substance use, in high school.

My sister’s friend from high school, a marine, who recently reached out to me via IG, told me his little brother was addicted to heroin before he even left high school, when he was a SOPHOMORE, because of teenage parties in the rural country, and everyone knew the distributors, but the local community wouldn’t acknowledge the issues surrounding addiction and lack of mental healthcare for an area dominated by military bases, and children were punished through education for behavior indicating these issues instead of being granted education, potential, and hope in environments that offered an alternative. Really just want to give that guy a shoutout, too, because his brother has been sober over the last 2 years and that is one of the hardest things to overcome. I wish him nothing but the best in his Air Force career. Really, really proud and thankful that my work resonated with his brother, and that he reached out to me as a result. Super cool move on his part and I’m very grateful for his transparency with me, himself, and whatever direction he continues to lead others in. 

We got one DARE class in 5th grade then a “refresher” on sex ed but never any classes that framed “health” in relation to science. Or even medicine. Never any classes that formally taught any kind of “physical health” and education outside of how to be an athlete and what the rules of formal sports are. Never any classes that actually conveyed what “science” is out of purely introductory biology and chemistry.

Good Charlotte was right, my high school was more like a jail cell, a penitentiary.
Public and formal education doesn’t HAVE to be like that, though.

Mina actually told me that drug use was common knowledge in her highschool, (because, Florida) and she always knew she would do cocaine, but that there was a common sentiment that “you were fine if you waited until college.” 

Cocaine was actually more common than marijuana at UF, so this doesn’t surprise me. After knowledge of the realities that everyone does cocaine as an adult, particularly those in higher professional programs or in the Wall Street financial sector of employment, the way we treat addiction and condemn substance use is so classist that it should be embarrassing in our community mentalities. 

With the biochemistry background, all I have to say is what the fuck are we doing with the current culture and treatment towards drugs? Ya’ll DO realize the similarities between prescription medications and “black market” drugs are fucking idiotically overlapping, right? And the potential for abuse or misuse is just as strong? If not more, because people will consume alcohol with prescriptions without thinking twice (Tiger Woods, whats up) because it’s “safe” since it has a white label with a doctor’s name on that orange bottle. 

One of my best friends from undergrad roofied herself because she didn’t realize her new prescription meds would interact with the one drink of alcohol so strongly that she’d physically pass out. 

I arguably “roofied” myself in my gap year. I had NO clue (please don’t laugh, this is just how naive I am/was) that Robitussin, the cough syrup, will do that to a gal. (Shoulda looked it up after the “Jumpman” lyrics from Drake.) Just to further embarrass myself, I had a lingering cough and took some prior to going to La Rez and Pantana Bob’s at UNC in my gap year. Did NOT know that there is a DELAYED effect. Or that over the counter meds negatively and seriously interact with certain substances, particularly one as common as alcohol, to begin with. 

Had 1 drink, waited a bit, felt completely fine.

Had a second drink, still felt fine, arguably more “sober” than I normally did at this point.

Ended up bringing a guy from the soccer team, who went on to play for FC Dallas, home that night and… this poor man. I went from 60-to-zero with about ten seconds left of the cab ride. I remember giving him head (consensually) and him cumming very quickly (not a surprise, as I’ve been known to suck a soul out through a man’s cocks, not unlike the dementors in Harry Potter). I’m also pretty sure I worried him because I had essentially no reaction to him cumming other than slurping that down with the good work ethic for completing jobs that the overachiever in me is capable of. Even that memory is blurry, though, as I started to get pretty out of it, which means this same story could be HORRIFIC from his point of view, 

And then magically it was the next morning, because I don’t remember anything until I woke up passed out in my roommate’s room, with the door to her room locked (by me), and he was just gone. My roommate was not home–she was sleeping over with one of his teammates (despite dating the guy she is now married to at the time). Also 99% sure I went into her room, locked the door, and passed the fuck out. The poor guy left at some point and I have never spoken to him since, so I literally have no idea what happened and while it’s not a great feeling, it IS amusing. 

Let’s just appreciate that from his perspective, this blonde witch who he’s seen once COATED in blood (because I used to get EXPLOSIVE nosebleeds from Accutane, and occasionally they’d come on when I was running in a sports bra and spandex around Chapel Hill and I’d only have my hands to stop it) just took him home, gave him head, then disappeared. Just never came back to my room, IF we were even in my room to begin with (from his perspective).

That experience is also why I think I got drugged at STORY, because it’s one of only a handful of times where my memory goes from standardly creepily exceptional, to essentially nonexistent. 

Maybe the commonality of discussion around these topics is why Mina has a typically “healthier” outlook on substance use in general? She’s done acid exactly one time, and had an amazing experience, so she doesn’t feel the need to do it again. She’s able to go through “cleanses” and completely reduce her alcohol intake to zero periodically just to recenter herself mentally and physically, and this is a gal that once won Senior bar golf with her boyfriend (which takes a fucking TANK of a functional alcoholic to do.)

Florida does a lot of shit wrong, but it seems between my friends who grew up there, there was less consensus on the “shame” of certain behavior. The human body isn’t so ostracized or taboo because women are barely clothed YEAR ROUND, so men don’t assume it’s an “open invitation”. Women don’t grow up thinking their shoulders and body are risqué and physically seeing it is inherently sexualized. Drug use is common and “normalized” enough, with the bricks of cocaine washing up on the beaches every hurricane, that it’s only “problematic” if it impacts your functioning “healthily” in society. (Even though I’d like to remind everybody that we don’t actually have a healthily functioning society in any way.) You’re allowed to do and consume as much as you want, so long as you’re still making money, or working a long term career oriented job, but even then your necessity for an escape from reality isn’t addressed in a way to ask WHY you need to escape reality. 

I’m not one to shame behavior, either– you just can’t excuse or denounce it universally when you’re just as guilty. You can’t control others’ reactions to your behavior and you have to accept that it may have negatively affected them.

Had a conversation recently with an old friend from home, who my mom taught in highschool and who went on to NC State to play NCAA D1 football. I once visited him at school just to be a friendly face, see how he was doing, and he later indicated that he “could have had me if he wanted.” As someone who speaks very openly about sexuality (again, normal human behavior) but is also VERY private and particular with sexual intimacy, I was so offended. I brought it up recently because he posted on instagram about “fake girls wanting a real man” (in reference to women who get their nails, hair, boobs, ass, etc. done) and I messaged him about how maybe he should consider and educate himself on why the beauty industry makes women feel like they need to do “all of that” (which is fire if it’s for your own style, but most of it is tailored to appealing sexually to men) and how hypocritical it was for someone who spends hours in the gym or staring in a mirror to say that. Particularly when he has objectified me in the past. He got a bit butthurt, let me know he used to do drugs and wasn’t that person anymore, but then I reminded him he is still being excessively critical of women instead of acknowledging the system in place that encourages women to feel the “need” to do things like that (even making it financially profitable, since, again, dating, marriage, and childrearing is an economic proposition for most women) and how that same system is why he had to overcome drug use himself, instead of having social support. Or why he’s still “ashamed” of that time in his life and wants to “move on”, versus acknowledging how it affected me, learning from it, and being able to speak to his experiences maturely, openly, and honestly. The conversation ultimately ended well, as I mentioned he is a Leo and while he acts impulsively and passionately, he can’t be universally critical of all women, publicly, and not expect me to call out his prior behavior and actions when that was MY experience with him. 

You simply can’t blame others when your (prior) actions around them paint a different picture for who you are than who you believe you are or who you want to be. 

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Change your behavior instead of blaming the other person for pointing out the consistencies year after year, interaction after interaction, when that’s all that THEIR interactions with you involve.

(Chloe from MTV’s Siesta Key could maybe remind herself of this so she doesn’t blame others who point it out, are suspicious, and let her know that you have to EARN trust and respect. You won’t just be granted it just because YOU decided that’s who you are “now”.)

Or just do what a lot of people do when confrontation arises and ignore it, convincing yourself the person acknowledging it is the problem instead of the actions (and long sequence of actions) that they had to be responsible for, because you weren’t.

I know stories of future politician’s sons sucking dick for cocaine (no shame with reference to either of these acts, either, just maybe don’t support the GOP if that’s the case) who still can’t understand the only difference in them doing this and someone from their hometown is that their social class is not being looked down upon for that behavior. Because of who their parents and family are.

I fucked a guy who CREATED HIS OWN DMT prior to hooking up (I bet he loves Joe Rogan) who is now in medical school. Ya girl has a biochemistry degree from a top 5 public university, so because he was well educated, white, and in a fraternity, this was fine. I walk into a room and see a beautiful set up of Erlenmeyer flasks, distillation techniques? The nostalgia. Brings me right back to orgo lab when my lab partner was so introverted and terrified of me, it took him over 2 months for him to actually speak. (I’ve always been aware of my effect on men.)

I actually think, had I smoked weed a little sooner, I would’ve done better in my biochem classes because it helps me visualize and genuinely understand the molecular basis for the interactions better. I can view the chemical reactions as art, my mind creating mental visuals of the text and photographs in a way that better helps me adjust for the way I learn with ADHD.

My grander point is that we view criminality differently based on the socioeconomic status and location it is occurring in and when we’re creating legislation, we really can’t do this. We also shouldn’t have such a lack of progressive federal reform that we have thousands of people still incarcerated for nonviolent marijuana offenses while Wall Streeters hold stock in those, now legal, industries. We also shouldn’t require you to leave your state in order to access a natural, herbal remedy you can grow yourself that is less dangerous and addictive than the federally legal drugs that treat the same symptoms.

Drugs and sex work have always overlapped in the eyes of the US government. 

I’m sure that would still continue with legalization, to some degree, though I currently can’t understand why certain stripclubs are required to NOT sell alcohol if full nudity is involved, and other states have BYOB laws. Saw a reddit comment recently that actually specified, with corporate growth in the USA, the main difference in townships is the nuance towards sex work, so if you REALLY want to experience the differences in states rights, to go to strip clubs in every town you visit. I’ll have to remember that.

 Penalties for drug and rape trafficking and violence towards women should be undeniably severe enough to deter such behavior–including involving castration or removal of reproductive and sexual abilities permanently for those who continue to do so. We have to make comprehensive sexual education the norm for that to be relevant, though, and not make your knowledge of this within a nation so subjective around the basis of outdated bullshit Republican ideologies that affect everyone within the state, but especially women, and negatively impact those who seek help. And if you think it is  “insane” to require forced vasectomies or medical castration, yet also will women, or children, to carry their rapist’s DNA to term, then you are protecting the abusers and not the victims. You don’t actually endorse bodily autonomy or public safety. 

One of my friends had her family stalked by an exotic dancer’s child who sought out her biological dad’s acknowledgement. (Her father had fucked a stripper, basically.) The terror and horror a teenage girl had to go through–including being worried about being targeted through potential gun violence over a decision her FATHER made YEARS ago is disgusting. And all that kid wanted was to find out why he was discarded.

If sexwork was legal, this could’ve easily been avoided through the terms of the contract. Children won’t grow up thinking they aren’t wanted, or were a property investment to “Secure the bag” (I’m looking at you–MTV’s Siesta Key subreddit because why the FUCK do you FLAUNT Alyssa for this? That is the grossest rhetoric in all.) There would be foundations created to financially support sexworkers who decided to keep the children if a tryst did result in pregnancy. Men wouldn’t be able to complain about women “tricking” them into the financial obligation of child support, all while simultaneously thinking buying a gal a $5 drink at a college bar of watered down vodka entitles you to sex and then not understanding the repercussions of casual sex.

Acting like it is solely the woman’s responsibility to have birth control while making women’s health second choice, inaccessible, expensive, and a burden to access or need accommodations for.

We should be paying anyone under the age of 30 to NOT have children. Yes, just like welfare. An incentive for NOT being baby machines (Gilead would NEVER.) And yes, women with multiple children on welfare should be required to undergo birth control/ medical procedures but we should also address worker’s rights and a living wage while we’re at it. And maybe require forced sterilization for men who impregnate multiple women without having the economic means of providing for potential children so they stop fucking breeding and acting like their genetics are a gift to the world. (We should also look into the regulations surrounding sperm and egg donation while we’re at it, because there is a lot of misdirection around the human breeding programs in the USA with less direction than the animal breeding programs governed by the USDA.)

As a reminder, when Colorado introduced IUD insertion for teenage girls without requiring parental consent, teen pregnancy dropped significantly.

Yet, last week the valedictorian of a Texas high school scrapped her graduation speech in favor of addressing the “heart beat bill” effectively banning abortion for all women in Texas.

 There were about 9 girls in my graduating class who, through religious indoctrination, felt it was their duty to carry those children to term. They were seen to have less potential for the decades of life they had left than an unborn mass of cells was seen. Another life became a “savior” for them–which MAY very well be true, but knowing the lack of access to healthcare and religious overtones in the area I grew up in is just sad. Time and time again, women become the burdens of society’s inability to account for them. They are told their lives are worthless, yet should revolve around bringing forth more life…a life that may actually “do” something… and that is the sole and main purpose intended for them. Even if you love your children, and you needed them, this is NOT fair in the modern age (nor was it fair ever). We are condemning women, teenage girls, children, to the misgivings and misdirection of their parents, claiming them to not be responsible enough to make their own decisions yet then bestowing upon them a nightmarish gift in that they should be responsible for the decisions and livelihood of another’s life.

And then we punish them when they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing.

When none of us know what the fuck we’re doing.

One of my friends didn’t know or show that she was pregnant until 4-5 months along and she is over 30 years old. We kayaked ten miles with her now small child just growing from a mass of cells in her uterus. She had a day or two of morning sickness, which she attributed to drinking, and frequently missed periods as is, so she literally DID NOT KNOW or have any indication she was pregnant. Thankfully, her and her boyfriend have been together for almost a decade now, so they were in a position where this wasn’t completely detrimental to their mutual wellbeing. And that child is being brought up in one of the most loving homes I’ve seen, with parents committed and cognizant of breaking the cycles they were subjected to.

A friend of mine has driven her best friend to the abortion clinic and paid for her abortion while they were both high schoolers in North Carolina. Actions she could be legally prosecuted for in the state of Texas, now. The same abortion clinic who protestors would park in my apartment complex’s lot, only to walk over and harass individuals seeking medical care. Could you imagine how quickly this would be reduced if those same protestors were outside condemning former president Donald Trump’s use of stem cell research as therapeutic treatment for coronavirus instead of holding candlelight vigils for his recovery and eagerly awaiting his decrepit parade of virulent exposure in armored vehicles because he got “bored” of his lavish hospital suite? This wouldn’t even have to be a discussion.

(33:37)

We shouldn’t have to exhaust resources and keep women in cycles of debt and violence because the law doesn’t protect them in any way and people are allowed to ignorantly and purposefully impose their spiritual idiocy onto others.

Women aren’t even taught or knowledgeable about our own bodies because they are framed as taboo and learning about them is met with negative connotation (in part because it exacerbates the reality of just how poor treatment of women in the USA is). Did you know that women who agree to allow medical students to partake in their care, in MANY states, are also (unknowingly) agreeing to unnecessary invasive procedures WHILE UNDER ANESTHESIA. And women, especially black women, weren’t given anesthesia for many procedures historically. Children even commonly weren’t numbed for suturing, in part because we just assumed they would “forget” or never realize this was NOT APPROPRIATE. This would NEVER be the case for how we treat fully grown, educated men.

 But women’s health is secondary to “health”. 

Women’s, sexual, reproductive, mental health is ultimately just “health”. And WHY would a country without universal healthcare want to appropriately frame “health” in any context if it requires diminished profit margins for shit “leaders” in our economy? We would NEVER sit there and tell people they’ve reached “peak physical health” and can just “stop” devoting time to work on it. That they shouldn’t prioritize it. That there isn’t nutrition, stretching, sleep, or SOMETHING they can improve upon even if they physically feel okay. 

We frame panic attacks and anxiety so negatively, so preventable, yet wouldn’t dare accuse someone who suffered an aneurysm or cardiac event from not “having done all they could”, ultimately just by assuming there are some things “out of your hands” and others “within your control”. Even though the very nature of why many people seek access for mental health is because others are imposing unhealthy behavior onto them that is beyond their control.

As long as it’s the government, we encourage and allow it to continue, though?

We don’t teach comprehensive health, not just comprehensive sexual health, because we keep individuals subservient to outdated conservative norms by not.

My friends and I were remarking on whether our skeletons are STILL changing–because we recently had to size up our clothes, yet our actual bodies haven’t really changed so much as our hips are getting wider. The only reason we even knew was because of 6 years of advanced schooling in a health degree and Mina sews her own clothes, so she measures herself, and could confirm that her hips are skeletally wider. But we shove 26 year olds with disordered eating on television screens to play high schoolers and expect the adolescents to connect that these are unrealistic beauty standards. We tax the shit out of feminine care products or just add it to the unreasonably marked up costs for women’s marketing, clothing, healthcare in general.

And even still, largely white men elected to Republican governments are allowed to impact legislation in a way that negatively affects women, all of the women, who may have been born into or live in the state they govern despite not believing their idiocy, all while simultaneously going to war on the basis of other culture’s treatment towards women. The hypocrisy is surreal. It’s actually maddening. It should not be allowed.

Leadership should be fucking better than that.

Kanye West wrote a song about women being nothing but gold diggers then married a woman who paid off $53 million in debt for him–money she made resulting from the legal nuances of largely pornographic work. Is it any different because she was dating the man in the video at the time?

Projection is a powerful bitch.

Karma is a bigger one.

(Can Kris Jenner be everyone’s momager, please?)

I went to the University of Florida for graduate school. I can tell you right now the “sugar baby”  lifestyle is huge, and common. ESPECIALLY amongst sorority women. The “cheap” end is $100-500 per hour of their time, many of which doesn’t involve or include sex at all. (I have a friend who is actually a married lesbian and she would go meet old white men in Orlando at the Cheesecake Factory and get $1000-1500 just to meet for dinner.) #RedistributeThatWealthGirllllllll

If your children are fucking men for hotel room spots or the potential for away and date weekends through their fraternities, that’s basically sexwork. (And all of your children are doing it.)

My best friend was invited to a fraternity formal in undergrad and the guy was disappointed that she was a virgin and LITERALLY SAID, “well, there goes my weekend.” This guy didn’t know her at all, he’d merely played a few games of beer pong against us, so I’m not sure why he thought she should inherently want to fuck him without knowing anything about him, but he still felt entitled to sex? (He was a “nice” guy too because he didn’t uninvite her or sexually coerce her.)

Had another gal friend get flown out to Israel to visit a guy she was talking to there, who paid for half her plane ticket. Sexwork. 

(38:18)

Dating is the premise to marriage and marriage is undeniably an economic proposition in the United States. With that being the case, how can we dare to condemn sex work?

Drake said if he drops $10k on a gal to not think anything of it and I’m just tryna find a man to buy me the new Joah Brown and Alo Yoga clothing collections.

All we do is make life more difficult for women by pretending like sexwork isn’t or shouldn’t be legal.

At age 18, I was supposed to be tasked with escorting an Australian diplomat’s 26 year old son around Washington, D.C. for a weekend. Because I wasn’t getting paid, I was expected to be thankful for “the opportunity”. I refused to do so, because I found it creepy that a 26 year old would ever want to hang out with an 18 year old, however “innocently” and couldn’t fathom what I would be able to talk about. I would rather go to the museums myself, thank you very much. At 28, I find it creepier in the current societal context. My mom has a 10+ year age gap between her and her siblings, though, (as she was an “accident” born in Italy while my grandfather was stationed overseas) and is 12 years younger than my stepfather, so the potential for a future marriage or romantic compatibility wasn’t considered negatively in the same way formal sexwork is viewed. Because of the legality of the contract.

My piece of shit ex had a groupchat with “him and the boys” (this is the Orlando CPA with multiple degrees who now manages his own Fidelity related firm and raped me in my sleep) where his male friends, including ones with girlfriends they are now engaged/married to, asked HIM if they should “stop in Gainesville and service [me]” when I was emotionally conflicted about our relationship and not interested in sex while I was working through that. 

A few years ago, I had another guy that I regularly hooked up with from UF who, when I was in Tampa for a gals trip weekend, hit me up. We regularly sexted, exchanged nudes, and had been doing so for years with plenty of shared sexual chemistry and experiences previously. He got a hotel room, since he lived at home, fucked me and came in about a minute. (His sex tape would’ve been a tik tok), and then he left (which I later found out was to go on a date with his now-girlfriend who I only found out about after he finally posted her a YEAR into their relationship while he was STILL in contact with me.) I wouldn’t have cared as much if I had been paid, to be honest. But him leaving me there made me so worried about whether I was being filmed, secretly, whether his excessive neatness and minimalist lifestyle was a predisposition to his original plans of actually murdering me there, to which he may have chickened out. I felt so used and disgusted. Because that isn’t what I signed up for.

If you wonder why every woman knows another woman who has been raped, but men seem to not know any rapists, it’s because it’s not enough of a reason for them to distance themselves from them. It’s because they excuse the behavior. It’s because they themselves know or remember instances of murky territory that condemning their friends might highlight and they’re aware themselves of just how at risk they are for the same “accusations” which comes down to not being aware of or respecting other people’s personal boundaries.

…Yet sexwork is still illegal and women commonly aren’t able to report events when they happen because of the legal nuances and discrepancy around consent and evidence. Comprehensive sexual education isn’t required. 

Yet women, people coming forward years later, are the ones being “dramatic”.

When I was 21, I worked at MD Anderson in Houston, Texas doing advanced stage head & neck and thoracic oncological work. I was working 14 hour days of unpaid research “experience”, which was a great opportunity, but nevertheless involved me staying at my biological dad’s friend’s house and being in a very tight spot financially. This friend, a man in his late 30’s (maybe early 40’s at the time), was dating a 23 year old with a slender bodily build and long blonde hair, much like my own, who would not let him stay at the house with me because she felt threatened. I did not know he was dating someone so similar to me, physically, until I was there. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable, had I known–even if he had given me his BMW to drive, had a pool with a motor so you could swim laps in place, and I received free lodging. She had fake, large tits though (and I do not), so he saw her as more “sexually mature”. A “very different age”. Because she was coerced by the beauty industry and media representation for women to cater and prioritize physical appearance and comfort for the male gaze, not for her own beneficial wellbeing. That was a “good” thing, to him.

While we’re on the subject of Texas–you’re not allowed to own more than 6 dildos but stripclubs are free for alls because “god forbid” we include government legislation like those in the DMV (DC, Maryland, Virginia) which involve pasties (not complete nudity), not being able to touch without clear consent, and allow women to engage in this line of work in healthier and safer contexts where they can actually report violations and have security.

Don’t know why lack of government regulations has to kill so many people before we just simply stop allowing it and allowing people to abuse public government positions of “power”, but we’re still not investigating the fucking insurrection and attempt to dismantle democracy so fuck your ethics.

I was paraded around military bases before I was 18 years old, beating marines and navy seals in physical competitions just to “prove women could”. Military men who were interested in my eventual “coming of marriage age” status to be able to make a formal proposition, waited patiently and were seen as “noble”.

Men in general still embrace the antiquated idea of asking fathers for their daughter’s hand in marriage, before they even ask the woman herself, because the priority of a woman’s sovereignty is never for it to be her own. 

Considering marriage–It might strike you as shocking, but I can’t WAIT for the day I get to take my husband’s last name. To get rid of my biological father’s? Fucking RIGHT. Sign me up. I actually considered going back to my mother’s maiden name, and the only reason I haven’t yet is I have published research in Nature, a huge scientific publication, and it would be annoying to have to reference 3 names I went by on tax and legal documentation for the rest of my life. A small gift for whatever man dares the risk and lives a lifetime of partnership with me. A token of my gratitude. A truly progressive gal.

(44:33)

To summarize my issues with the current illegality of sexwork, I’d like to pose the following scenarios for you:

In a country where women in the workforce is at a 33 year all time low, in part because a pandemic required the “burden” of childcare to fall largely onto women, who also happen to make up the majority of the educator’s workforce (glorified babysitting in the public school sector for less than $35,000 per year), as 76% are female, how dare we condemn a profession aimed at reducing sexual repression and meeting the sexual needs, healthy needs, of others and allows redistribution of wealth into female pockets. (Which we all know they want to keep from us in a variety of literary contexts, anyways.)

In a country that has not ratified the U.N.’s Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, despite having been involved with drafting that legislation, and openly criticizing and engaging in warfare with Iran, Sudan, and Somalia–other countries where we criticize the lack of progressive legislation directed at women empowerment specifically, it’s a bit hypocritical.

In a country where child marriage is allowed, even though the vast extent of those involve girls being “allowed” to marry their rapists, as the majority of those cases involve older men preying on TEENAGERS. CHILDREN. YOUNG GIRLS. Where parents can make those decisions for female children and we can force young girls to be responsible for another’s life yet not allow them to dictate their own, this should be criminal.

In a country where my boyfriend, a junior in a top 5 public university at the time, was allowed to specifically vocalize that he was “clean”, even though he had never had ANY kind of sexual health testing, engaged in numerous sexual encounters without protection of any kind, and people under the age of 24 account for over 60% of chlamydia diagnoses, half of gonorrhea diagnoses, and over 80% show no symptoms, and then would have had no repercussions of any kind after he cheated on me and AGAIN exposed me, nonconsensually, to yet again MORE STD’s, we make women ashamed for calling it out. THOSE men don’t even have to get tested. They can literally be prescribed the pill because you tested positive (which is a good thing, healthcare wise), without ever visiting the doctor or receiving their own formal positive test or sexual education. The burden and responsibility falls and remains on those, the few, who are already responsible instead of creating a more responsible society.

We make it difficult, if not impossible, for women to trust men.

At this rate, YES, I am ALL FOR agreeing to a set amount or fee for dating, sexual acts with appropriate testing, a legal system that will support me should I (and the terms of our contract) be violated, ALL FOR THIS. I’d honestly feel safer dating if I wasn’t constantly worried about being yelled at for not being more emotionally invested, if somebody was accountable for my location and company, if I could perform background checks on these STRANGERS, if friendliness wasn’t so uncommon it might be misconstrued as “interest”.

YES, YOU CAN DATE ME FOR MONEY YOU JUST MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO AFFORD ME. SLIDE IN THOSE DM’S. PAY MY BILLS. JUST RECOGNIZE MY RIGHT AS A GOD DAMN AMERICAN TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE, AT ANY TIME, FOR ANY REASON.

Isn’t that what you conservatives fight to defend, so much?

That moment in Holes when Sigourney Weaver’s fucking BEAUTY of the character “The Warden” in a childhood flashback comes on, and that little girl drops her shovel, stomps her foot, and is all, “I’m tired of digging! Grandpa!” Well, I am fucking tired of working and existing for the collective societal benefit of seemingly everyone other than myself and not be paid for it. I am tired of my body being used and appreciated by everybody else, but the second I recognize its worth and appreciate it myself, veiled comments on needing to be “humbled” emerge from the bitter dredges of jealousy. 

In the only “high income” country that does not require paid parental leave, we essentially punish women (and families) for the choice to have kids yet also demand a working class supply of labor to exploit instead of the goal being less labor and better working hours for all.

In a country simultaneously enacting legislation that prevents widespread access to birth control, comprehensive sexual education, and allows these decisions to be made for human beings without their consent, based on religious affiliation they do not agree to, partake in, or actually understand or believe in, what the FUCK happened to “separation of church and state”?

In a country where the wealthiest, those involved in making said very legislation, have been proven time and time again to be involved in rape trafficking, or can hop on their private flights and access legal sexwork elsewhere (including with children)–why would we allow them to be the morality police?

In a country where law enforcement agrees to “look the other way” as long as they are allowed to partake in the sexwork, which is effectively sexual coercion. (Approximately 34 states still allow law enforcement to have sexual relations with detainees.) And a WOMAN , a judge CURRENTLY SITTING ON THE SUPREME COURT, ruled that a city was not liable for damages to a raped teenage prisoner because “rape wasn’t in the official job description” for the guard–do we have to specifically outline this as disallowed in employment contracts moving forward?

In a country that ranks 49TH of 142 applicable countries in gender equality (based on the World Economic Forum’s Gender Gap Index) yet continues to devalue local community positions, punishes people who seek higher or better education through the ever-increasing cost of PUBLIC education and student loans (making it nearly impossible for those to return to the communities they left), and makes being a shitty person more profitable because “health” is undermined in every level under capitalism. 

In a country where over 1 in every 4 women is raped (or attempted), where the norm is sexual violence and harassement, who the fuck are we protecting by keeping sexwork illegal? Surely not the thousands of children rape trafficked through the foster care network?

In a country whose DECREPIT HEALTHCARE SYSTEM and refusal to just fucking MOVE TO UNIVERSAL HEALTHCARE has us ranked LAST of the “industrialized” nations for healthcare system performance, yet healthcare workers themselves have to worry about their salaries being depleted (instead of companies involved in tobacco or alcohol having to pay more corporate tax) and stupid fucking white GOP dick suckers on the internet insist that “America is the best country in the world” without recognizing that “the America’s” is TWO CONTINENTS. “America” isn’t even a fucking country. Claiming only US citizens are “american” is ignorance at its FINEST.

In a country where that very same healthcare system is allowed to prey on the insecurity of largely women, via plastic surgery and medical spas, overlapping with the beauty industry, without requiring mental health evaluations or access to mental health services of any kind or asking why so many women, including teenagers, are allowed to make life altering procedural decisions, all while not ensuring they have access to actual healthcare, nutrition and affordable healthy food options, safe recreational areas.

What the FUCK are we doing keeping sex work illegal?

Who the fuck are you protecting?

Just a reminder, this episode is for the Red River Women’s Clinic, if you’d like to donate you can access it here: http://www.redriverwomensclinic.com. Thank you all for the support, reading, listening and interest. My main marketing is through word-of-mouth, so I really appreciate anyone sharing it, publicly or privately. You can follow me on instagram @zedagrace, especially if you like functional fitness and what I can only describe as the “soul cycle” of yoga. Movement is medicine. Have a wonderful week.

SOURCES:

https://nces.ed.gov/programs/coe/indicator/clr

https://www.citizen.org/article/dead-last-u-s-health-care-system-continues-to-rank-behind-other-industrialized-countries/

https://coloradosun.com/2019/10/21/colorado-abortion-rates-keep-declining-free-iuds-and-easier-access-to-the-pill-are-the-reason/

https://nypost.com/2021/06/03/texas-valedictorian-paxton-smith-slams-abortion-ban-in-speech/

https://www.the-sun.com/lifestyle/1471708/suicide-death-prison-porn-stars/

https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-features/death-of-a-porn-star-201939/

https://www.redbled.com/dead-pornstars/

Ghislaine Maxwell Pt. III

Welcome. Good luck.

Pt. I Found Here
Pt. II Found Here

When Does Your Body Become “Yours”? 

Around the closure of middle school, and with the start of my body’s natural entrance into puberty due to this incredibly natural concept called “aging”, I began experimenting sexually with my peers, which is, yet again, NORMAL. By that, what I really mean is I made out with a guy once in the summer after 8th grade but maybe if I was lucky, I went to a sleepover with incredibly basic versions of spin-the-bottle (and by “Basic”, I mean they blew me away as “risque” at the time and really we weren’t even using tongue yet.) I had quit gymnastics, opting to pursue soccer, track, and football in highschool, as well as my elite equestrian career. I went from just 4’11” to 5’7” over a short 12 month span, joined a travel soccer team with little to no prior experience, and moved from my P.O.A. pony, Sandy, to my palomino horse, Wildfire, as the fences surpassed 3’ in my eventing competitions. I was leveling up in so many ways, but for the first time in my life, men (boys) were actually starting to take recognition of me. No longer was I the shy, quiet nerd in class. I was the shy, quiet nerd that my male teenage peers wanted to fuck. 

However, according to my incredibly overbearing father, I wasn’t allowed to date, I could have absolutely no social media of any kind, I must get his permission for everything. 

Hopefully we will have made some progress by the time my friend’s children are of adolescent age, but all that set-up was some premonition in my mind that I was “his” to give away once he judged someone worthy. My body, but particularly sexual expression, was controlled by others and outside of my control. An idea I still angrily reject, that makes me not unable to even fathom getting married (because the archaic thought that someone might have the audacity to either ask my estranged father for my hand in marriage or that I would need anyone to accompany me down the aisle as if it’s not the stare-inducing catwalk in whatever form fitting gown I squeeze myself into that I’ve daydreamed of performing on my entire life.)

I had exactly two discussions on sexual education with my parents, or rather, my mother. The first, when my fifth grade class separated the boys and girls one day at the end of the year, after first getting our parents to sign a permission slip for us to discuss “the birds and the bees”. The second, when I finally approached my mom about getting on birth control for my “first real boyfriend”, even though I’d already been having sex for months prior to that. Looking back, it really makes me question why Christianity-influenced sexual education is allowed to perpetuate in public schools, or our government, for that matter, and how the way I was taught as a woman to view my body was ever viewed as “healthy”. At least it wasn’t the abstinence-only bullshit some places still desperately cling to, but dammit do we need to make some more progress. 

Sex, and the female body, just wasn’t a topic of discussion. I wasn’t allowed any of the fancy magazines, because Cosmopolitan was trash and full of made-up tips. Not only that, but I shouldn’t even touch myself. The blasphemous vitriol encompassing soiling my body with my own touch was unbearable. I had to hide my feminine products behind carefully placed larger items on the conveyor belt while checking out at the store, tucked away discreetly on the shelves within my own private bathroom, zipped within the pocket of the purse I carried to and from the restroom–terrified of the moment someone might realize exactly what they were. I understood the very basics of what I was physically going through, but I didn’t know what was normal. I wasn’t sure if the things I was feeling were common, because I was never actually taught why hormones were important for women to understand. Thanks to sports, other than the height jump, I really didn’t have physical changes that necessitated any additional discussions. 

All of these small things added up to make me feel ashamed of being a woman. I was too ashamed to even learn about my body on my own either–reliant on the hands, mouths, and penises of whatever males caught my attention over the years to be able to anticipate what my body needed better than myself. Nevermind where to even start with self-educating–am I even allowed to google terms like that? What if my father looked up the search history and I got grounded? And what did it mean, to someone who wasn’t particularly religious any longer, contemplating atheism vs. Bahaism vs. being agnostic, to question their “purity” or lack thereof for their next partner? 

We don’t want to be faced with the reality of paying for our teenage daughter’s choice of vibrator, but we’re okay with consoling them after their adolescent heartbreak also ends in slut shaming for succumbing to the basic biology flooding their endocrine system. I guarantee you, if they’re getting themselves off, if they view sexuality as more of an enlightening rather than a sin, then they’ll have a lot less interest in a boy who doesn’t share those thoughts.

I get it, no parent wants their children to become sexually active. They seem so small, so innocent, so naive, and all you want to do is protect them from the horrors of the reality of the world. 

But part of creating such a historically militaristically superior country, (such that all international trauma occurs outside of our geographical boundaries and we therefore feel safe from, or even encourage, as long as it makes our personal lives a little more cushion-y and we remain naive to the purpose behind the maneuvers) and living in a “developed” nation, (where technology is meant to replace a large portion of the working class so we, collectively, as a country, may actually enjoy being human) we are supposed to have the time, stability, and ability to educate ourselves and improve upon our past behaviors so that the world, or at least our country, local communities, and friendships, are more enjoyable.

Is it really a surprise that a country built on white, conservative, Christian, patriarchal values and so resistant to change to the reality of the NATION around them would also have a generation of women whose days as a youth were filled with values of independence, being whoever you wanted, traveling wherever you wanted in the world, but weren’t expected to resist against the numerous legal restrictions restricting autonomy over our own bodies? Or that we won’t question the law, and subsequently the behavior or ideology that facilitated and created a culture that thought viewing women in this way was the most appropriate? Or that I’m supposed to listen to a religious culture whose own willingness to forgive and look the other way has damaged hundreds of thousands of children throughout history, yet still grasps to this fallacy that believing in it somehow pushes you above others in the rankings of the world? 

I don’t even want to hear from the “not all Christianity” people, because the reality of religion, particularly globally, is it has MANY more implications than just moral or ethical peace of mind. And being a Christian doesn’t make you a bad person, that isn’t what I’m getting at nor do I think that in the least. There are plenty of decent Christians. But it is also impossible to ignore the globally historical context of Christianity’s influence over FEMALE rights (again, largely because it has been most common amongst patriarchal societies such that the two ideas go hand-in-hand in interwoven confusion) and from a more generalized perspective, latent functions of religion are consistently, decade-after-decade, country-after-country, global-movement-after-global-movement used to ostracize minorities, spread hatred, and (in my country, the USA) stigmatize humanity in such a way that we are terrified of the reality of what it means to “be human” and look for some hope to follow when the bounds of our knowledge fail. Not to mention the spread of disease and exploitation of land in the name of “missionary goals” that has just wiped through populations such that the Trail of Tears is essentially America’s Holocaust and society wants to look the other way or skim over it in U.S. history. (That isn’t an insult to the Holocaust either, that’s a testament that the USA has committed horrific crimes against marginalized people on the same land we now govern and we can’t really look the other way and say we were always doing things “for the greater good”, because it’s necessary to specify for WHOSE greater good, which is usually our white European ancestry.) 

Those decisions, made based on that very same Christian mindset and ideology, were horrible. Inexcusable. And still affect the lives of the descendants today because the average person only makes roughly 10% more money than their parents. So what if you don’t know who your parents are? What if you come from a single family home? How do you escape cycles of poverty when doing so is choosing between the safety and security of your family and emotional love of like-minded people (if you were lucky enough to grow up in a community like that) with a circle of peers who had the literary resources, the representation of historical figures, the financial security that you lacked? And how do you do that when those who were responsible have washed their hands of it, prayed for forgiveness, done ten hail mary’s or whatever and believe that just because they wouldn’t outwardly do or say anything in person that it must not actually happen…that it was propaganda, a leftist LIE, bad editing, even though the evidence that land, lives, and money are being moved around like pieces on the chessboard in Harry Potter are right in front of you, publicly available data. Or that you’re lucky if, like Ron, Hermione, and Harry in “The Sorcerer’s Stone”, you get to make your own choice of movement and aren’t just a pawn under the guise of someone else’s direction. 

My purpose of this is truly not to condemn Christianity. It’s just important to be honest during reflection and acknowledge that identifying your belief system as the “right” one will inevitably create an environment where those less educated, or more warped by power, utilize that concept to establish dominance over others (if there is a “right” choice, then surely logic points at the others as “wrong”). Sure, that’s the way the world works, and religion has persisted, or at least been prioritized and preserved, throughout civilization after civilization, but that’s just one of the reasons why I’m not religious. 

Your “not all Christians” comments that I KNOW some of you mentally screamed just serves to protect your own public interests because you, individually, try to be a decent Christian and you either worry your own behavior or identity will be used against you as an insult (much like characteristics of minority’s identities have been used insulting against them…by Christianity… for the record) or you would rather live in blissful ignorance because the thought of it happening in your own little bubble of Christian community is too terrifying of a concept. This sermon wasn’t for you. Not all of us get that choice. And most importantly, not all of us grow up and can remain happy in those environments, so the premise that “if you don’t like it, leave” doesn’t really work when it instills generations of unnecessary neglect, abuse, and trauma. 

The country, community, and household I grew up in are/were all white, conservative, Christian values. I went to a private school the majority of my early life and church every Sunday. My father, a well revered man within the local community, was admired, revered for his work with special education individuals. My parents were married quickly after college, had 3 children, a large home, a small (family) farm, it should have been the American dream. 

So why couldn’t I be happy, or move on from it, even years later? When I’m no longer religious? When I no longer live with, or even speak to, my biological father? 

We can all learn from studying the experience of trauma… 

In my own education and discovery of reconstructing the values of my prior reality with prioritizing what I want in life, who I want to be in life, what I actually value, I realized I felt compelled to revisit, to question, these experiences, much in the same way that makes me a great, passionate scientist, BECAUSE I have had to experience a lot of these things alone, but I don’t have to anymore. 

For the record, two years ago if you asked me whether I anticipated ever having a blog and comparing the dictatorship of living under a household with my biological father to a militant regime and undercover operation aimed at trafficking children, I’d probably shrug my shoulders and be like, “I bet there’s a reason I do that.” I’m well aware of the concerns of going too in depth in psychoanalysis and implanting memories (we’ve all yearned over Joseph Gordon-Levitt during Inception, I’m sure), that therapy doesn’t work for everyone, that some people attribute psychology to a field of fallacy. That’s great. Start your own blog and YOU write it if you want me to touch on that. 

I, however, would like to normalize being able to talk about the experiences that shape you in life as a person and drive your passions, emphasizing what we LEARN from those psychoanalytical depths, even when it’s not pretty. 

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Our culture in the USA reveres the history of our nation’s success. We wave our military pride and justify that, because we overpower other, significantly smaller countries, through forced intimidation and keeping conflict on their own territory, that we shouldn’t have to address the cultural unrest or criminal injustice within our own borders because we had “bigger things to worry about.” We call protestors of Black lives matter “privileged” because “they should be grateful they even have the TIME to protest”. We call our healthcare workers “heroes” while simultaneously making their jobs harder by feeling the NEED for exquisite sushi because “you have to stimulate the economy” and passing legislation that makes a global pandemic a bipartisan issue. We took capitalism and inserted it into our government such that politics is now a “retirement plan” for those whose jobs are arbitrarily designated as “more important”, and thus, more financially rewarding, when in reality, those people were likely responsible for only a few years of actual labor before moving into abstract thinking and having dozens, hundreds, or thousands of people funneled into roles under their control and because we attribute hard work = financial payout, the fact that they likely had the funds to control every aspect of their life’s narrative is negated because “they struggled too”. We took obsession with celebrity culture and materialism and idolized it in such a way that reveres Elon Musk for his conspiracy hoaxes on the coronavirus pandemic, even though the guy’s genius is limited to the realm of engineering, because somehow him being a billionaire means he would have the best interest in the world at heart, even though the very fact that he’s a billionaire means he’s capable of understanding how the country functions well enough to exploit it and selfish enough to not care about reinvesting it in his community…but at least he got rid of all twelve of his homes recently. 

Is it REALLY such a surprise that the global pedophilic ring of Ghislaine Maxwell and Jeffrey Epstein was operating with frequent U.S. citizens and is well woven, tangled, dreaded into the political regime of the country? And, again, how the fuck do you think a guy who has STILL outwardly pledged his support and “well wishes” for that woman to be innocent? Fuck Trump 2020. I cannot wait until we live in a Black Mirror-esque reality where your public opinion and ability to vote on a national ordinance can both be easily accessible and verified, as well as be mentally connected to the weight of your opinion compared to your trove of knowledge on scientific fact or accurate news sources. Bring on the “Bill Gates’ computer chips into people’s brains conspiracy theory”. The average American has a 3rd grade reading level. Some of you clearly need it. 

Let’s look closer at our history towards women.

We tell women how we want them to dress, sexually gratifying and consuming the imagery, then call them whores for dressing that way in real life or being firm and confident in their own sexual prowess and pleasure. 

We uphold lengthy prison sentences for nonviolent drug offenses or make sure to show up for court sentencing over a 15 mile per hour over-the-limit ticket on a straight, narrow, otherwise vacant stretch of highway, while excusing the physical abuse of domestic violence and don’t even bother to look for some of the women who go missing because “nobody cares about them”.

We underpay historically women-dominated fields, such as education, so that even if I wanted to teach as a career in Maryland, knowing I could be most useful sharing my knowledge with and shaping the lives of the future generations, particularly within the underserved area I grew up in just outside of D.C., the $46,000 I would make as a single female with a bachelors and what will be TWO master’s degrees…for a public middle school math program, could never support a financially secure lifestyle such that I wouldn’t have to worry that a single health scare like cancer, would bankrupt me. 

We entice women by manipulating their desperation for the attention a free $2 shot brings, then tell them they “should have expected” the sexual expectation or assault because too many men now think sex is something you do TO a woman and not something you do WITH a woman. Or that a few rounds of a $2 shot is not the equivalent of me prostituting myself for $10.

We make women feel as if their only role of value to men is for breeding purposes, yet don’t provide them paid maternity leave (because, again, the man should be able to provide for a single family in this heteronormative capitalist society and they shouldn’t end up back at work anyways). Then we make women who are incapable of supporting viable life feel guilty, as if somehow it is their fault even though it may just be shitty biomechanics. Haven’t you seen National Geographic? ALL of the elephants in a tribe help raise those babies. If one falls into a sink hole, do you think it matters who the biological mama is? No. We also make women who choose not to have children feel like they “are going to regret that choice” even though it is likely the poor availability of men, or parental figures, in their lives that have created an inhospitable environment to feel as if children are an unwilling sacrifice. (Or, just, you know, the state of the world in general and how massively overpopulated we are, greenhouse gas emissions, etc.)

We exploit themes of “daddy issues” in a way that mocks the women who have had to challenge the authoritarian bounds set for them, go to years of therapy over the the abandonment issues, foster the ENDLESS angry insinuations or societal concern that “but he’s your father, honey, you should forgive him. You only get one.” even though your disdain is going on 15 years of the 27 in your life and you feel like that is more than appropriate enough time to bury the hatchet and move on. A few years back, we reached the tipping point where he was a really shitty father for a lot longer than he was a good one, so, that’s the last I want to hear on that. 

We criticize women whose entire goal does not involve securing a husband or having children, even though them appearing more “attainable” is, in fact, an unfortunate psychological factor into boosting their opportunity for recruitment in many industries within the U.S., and since “higher up” roles are STILL largely held by white males, you have to consider that reality if you want to help infiltrate and change that trajectory for generations after you. One guy recently asked me why I talk about the burden of being single so much and whether it ACTUALLY affects my life, and maybe it’s because he’s an engineer and people expect him to be reclusive, or at the very least, nerdy enough to not be dominated by “Dating”, but as an attractive woman, it is literally the only thing people EVER ask me about. To the point where it’s obnoxious that it seems like the only thing I’m supposed to care about. Which is, again, infuriating given that I’ve helped chemically synthesize an advanced stage prostate cancer inhibitor, or that I hiked an entire mountain the previous weekend, or that I know what the inside of your body can look like, and yet, dating and my relationship status is, without fail, always the priority because “a pretty girl like you must be locked down”. 

We hear the right’s cries of “saving the children” but do nothing to actually better the environments that contribute to this exploitation–environments that largely rely on female submission, and do nothing to improve the foster care, public education, or primary care/women’s reproductive rights programs that prevent unwanted (teenage) pregnancies, raise the children that aren’t aborted or experience terrible loss, enable physical health management for improved quality of life, and do nothing to actually give back to the community in a physically present way other than the regular financial donations, because “time is of the essence” and “your time is valuable” and would rather be spent with your family, so you pay for it to be someone else’s problem and your bubble of community and faith in Jesus tells you that’s enough to let you sleep at night. Better yet, you just “save” all of these children now and yet vote for four more years of a future that disadvantages them…but at least they are alive to experience it???

But what can we do? 

Growing up in the public education system right outside Washington, D.C., I didn’t realize that my peers around the country had significantly different history and government classes in their school curriculums. The events of national history and patriotism that I was learning about were happening on the land around me. John Wilkes Booth rode across my farm’s land to get to Dr. Mudd’s house after shooting President Abraham Lincoln. Every single school field trip was the short bus ride into Washington, D.C. to whatever museum was most relevant in our local curriculum. We passed the buildings where this legislation was being passed, the votes were being held, the laws were being developed, and it felt tangible. 

This guy I fucked like, twice, over the year and a half I knew him in graduate school has a very amusing kink (no further details, even though I know he’d be wiping the sweat off his brow if he was reading this and it brings a flickering grin across my face) and has divulged his…interest…in me over the last 2 years since I graduated. Mind you, we live several states away from each other, it is CONSISTENT and patterned communication, and the guy is a fully functioning member of society for all other purposes. I’m not one to kink shame, either, so it was an insulting turn of events when he implied that, because of his (and my shared) sexual interests, I would “never be able to get into politics”. 

Sir. 

Have you seen who occupies the white house? 

Things that are normal in society and normal for a healthy, moderate lifestyle, ESPECIALLY when we now KNOW just how “normal” these things are and what the global, educated consensus on “normalcy” is, just should not be stigmatized so much. It should be a natural part to revisit our experience of things, to learn and grow and figure out what it means to be a culturally aware, healthy human. The fact that we even need to specify the necessity to prioritize this abstract theory, as if it is some “Healthy People 2020” goal. (Sidenote: Oh, Michelle Obama, you remarkable woman, I’m so sorry about this year’s trajectory.) 

Would you ever have the audacity to sit there and tell a Jewish person that they shouldn’t care about the Holocaust because they didn’t “personally” experience it? Or that they shouldn’t talk about it? Or that we shouldn’t remove the statues or symbols of Hitler in society? No. So stop telling black people, women, emotional men, literally anyone who tries to empathize and refuses to bend to this idea that the people you idolize were “amazing” and start listening to HEAR their stories. Question for curiosity, not to prove your preconceived thought. Start opening your ears to those in pain around you. 

Clue #6: Celibacy and Sexual Apathy 

My first “real” relationship in highschool, I spent 3-4 years being abused, forced to have sex nearly every day just so my stalker (“boyfriend”) in the form of “high school love” wouldn’t shank me the way he threatened to shank my male best friend at soccer practice one day. If you’re like “why did you stay for so long?” Well, a “healthy” conscious of guilt, growing up in a family that had an unequal power dynamic between gender roles, and the stereotypical “started out overly sweet and affectionate, won my emotional trust and hormonal dependency, then gradually divulged into more and more severely deranged behavior” all played a role. In fact, I used to have to take my mom’s car to visit friends I had met during track, who lived an entire county away, after he would leave my house for the day, so that when he drove by later that evening and saw mine still in the driveway, he wouldn’t be suspicious. I wasn’t allowed a myspace or facebook when it came out (which worked to my advantage because there are no embarrassing archives of me in high school) and had to tell my male friends from school they weren’t allowed to text me, because I might “stray”, which meant he’d grab and twist my arms until they were covered in bruises, but mottled with my soccer injuries you couldn’t differentiate.

… That was normal behavior to me, though. My father had ensured I had no control over the use of my own body. I watched what happened when my mother broke the rules. I watched my grandmother wince when my grandfather would angrily shout out in his sleep. I was still doing so well in sports and school, excelling as always, so why should my unchanged behavior warrant concern? Why would my parents be alarmed with the way I was treated, when doing so would highlight the trenches of flaws within their own foundation? Why should I expect, or want, anything better, or different, for myself when I didn’t know what else was out there? 

Plus, my high school boyfriend was many things and a obviously a complete psychotic nutjob above all, but there is no denying he had an incredible penis for a 15 year old to learn how to enjoy herself on. Truly, a wonderful specimen of the human body for my first “real” boyfriend. Solid girth, good length, capable of satisfying a lifetime equestrian. I was getting off, and since I was so much smarter than him, I could get around his inadequate attempts to tie me down and continued to live a Hannah Montana-esque double life of secrecy–a much longer story for a much different time.

It should really be no surprise that after years of enduring this, and even more years of deconstructing these sexual norms through several long-term, progressively healthier relationships and therapy, that I’ve now begun to struggle with my sexual identity. I can finally cringe at any reminder of what I thought was acceptable.

For the record, I have not been immune to my fair share of several unhealthy, chronic hook-ups, (in fact, I have even had to get a restraining order against one of them) but your girl appreciates her solid, reliable, I-know-what-I’m-getting dick, okay. There is a lot to be appreciated in the stability of generic, well-endowed penii as a mid-to-late 20’s woman tired of the burden of her gender. However, when I’m not in committed relationships in recent years, I tend to enter periods of complete, utter sexual apathy in lieu of even casual attempts at hook ups.

The first time, in undergrad, I cycled through a period of celibacy for almost two years while focusing on my random whim to actually see what I was capable of with track after quickly tiring of partying my freshman year. Part of that was definitely because the guy I absolutely adored (who had an amazing cock that I got to ride to my little heart’s content on and off for 8 years until about 2018 actually) transferred to Tennessee, and I didn’t care enough to find anyone else who could toss me around like the proprioception of a wrestler can, but mainly it was the “not wanting to be distracted” thing. (I tell myself, while annoyingly wondering how his dog is doing.)

Recently, I’ve been in another cycle of celibacy since May of 2019 (so roughly, what, 15-16 months?). For no reason in particular, other than “I’m not looking” and “it’s not a priority.” And whenever anyone seems so surprised by this (I suppose being capable of being sexual and sluttiness are mutually inclusive for women these days), because of the lack of clothing in my photos gracing instagram, I truly just have no patience for the explanation. 

After traveling over 5 times (woah, the privilege) to Europe (3 of those times, I was “working”, I’ll have you know), and living in Florida for 2 years, as well as the lifetime of athletic performances in my past life, I got used to being really comfortable with my body. I no longer rushed to sexualize the shape of my breasts, or the well-defined curvature of my ass in barely more than my underwear. In fact, I didn’t even think about my body when I threw on clothing that covered it. I walked down the Red light district in Amsterdam, a blonde American parting the red sea of tourists with presence alone, looking at naked girls draped across bed frames in windows and watching their eager movements, attempting to lure in the weak for a few minutes of “pleasure.” I sat absentmindedly on the beaches of La Ciotat, the pert nipples of the woman accompanying my beach chair’s neighbor out, yet on no more of a “display” than any of the men meandering around shirtless. I stared at paintings, statues, and figurines of “Feminine beauty” in Parisian, Dutch, and American museums, drinking in the subjectivity of that perception and acknowledging the cultural norms that allowed the art to exist. 

After spending time in cultures that allowed me to freely exist as who I am without judgment and with relative anonymity, cultures that didn’t value my physicality far above the rest of my assets, I began to realize how criticized I had felt my entire life. First, by my own family, then my peers, and finally, society. 

Sex, and intimacy, are one of the most difficult things that still comes so naturally to me. Even with the years of misuse and historically questionable ethics behind such acts, it is my nature to share it, to indulge it. But, I still live in a country that shames me for wanting to cavalierly discuss it at brunch with girlfriends. So, instead, I choose to flip the mental switch of apathy to “off”. If I can’t do it the way I know it’s supposed to be done, teeming with sensuality, love, passion, need, I just won’t do it at all. 

I read “The 5 Love Languages” by Dr. Gary Chapman, and, despite being relatively unamused and having more of a “no shit” moment, because anyone who has gone to therapy for years would have had that emotional insight as well (although, I guess it’s a lot quicker to learn it over the span of a few hours of reading), and was haunted by the reality that physical touch is probably one of my main love languages. It would explain why I refuse to let anyone other than those I’m super close with have physical access to me. It would explain why I would still be particularly resistant to that childhood abuse. There was comfort, though, in the knowledge that I’m fully confident, even with recognizing I physically guard myself more as a result of my childhood, that I can still allow that level of intimacy of legitimate spiritual sexual connection (shout out to that aforementioned 8 year “hook up” and the couple of others who I know I genuinely loved.) 

I, personally, can separate “sex” and “intimacy”, which is also why I am so obstinate about reducing the stigma around female sexuality, legalizing prostitution, etc, even with my history of being sexually assaulted on 3 separate occasions, states away from each other (Again, stories for another time). Preventing that has done nothing to help keep women from being objectified by society and has only increased violence towards women and allowed a country where our last election involved a choice between a rich and powerful man who sexually assaulted women or a rich and powerful women who led the publicly dehumanizing campaigns against the women her husband sexually assaulted. Both of which are reportedly attributed to a global pedophilic ring and still have significant influence in our political climate. 

Additionally, I do consider the fact that I can just “turn it off”, for years at a time, is evident of the extent of trauma tied up in it, though, or the very least, my emotional apathy, which is apparently fairly abnormal for a woman but, thanks to reddit, is reassuringly normal for the 1% of ENTJ ladies who understand my pain. The ease at which I transitioned into exploring my sexuality, even with being too scared to explore my own body personally, the lack of concern or awareness for how severely unhealthy those early relationships were, the knowledge of what to do even with no access to anything remotely similar to the playboy magazines my older brother was provided, a strict ban on all “American Pie” movies, draws the question of where in the fuck and when did I learn this stuff? If it really was all from natural bodily functions and emotions, why do we make it seem so bad? What is the point? 

Clue #7: A Sexual Identity Crisis

As a historically heterosexual female questioning my sexual identity for quite possibly the first time, it also begs the question how do I know that I am actually heterosexual? I would gladly bring in sexual partners of any gender to a trusting relationship, so does this desire for exploring the bounds of physical pleasure make me “wrong”? Does it mean I’m inherently attracted to them even if I have never given thought to how I view these potential “additions” in anything other than a sexual capacity? Plenty of other species of animals are polyamorous, so why do we assume humans must be? In Ancient Roman mythology, men took up male sexual partners after marrying. Why could I not do something similar? Why are all of the men I’m attracted to so sexually repressed that it borders on homophobia when I suggest trying something new? The fads of sexuality, at least those along the East Coast and perpetuated as “stereotypically [white] American”, are tied heavily to heterosexual marriage “norms”, and thus, legality…yet those societal acceptances wax and wane with every “revolution” or isolated civilization in history. Who am I to judge what I believe in, then, without at least trying it once? And how have we not yet learned, with the internet and freedom of information, to be much more moderate of perspective in a country founded on freedom? 

This premise, though, is far more complicated when you introduce themes of an extensive history of both physical and sexual abuse into new interactions with men. It’s extremely difficult to feel the security, companionship, and safety of a healthy relationship when my mind immediately categorizes every man into a filing cabinet of “Warning”. Every interaction with their “species” is now carefully reviewed–lest I make the same naive mistakes I made for YEARS when I “thought” I was in love before. Every accidental touch in a bar, every seemingly innocent catcall, every overlap of their body so it invades my personal space never appearing across my face as “awareness” but being mentally noted, anyway. To be fair, I’m pretty cynical towards MOST of humanity, because the average US citizen has approximately a third grade reading level, which can be a bit of a gap. So, to be clear, I tend to hold suspicion for humanity in general and not just men, we’re just focusing on men for the moment since that is the vast majority of my sexual history to date.

Wanting to enter a consensual sexual relationship to be “choked out” helps desensitize the horrific visuals of being slammed against the wall, threatened until you promise that you aren’t lying about hanging out with another guy (by a kid who got a 980 on all three sections of his SAT…meanwhile, you got a 1560 on just 2 sections…yikes). Or, how, because of your parent’s incredibly fucked up familial dynamic, you previously associated love with suspicion, control, maniacal mood swings instead of loving someone who accompanies you through the mundane activities of what actually encompasses “daily life” and now question, even with recognizing that, whether you’ll be able to healthily identify relationships moving forward? 

 What happens if your partner of choice finds out or guesses about your history, though? Let alone a history you haven’t come to terms with yourself? What happens, when, at 27, you still aren’t quite ready to combine “sexuality” and “compassion”, except through physical expression. You don’t know how. You’re re-learning as you go. 

And how can you explain that? How do you explain in adulthood that you’re investigating childhood traumas tied to your sexuality? At what point in your bumble conversation do you casually interject that the reality of your existence is crumbling around you and you’re about to embark on a mission of sexual self-discovery, so you would like the occasional use and objectification of the male body to make that a reality and offer a solid relief from your current array of silicone sex toys? Or how, despite being questionably candid, you can remain so emotionally unavailable to the receiver of the information?

How do you explain answers that you don’t, and will never, have? Nor do you particularly care to delve into because you’re just following your gut and know that you’ll figure out the right opportunities along the way? Or that, if you were a guy, you probably wouldn’t have had to worry about a lot of this? Your mind just wouldn’t even work that way? Must be nice.

An Awakening

Coming to grips with the idea that I don’t actually need to define my “sexuality” (but if I had to choose, I’d most align with pansexual), and it can just exist as curiously as it occurs, without further question, is an even bigger victory than Dolores recognizing she was capable of tearing down and reconstructing the boundaries of her own existence (to me). Although, I exist in a country where, prior to 2015, just five years ago, I would’ve had to make significant life decisions based around that definition. 

Factoring in my medical background, stigma towards the eroticism of the layers of specially differentiated cells separated into distinct layers of “blood”, “muscle”, and “skin” cloaking my body peeled away, and what remains is a young women learning how to appreciate herself for who she is, what that entails, and how she can influence the world. By physically cutting into the layers, patient after patient, within a surgical dermatology setting, to watching the concept of a “host’s” physical body being easily repaired and replaced on screen in Westworld, to crossing my own mental barriers through psychoanalytic exploration of my thought’s caverns, it became clear that there were simple, biological explanations for my behavior (and desires!), but I was made to feel ostracized by normalcy out of concern for the “taboo” labeling, much of which still existed in the medical world I was so desperate to continue forging a path in. Every male associate being assumed to be the superior by the patient when he is in the room with me, ESPECIALLY if he’s white. Every global conference where some random man would take it upon himself to share with me how “everybody will doubt your intelligence because of your beauty” after hearing your questions on a particular research topic–as if he were doing me some favor, or the irony in how he was doubting the fact that I would already know that. (I’ve watched Legally Blonde, thank you very much.) It became absurd that the most intellectual amongst us were incapable of separating the idea that one’s neural functions under one environment could exist wholly apart from the method in which a physical vessel is utilized under different conditions, and that being “professional” had to extent almost solely to repress females in the work force–whether it be criticism on the premise of dress code, extracurricular activities, or just natural sex appeal as if it was OUR fault that you were socially awkward and uncomfortable around a strong female you were also physically attracted to?  

I started connecting the realms of my life that existed in my youth as distinctly separate, yet shared larger themes. Why could I compete in a spandex leotard, running as hard as I could at a springboard, muscles clenched as I twisted, turned, and flew through the air, and have a framed high-definition copy hung up in my foyer, yet was apparently also supposed to be embarrassed if a photo I sent some random dude of the side of my body, cleverly hidden by a towel, with implications of how I wanted him to impale me, got out? Okay…congrats. It’s hot as fuck. Why are we even talking about this? Enjoy the show. I’m over 18. I’m allowed to have sex. I have more important things to concern myself with. The fact that I wouldn’t personally care about the likelihood of that happening, yet, if it were to, it would consume a considerable amount of my time, I would have to address it, it would impact my career and could even be used to punish ME, and even with being confident in myself, just the possibility of that happening contributes to the chronic stress in the background of my life is ludicrous. 

To me, there is no difference in how my body is viewed or in what capacity it is being admired by society. Whether it be sports, education, art, or sexually, I should not have to sit here and make it a topic as if it is up for discussion how I should use it. I should not have to live with the knowledge that it has been exploited likely just as much, if not more, times than it has loved. I shouldn’t have to worry about how it may be “distracting” to those paying me to use the brain it houses. I should be able to freely debut it as artistically as I wish while also being able to function as a woman with something more to offer society without that being particularly risqué.

But, I do. 

Circling back to Ghislaine… 

With each passing year, and each increase in freedom, my knowledge is reinforced that the way I was raised and the way I previously viewed my body and sexuality was not normal. Each shuddering resonation of the “Athlete A” documentary, particularly the voiceover of Kerri Strugg breaking her ankle to win gold at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta, acknowledging that “there is a line between tough coaching and child abuse” brings me flashes of breaking my own foot in three places at a horse competition, only to be told I was “probably exaggerating” and being made to walk on it for three more days! (A real, “the show must go on” mentality.) What would my grandfather have done in WWII, had he broken his foot, after all?

Then, comes the struggle every true crime addict comes to when they realize just how close they came to being susceptible to the very crimes they are fascinated with. So, when the topic turns to the realization of the plausibility that someone within my own family may have had knowledge of or access to these pedophilic rings splashed across the front page of every newspaper, (pedophilia being one of the dark threats to national security), these aren’t just statistics like also being a woman running alone on a bike path on a random afternoon. These are, instead, overlapping themes of jet setting around the world, a myriad of politics, militant, finances, power. The places and circuits and lifestyle of stuff you are just discovering that could very easily have been taking place around your naive self your entire life becomes overwhelming.

 You weren’t shielded from anything, you were hidden from reality. 

It wasn’t sustainable. 

Suddenly, the therapist’s office visits, the recurrent nightmares since I was little, the seeming insanity in memories of sleeping over the Pentagon “just for fun”, driving in the Gators around the corridors after literally being smuggled through security (this was pre 9/11), being introduced to my father’s bosses, all of the memories I was now struggling with in the identity crisis that is trying to find your place in the world in your late 20’s became that much more suspicious because I opened the Pandora’s Box that is “why do I struggle so much with my sexual identity as a self reflective, more-than-modestly confident, traditionally heteronormative woman?” 

Given that I have adopted a policy in recent years of refusing to have any version of a relationship with my biological father any longer, coupled with a Butterfly Effect of gradual disdain starting in middle school and the aforementioned technology boom from the first post, is it really my fault that the timeline becomes suspicious when I revisit old memories. Am I truly to blame for questioning the nature of my reality? Wouldn’t this have been inevitable at some point? Careful, logical analysis–the thing I’m rewarded in doing within every other facet of my life these days is what I’ve been told was a good thing?

Flipping through my family’s old photo albums, I am reliant solely on my own experience to quantify the glimpses of visuals that replay against the blackened screen of my forehead as my eyes flicker across the black and white copies lying on my bed in front of me. Revisiting how I perceived those events at the time and the subsequent method in which they shaped my life, how they still contribute to some illogical sense of guilt well into my adult life, has since come under extensive scrutiny. Would I even trust anyone else’s first-hand account of these events, if I were to get them? Particularly with my family’s history of the method at which they “handle” things and the light in which they shrug things off? My mother still reveals little tid bits of reality she hid from me, thinking she was doing me some insane type of favor. She recently admitted she knew my high school boyfriend was insane and was just worried he was going to try to kill me if she actually kept him out of our house. I tried to break up with the kid dozens of times, but she taught at the neighboring high school that he went to and would always talk about how sorry he was and how she viewed him as her son. I had to live years of my life in fear that got increasingly worse and worse because my mom knew how insane this kid was and decided to keep postponing the issue until I could move away for college versus holding him accountable in any kind of legal or even parental aspect? Sounds very similar to how the USA likes to handle our problems, so I’m not sure if I can blame her. 

Suddenly the naivety of my childhood began to peel away with every investigation into my past. My entire life, I had been suffocated under activity after activity, because I genuinely LOVE to be busy. But, what is that necessity for business routed in? As of late, I opt for the comfort of others and solitude of the natural landscape. So why am I still so anxious? Why do I feel the pressure of living up to the sacrifices of “overcoming” something? 

To date, I’ve “overcome” a lot more than the alluded familial dynamics. A tornado that decimated my hometown into a warzone, being held up at gunpoint, being threatened with a gun (on a separate occasion), having to seek out two restraining orders and walk into that courtroom by myself to hold the person who sexually assaulted me and harassed me in my apartment and the one who threatened me with a gun accountable, a long familial history of alcoholics, a family that “didn’t talk about it” because of our complex, deep military background, a local sniper threat and mass shooting drills in elementary school, numerous suicides and tragic deaths across each of my different friend groups between grades 7-10 so I went to roughly 8 funerals over a two year span in my adolescence, my biological father withdrawing into himself and mentally abandoning our family simultaneously, watching the way he talked to everyone else through the exact opposite of rose-colored glasses–seeing his “true nature” at home, the stark contrast between caring about things when they were under a spotlight and having any actual empathy towards your own family in the shadows. And the list continues growing, because these are the realities of life. 

I’ve “overcome” my stubborn resolution to never be a different person to the world and back at home for this reason. Instead, I have a methodologically presented array of ~*~layers~*~. Donkey (any Shrek fans here? …Who am I kidding…who ISN’T a Shrek fan?) can laugh, but much like an onion, I present my strictest, most utilitarian self to the world upon first meeting. The grittiest layer, harsh, covered in a little bit of dirt (after all, it doesn’t hurt anyone, remember?) With time, and effort, though, you get lucky enough to see the inner gooeyness that is inside. The guarded, beautiful light that strategically kept hidden from the world. The Evenstar of my soul, expressed in the activities I invest my time in, the talents I cultivate. Slowly, you come to realize the softness behind those layers. And not just a mildly appealing softness, but a soul so all-encompassing, flooding warmth into every crevice around it, that it’s met with a fear in the world because of the strangeness of its warmth. Characterized as a raging fire of destruction instead of a wave of uplifting magic, the perspective is disrupted and misconstrued as anger to those who can’t grasp it. 

And what, then, is the anger being misconstrued from? The truth is that all of those events that I’ve “overcome”, every visual horror carefully preserved in the archives of my photographic mind are ever present, available at my whim to be revisited. Rushed to the forefront of my mind following a traumatic car accident involving my tire popping on the interstate, spinning several meters into a treeline, I watched the history of my life replayed as simply as every movie frame during a death sequence. Only, when my car finally came to rest against the 6-7th tree I hit, I hadn’t died. 

Not even two years later, I finally have both the time and ability, in the form of a salaried summer vacation, for the first time in my life to actually just exist in comfort. Not worrying about where my next rent check is coming from, not spending the majority of my time doing monotonous task after monotonous task for a miniscule fraction of the money under the guise of “higher education”, compromising my finances at the risk of freedom, not being forced to work to live. Finally being able to, and having the opportunity, to revisit what talents, goals, desires out of the many, many that I’ve accumulated, are actually mine. 

Such a seemingly simple task if only it wasn’t shrouded with the dread of confronting years of repressed memories. And then confronting and struggling with the fact that I have still managed to flourish in a world that was not created for me, but certainly allows me more privileges than most, only to coexist across the multiple realms with no way to explain how each aspect of “you” is a great deal larger than the individual sum of its parts. 

It’s a struggle learning to balance needing to recognize and disclose the oppression when your entire life your own opinion has only been meaningful in the most superficial sense. In any serious context, your voice, knowledge, demeanor was always meant to be silent unless spoken to outside of a purely academic context. 

You’ve always had to justify your actions. People never take your extensive, meticulously cultivated education as fact–yet they’ll google it themselves to make sure, and only then acknowledge, in a tone of surprise, that you were right. 

Taking back your voice, however insane or complicated or delicate those thoughts may be, is important for healing. 

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EPILOGUE:

Prior to quarantine, I’d been developing a novel that dives further into the events listed above and how they help me connect with the communities around me. With the global pandemic finally acknowledged by our national government, though never sufficiently addressed, it seemed imperative to create a space where I could delve into creative writing on the topics of passion woven into the news. It felt strange having two completely separate works of writing that I wanted to eventually put forward, however, particularly with the stigma of what it could mean to my family. 

Then, in August, Taylor Swift released her latest beauty on the world that is “Folklore” and she mentioned feeling as if “you should project the art you make onto the world” (or something along those lines). 

If I always wait until I hit certain milestones or goals to take initiative on things, then they may never happen. I know, first hand, how quickly the timeline of your life can significantly change, so I started following more impulsive whims. My “story” is a part of who I am, and, while this is certainly a satirical and dramatized version, it is also how I’ve interpreted the world as a woman (and none of what I’ve said is a lie). I don’t want to be ashamed or afraid of the things that have shaped me. I also don’t want to hide behind a curtain and feel some political necessity to present a different version of myself to the world when we as humans should encourage growth and learning and retrospection. 


This will be the last of the Ghislaine themed chapters of my familial dive for now. The blog will transition into public opinion, investigative journalist/epidemiologist pieces as I see fit.

In other words, I will do whatever the fuck I want.