#womans issues

[moonly-bitch]

I'm in the gym and I'm on my period which means this wetness I feel could be a period stain or just sweat

Ah, how I love to be a woman

[everafter-ashley]

Since Trump won I guess I'll post a preview piece for my gallery project for Senior Seminar. Basiclly it is the bias against women that is out there. This will be a motion graphics piece in the end with text on it. There will be two companion pieces involving sexuality and age as well.

[drunkmomtalk-blog]

"Go Bag” Ready BY 3rd Trimester- 1st day of month 7! Yes!

We had a midwife to prepare us, but our midwife wasn’t prepared... for us... to be a few weeks premature (she had only been delivering babies for about 30 years). Thus we weren’t prepared. We hadn’t done the last “class”- and so this is what it looked like for us: I woke up at 3am to have a bowl of cereal (normal behavior for me), and my husband was still up (normal behavior for him). As I sat down with my bowl of cereal, I pee’d myself a little and I thought, that’s a nice new addition to this pregnancy thing. After a few more bites I realized, wait, that wasn’t pee- my water just broke.It was the weirdest realization- a mix of “well, that was underwhelming and sooo not like in the movies”, immediately followed by an adrenaline rush- extreme excitement, panic, fear, anticipation of THE moment that all this planning and shopping and fighting and daydreaming and re-folding of itsy-bitsy-teeny-tiny-clothes has been building up to, all jumbled together.I wanted to scream with joy, but I couldn’t for my vocal chords- trembling with nerves- and I wanted to scream in sheer terror... labor was coming- we hadn’t done the breathing class! No- I didn’t do lamaze- I work. Don’t you? It was a moment that was so crammed in thoughts and feelings. I must have bent time just to have had this moment. Have you ever had a heart palpitation? That was THAT moment. I caused that. And when I were done with that freak-the-fuck-out session, I was standing in the hallway with a towel fashioned between my legs like a Sumo wrestler, my husband rolling on the floor clutching his leg. He had walked into the foot-board of the bedframe looking for the hospital bag and really f'd up his shin. What I haven’t told you is that before the bowl of cereal, we had been in a multi-day fight. With the towel between my legs, I joined him on the floor, the contractions starting to come now. I remember a little speech broken up with long contraction “Oooooooohhhhs!”, about this being a memorable night, him being the sentimental one that will retell this story (“aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”) for the rest of his life, so we had better do away with the argument (stronger one- ooooohhhhaaaaahhhhh!) and make a good life long memory. We called the midwife who said, “Go back to sleep and call me in the morning!”. WTF!?!Didn’t she hear? My water broke? Isn’t this where you kick into gear, mad panic + sirens + running + kissing + screaming + hospital = baby? I texted  my friend Kirsty- she had had her first a year earlier. She told me which contraction app to download, to time them, and asked if I really wanted to be stuck in “Auckland morning traffic”, delivering my baby? We timed contractions and by 6a- we hopped into the car and headed to the hospital. No. We didn’t know where to park. We parked in the wrong place. We didn’t know where to enter. We entered in the wrong place. And to make it more interesting, I stopped at every bench in the hospital on that long, long walk, to the “right” place, to have my contractions on all four, like a dog. I don’t know why. Instincts took over, and that’s what felt best. When there wasn’t a bench, my husband had to help me get down; and get up. When we finally got to the maternity ward, the 200 year old receptionist informed me that my midwife was “supposed” to meet me there, and was "supposed" to have informed me about these procedures. I informed her that I was premature, and hadn’t been given ‘that class’. She wasn’t satisfied with my answer. She is lucky to still be alive.

[lil-bit-of-moonlight]

This reading says that women are frail and need to be taken care of by men. Thats such a bunch of crap, don't buy a minute of it.

Brian Benson, Professor of English, Tulsa Community College

[alittlemoreroomtolivee-blog]

Being A People Pleaser

I am a people pleaser. Almost to the point where it’s a problem. There’s this quote by Rachel Simmons, from her book (which isn’t anything amazing as a whole, but has some good parts) and I’ve always loved it because it speaks to me, and I think a lot of other girls too.

“Coming off of their teenage years, they may have gotten great grades and won awards, but years of feeling they must “constantly perform for others” leaves them ill-equipped to pursue their own desires, much less understand what they are. If you can ask your roommate to turn down the music, you’ll be able to ask for a raise five years from now. But if you can’t talk to the people in your life right now about what you need, you will not suddenly develop that skill later”

—  Rachel Simmons

The idea of having to “constantly perform for others” is so strange, but it feels like that’s what I’m doing sometimes! Being what other people need me to be. Sweet, relaxed, upbeat, girl-next-store. And it’s not that these things aren’t me, they are, they’re just not me all the time. Sometimes I’m angry or frustrated or uncomfortable, but I shy away from acknowledging these parts because it would make things harder for others, and as any people pleaser will tell you, you can’t have that. Your goal is to make things as easy for other people as possible, always, no matter how it effects yourself. In that situation from the quote, I wouldn’t ask my roommate to turn down the radio. I’d ignore it, laying in bed, hoping I could fall asleep at some point, secretly hating her for it. Which is insane, because if I don’t ask her to turn down the music she has absolutely no way of knowing it’s even bothering me. It’s so easy to tell people the good things, and it feels almost impossible to tell them the bad. I’m a yes girl. I don’t even know the question, but my answer is yes, because I know thats what you want to hear.

When I meet people, I’m not even worried about if I like them. I am so focused on making sure they like me. That’s not how it should be. I’m not advocating to be a complete bitch to every person you encounter, but if you don’t like someone, there’s really no need to pretend just for the sake of not having them dislike you. Life is not a game, you don’t get points for every person who would give you a positive review.

Part of this I think stems from the fact that I really do love people in general. People are fascinating, I want to know everything about everyone. And my emotions run deep, like really deep. So I remember how it feels to be ignored, or rejected, or disappointed, and these are things I would never want to make another person feel. But sometimes you just have to. Am I disappointing my mother by not going to law school? Yes, definitely. But you know who gets disappointed if I go? Me! I disappoint myself, and that’s not OK either. I matter too.

Part of it too comes from that feeling that you don’t really belong. You think “I’m not smart enough for this job, I’m not funny enough to be at this party, I’m just not good enough, period”. But if you can be sweet and charming and positive and nice, they’ll let you stay. The idea that maybe you’d have that job even if you were an asshole, because you are in fact smart, skilled, and talented, just doesn’t cross your mind.

I’m trying to work on fixing this and giving myself what I need. It’s just hard to be aggressive when you’ve spent your whole life avoiding confrontation.

[347danger]

Microsoft's karmic gaffe is 'opening up the conversation'

CEO Satya Nadella's comment that female employees should trust in karma opened Microsoft's eyes to unconscious bias.

[simplyamen]

Why I Need Feminism

I've been internally contemplating why I started this blog. Then I realized, I need to stand on my own a bit more. Don't get me wrong, I don't rely on guys. In the eyes of my friends, I'm somewhat put together. The guys I have been seeing, are not.

I need feminism because it's not okay for a guy to leave you hanging while he's out with another girl. It's not okay for a guy to systematically plan exactly what you're doing but not make any decisions beyond that. It's not okay to act like you're perfectly fine when you're trying your best to hold it together for the sake of appearances.

I need feminism because falling for the charming guy sucks. I'm tired of the mixed signals he brings and falling prey to his "game." This is a 'game' I don't want to learn because no one should be treated like they're a chess piece.

I need feminism because not pursuing my MRS degree should be alright. I don't want to feel guilty for wanting my own career or doing what I love instead of getting drunk in some fraternity house basement. I shouldn't be interrogated the moment I walk through the door about who I'm dating (or most likely not dating).

But most of all, I need feminism because these thoughts shouldn't be going through my head. If I had a Y chromosome, these thoughts would be irrelevant and unnecessary. Because I should have enough confidence in myself to succeed without having to rely on a man. So this blog is about having the confidence to wake up alone and proving I'm an independent woman who don't need no man.

[marvelsmisress]

I'm really upset. I've bee reading the woman's issues book Cunt and it is just amazing. I would recommend it to any woman out there. And any curious man. I live in New York and I am happy to say I have a rather nice sized woman's issues section. And next to it is gay and lesbian studies that is also a good size. I'm in Florida right now in the same chain bookstore and I spent 15 minutes looking for a woman's issue section until I finally broke and asked someone. She lead me all the way into the back and pointed at the bottom shelf and left. I bent down to see a small shelf of woman's issues and feminist books. Most were the same copy of a book and a few were gay/lesbian erotica (I have no problem with that- hell I write it) but I was so disappointed to see such a small amount of books. I managed to find one I liked called Sexy Feminism. I guess each store stocks up on what the people want, and I guess very few people want to learn about feminism.