These past two weeks have been completely life altering for me. I am leaving my job at Market Basket after nearly 3 years of hating it. I had all 4 of my impacted wisdom teeth removed. I applied for a job at PetSmart and was hired on the spot. I went for an interview for a Graduate Assistant Marketing Position for Quinnipiac University Online, where I am currently taking classes for my Master’s Degree, and received the call that I have been chosen for this job as well. I am moving in with my boyfriend in Connecticut, which is two states away, and trying to start a new chapter of my life. Boy, has this been a crazy experience. I am scared, excited, nervous, depressed, and anxious to see what happens.
I guess this is growing up.
Beginning a new chapter of my life, and it’s scary and exciting at the same time. I’m curious to see how things turn out within the next few months, and I hope everything goes well.
Big changes ahead. Eik.
The fact that this is a part of Cory’s last ever scene of dialogue on Glee will never not get me:
I don’t even watch glee, and this hurts.
we think we’re made of numbers. percentages on tests, pounds on a scale, likes on a photo, price tags on clothes. but we’re not. we are made of love and happiness and they way we laugh. we’re made of good memories and late nights and past-curfews. we have more substance than numbers.
this post is really important
It is disgusting. We are told to love sex but never masturbate or fool around. To love our bodies but we have to be hairless, thin, have boobs, and to never wear make up to cover our flaws. We can like sports and watch them but we can’t play them unless they are toned down and pretty enough to be oggled at. We can be nerds but we can’t be TOO smart or we forget our place. We are told we need a prince charming and to seek him out by constantly changing ourselves and being perfect for him. We are given the message that outside beauty is what matters the most but if we have it and get successful it was because we have a pretty face. We are told we exaggerate and should just go with it when we complain of being objects and property. We are taught that being a woman is worthy of an insult… WE have to fear walking at night. WE have to go in a group if we need to use the bathroom in a strange place. WE have to be cautious of where we are and who we are with. That we are told to hush and get over it if we are assaulted because real life isn’t like the crime shows and it is harder to convict the assaulter. That female artists are degraded and yelled at in artist alleys. That you are judged just by how you wear a t-shirt.
Just got my new #Cosmopolitan magazine in the mail… but I have homework due for my online class… #problems
Taking applications for friends.
Must enjoy food, shopping, and not be a bitch.
That’s pretty much it.
Here’s the thing. Men in our culture have been socialized to believe that their opinions on women’s appearance matter a lot. Not all men buy into this, of course, but many do. Some seem incapable of entertaining the notion that not everything women do with their appearance is for men to look at. This is why men’s response to women discussing stifling beauty norms is so often something like “But I actually like small boobs!” and “But I actually like my women on the heavier side, if you know what I mean!” They don’t realize that their individual opinion on women’s appearance doesn’t matter in this context, and that while it might be reassuring for some women to know that there are indeed men who find them fuckable, that’s not the point of the discussion.
Women, too, have been socialized to believe that the ultimate arbiters of their appearance are men, that anything they do with their appearance is or should be “for men.” That’s why women’s magazines trip over themselves to offer up advice on “what he wants to see you wearing” and “what men think of these current fashion trends” and “wow him with these new hairstyles.” While women can and do judge each other’s appearance harshly, many of us grew up being told by mothers, sisters, and female strangers that we’ll never “get a man” or “keep a man” unless we do X or lose some fat from Y, unless we moisturize//trim/shave/push up/hide/show/”flatter”/paint/dye/exfoliate/pierce/surgically alter this or that.
That’s also why when a woman wears revealing clothes, it’s okay, in our society, to assume that she’s “looking for attention” or that she’s a slut and wants to sleep with a bunch of guys. Because why else would a woman wear revealing clothes if not for the benefit of men and to communicate her sexual availability to them, right? It can’t possibly have anything to do with the fact that it’s hot out or it’s more comfortable or she likes how she looks in it or everything else is in the laundry or she wants to get a tan or maybe she likes women and wants attention from them, not from men?
The result of all this is that many men, even kind and well-meaning men, believe, however subconsciously, that women’s bodies are for them. They are for them to look at, for them to pass judgment on, for them to bless with a compliment if they deign to do so. They are not for women to enjoy, take pride in, love, accept, explore, show off, or hide as they please. They are for men and their pleasure.