Looking at my old tumblr posts from a year ago frightens me. I was such an angry and bitter person. I still am to a certain extent, but I think I’ve gained more self-control than I had in the past. People that I was rude to or unpleasant to at any time in the past, I apologize. That was my own insecurities and anger lashing out at you. And truly, I now believe everyone deserves to be happy including myself and I won’t let my enmity get in the way of that anymore. Sometimes you have to be brutally honest with yourself to find your flaws so you can work on them. That is what I’ve been trying to do for the past two years, but now I believe I’ve grown out of this inchoative state my life has been in and am finally on track to being the person I have always known I truly was deep down. No more stagnating.
“I suspect it’s difficult for men to imagine a world in which their bodies have long been inextricably linked to their value as an individual, and that no matter how encouraging your parents were or how many positive female role models you had or how self-confident you feel, there is an ever-present pressure that creeps in from all sides, whispering in your ear that you are your body and your body defines you. A world where, from the time of pubescence on, you can feel the constant and palpable weight of the male gaze, and not just from your male peers but from teachers and sports coaches and the fathers of the children you baby-sit, people you’re supposed to respect and trust and look up to, and that first realization that you are being looked at in that way is the beginning of a self-consciousness that you will be unable to shake for the rest of your life.
Even if they are never verbalized, the rules of bodily conduct for females become clear early on: when school administrators reprimand you for the inch of midriff that shows when you lift your hands straight in the air or youth group leaders tell you that the sight of your unintentional cleavage is what causes godly young men to fall, you learn that your body is dangerous and shameful and that it’s your responsibility to cloister it in a way that is acceptable to everyone else. You learn that your body is a topic of public debate that everyone is entitled to weigh in on, from a male classmate telling you that those jeans make your ass look huge to the male-dominated United States Congress dictating the parameters that rape must fall within to be considered legitimate. To be a woman, and to live life in a woman’s body, is to be held to a set of comically paradoxical standards that make you constantly second-guess yourself and jump through a million hoops in pursuit of an impossible perfection.”—Stop Catcalling Me | Thought Catalog (via ceedling)