Remember:

Being a flexible parent that accepts all genders doesn't just mean buying your girl monster trucks and tshirts, letting her wear blue and not pink, and getting her play in the dirt.

It also includes accepting and letting you son wear pink, dresses, and play with dolls.

There is a very large double standard on this.  I've grown up a tomboy.  I was always a tomboy, from infancy.  It's just me.  But, aside from a lot of teasing, I was never really told no by anyone.  My parents don't mind.  But my boyfriend wants to get his ears pierced or paint his nails, and it's a big deal.  Boys aren't even allowed to pierce their ears in ROTC, but girls can.  It doesn't have to be gender dysphoria feelings.  Boys get their ears pierced and wear pink.  It shouldn't be a big deal anymore.  Yet it is.  We, as a society, are very afraid of boys being feminine.

Keep an open mind.  You will make this world a better place.

Rape Is Not A Joke - Protect Women's Rights.

Triggering warning for rape and suicide.

The door knob clicks open and her heart begins to race.  He enters the room, and her mind begs and pleads to escape.  If it meant death, he’s accept it right now.  She’d even enjoy it, with her only other option being…him.
    He is sure to close the door behind him.  She looks for an escape, her body pressing up against the bed frame.  She wrapped her blanket around her, scanning the room.  She knew it was hopeless, knew that the windows were latched, that he would just back her into a corner, somehow.  He was a good planner, and knew exactly the nights her mom wouldn’t be home to hear her cry.
      He advances, and she wonders how long she could fight him off.  Her mom won’t be getting done with work for at least 2 more hours - could she struggle that long?  How painful is a blow to the groin?
     As he advances, she jumps off the bed, pure adrenaline racing through her veins and she darts to the other side of the room.  But he is faster - he’s always faster - and within 30 seconds, she’s pinned to the bed under his massive weight, head banging the head board on the way down.  Her desperate attempts to keep herself upright are no match for 200 pounds of muscle, and she is momentarily silenced by the throbbing in the back of her skull.
      The pants come off first, her toes catching the the folds of her fabric in a desperate attempt to keep her clothes on as she kicks.  Her shirt rips as he yanks it from her grasp, tears soaking her face faster and faster.  Her under clothes peel off and she knows this is it, this is her last chance.  She’s seeing everything, every insecurity, every pound he’s tried to beat off of her skin.  She screams, her voice and blood curdling echo of her terror, causing his fist to collide with her teeth.  She screams again, this time from pain, and he crashes his knuckles into her rib cage.
     She finally goes limp, her body violated in the worse way.  Her will has drained from her essence, leaking all over the sheets and evaporating into nothing.  Pain devours her being, shooting through her body like thousand tiny daggers stabbing into her.  Emotional and physical agony mix and swirl behind her eyelids and she whimpered and sobs.  His hands touched and explored everywhere a father’s shouldn’, where no man should ever touch his daughter.  And she knew that this had to end.
        She had to die.  Soon.  She felt so dirty, so used and ruined, beyond repair.  Something that should have been meaningful had been darkened and taken away from her, charged with anger, hate, pain, and force.  She knew that she could never be whole again.  She thought she could never enjoy life - not after this.
     And so she began to plan, her only comfort to the agony.  She began to fantasize about the caress of the rope on her neck, the kiss of the blade on her pale skin.  It was her only redeption, softer than her father’s kiss can ever been, laced with more comfort than he could ever hold.
      The pain seemed never-ending.  By the time he was finished with her, she was bloody and bruised in more places than one, leaking father-inflicted pain.
     He got up, zipping up his zipper.  He seemed so calm and collected.  How can he be like that?  She wondered.  In the face of what he just did, hos can he not be breaking down inside, how can he not be scarred…
     He leaned over and whispered the words than sealed the deal, “If you ever tell a soul about this, you will be dead faster than you can blink your eyes, and so will your little sister.”  And then he was gone, leaving her in the blackness of her misery.

******

 It only takes her 7 weeks to really notice the disturbance in her normal body.  The only blood she has shed in the last 7 weeks has been self-inflicted - her period has all but disappeared.  Distraught, she sneaks out, going to the drug store.  It’s midnight, and the man at the counter gives her evil eyes and she slides the pregnancy test across the counter.  She knows exactly what he’s thinking - that she’s a whore.  A slut.  That she deserves it for not being more careful.  She’s been on birth control since she was 10 - “to regulate her periods” - but it was really for her dad’s safety.  And now, and she crouches down in the toilet, heart erratic and she waits, she knows that it has failed her.  So many times, so many tears, so much pain…and the control has failed her.  And now what is she to do?  Thirteen years old, carrying her father’s hate inside her stomach.  What will she do with it?  She can’t keep it.  She can barely keep herself alive.  Maybe - maybe it is best to die alongside the baby.  Then no one will call me a murderer.  No one will have to know.  She can beat her dad at his own game.  She won’t even leave a note - then her sister will be safe.  Her precious sister.  He won’t touch her - even at 12, she’s much more developed, and he doesn’t fancy her. -   

******

This story is no one’s story and so many people’s story.  This story is a small snippet of the pain and rape victim feels day to day.  This is a insight into what it’s like to really live in hell.  And there are some people that would have her keep this baby.  When she cannot even sustain herself.  Some people would have her carry the scars of her abuse forever.  Some people would let that baby know, some day - that even if it’s mother wants it know, it was born in the cruelest way.  It was unwanted and unplanned.  No baby needs that life.  No girl needs to become a mother on those circumstances.  Protect women’s right to choice.

Why I Am Going To Stop Using The Word Perfect.

Perfection is a putting someone up on a pedestal.  Perfection, although meant with good intentions (usually) is saying that a person has no flaws.

This, by human nature, is contradictory.  People have flaws, and people make mistakes.  By calling someone perfect, you are insinuating that they cannot make mistakes.  So then, when the person you’re calling perfect does make a mistake, they feel somehow like that was wrong.  Like they shouldn’t make mistakes, because they need to keep up your perception of them as perfect or flawless.  The person can feel trapped and cornered by unrealistic expectations made with one word.

And one person’s flaw is another person’s pride.  Some people like their freckles/dimples/scars, some don’t.  Sometimes you won’t like your crooked teeth or hair color, but your partner or friend will think that *insert physical characteristic here* is cute.  The same goes for emotional characteristics.  I mean somethings, no one LIKES, but I think neediness is one of those things that varies so much that one partner may reciprocate your almost over-affection, one may back off because of it.  It’s just people.  Different people fit together in different ways.  All of your flaws and what your proud of, every bit of your body makes you who you are.  

But perfection is an unfair word.  You are allowed to make mistakes.  You are allowed to fall, to screw up, to cry, to be in pain, to do things accidentally, to have a bad relationship, to not always be right.  But you ARE good enough.  Just because you are not perfect, doesn’t mean you can’t be a wonderful human being.

This is just how I feel.  I am reading a lot into a word, but I have a really big issue with unfairly idealizing people and unfairly hating people.  For me, it’s black and white.  Love or hate.  Adoration or contempt.  And I wish to stop being so intense.

Eating Disorder Statistics

Anorexia nervosa is the most deadly of ANY mental illness.

About 50% perfect of people with anorexia will die in a year.

Prolonged starvation can cause malnutrition, dangerously low blood pressure, osteoporosis, damage to the kidneys and liver, and heart failure.

Karen Carpender died of anorexia/heart failure at the age of 32. 

Since the 1950s, anorexia has been increasing by 36% percent.

About 8 million people suffer from anorexia and bulimia.

People ages 15-24 are most at risk.

Models tend to be 25% lighter than America's average weight.

Pant size 12-18 is considered a "plus size" model.

3 out of every 100 girls will develop bulimia or anorexia.

Bulimics and anorexics tend to be perfectionists, people overly-worried with doing things right, people who worry about consequences of their actions very much, and people who need control.

Recovered anorexics and bulimics were found to have an unusually high amount of seratonin.  Over excess of seratonin goes along with obsessive/anxious behaviors and reduces appetite.  

People on diets or starving themselves may be trying to reduces their intense anxieties.

Nearly 50% of patients will relapse in the first year, but studies show that if the ideal weight was reached before release from the hospital, these statistics could decline. 

Sexual abuse is not uncommon among people that are eating disordered people.

Jockies and weightlifters have highers levels of anorexia.

Starvation can shut down estrogen, which IRREVERSIBLY takes away your bone mass and also makes you stop having periods.

After 15 years of starvation, your bones can have the mass of a 70 year old women.

Some anorexics eat plenty of food but engage in strenuous exercise.

Many anorexics, as children, had high rates of anxiety.

80% of women are dissatisfied with their bodies.

Girls as young as 9 or 10 are dieting even though they are normal weights.

Depression often accompanies EDs.

Usually, as you eat, a small amount of food will start to be released into the small intestine, which releases CCK, which tells your brain that you are full.  Engaging in binge behaviors for a long amount of time makes the stomach release CCK slower, and makes the message to the brain to stop eating much weaker.

Polyamory

I decided to stop begin lazy and do it now.

I guess I will begin with this: I have been wading my way through the polyamorus culture, which I find beyond interesting, if not for me.  I’m monogamous, because that’s just the kind of person I am.  When I have eyes for someone, my heart centers to them and them alone.  But for some people, open relationships work.  This comes in many different forms, but this blog has a lot of basics, and is basically where I first began to realize these kind of relationships existed.  All her posts about polyamory can be found here.  

Leave your opinions at the beginning of this post, and I’ll begin:

Polyamory is not being a “slut” or sleeping around.  There’s different decisions to make within the relationship, but that is a personal preferences.  Some people are a group - the three or four of you all date, etc.  Some people stay within that group, some people look for relations outside of the group.  Sometimes you have a single boyfriend/girlfriend that you are dating, but you have sexual relations with other people, but don’t date them.  It just depends on the people involved and their feelings.  

Some people need or prefer to have their needs met with multiple people.  Maybe there is just this one special thing that a certain person does, that gets you off differently, that gives you different pleasure.  I have a very small frame of reference since polyamory is EXTREMELY taboo in this culture, but I know that some people actually enjoy and feel very romantically attached to the idea of going out, doing sexual things, and coming home to the one you love, the one who fulfills the 90% of your needs there waiting for you. 

But the children!  We must let our kids remain ignorant and innocent!  No, you don’t.  Not only is it completely fine and dandy to teach children that polyamory exists, there’s also nothing wrong with raising a child in what is basically just a bigger family setting.  If you are not constantly so drunk/stoned you can’t articulate correctly, beating your children, neglecting your children, neglecting educating your children, or not giving them enough love, it shouldn’t matter the amount of partners or the sex of the partners, if you intend for them to be long-term.  So kids may fell confused by switching partners as young children, but that could change.  Plus, there is nothing un-innocent about being educated.

Are bisexuals more likely to be polyamorous? Eyeroll.  No.  Sexual orientation doesn’t have anything to do with being monogamous or poly-amorous, although that would be a situation where maybe those are the “needs” that some people feel better having met.

How can you love more than one person at once? Now, you see, there is NOTHING wrong with loving one person, and there is nothing wrong with loving two.  Do you love both your parents, multiple friends?  Ever loved an ex while still beginning a new relationship?

But isn’t polyamory just an excuse to cheat?  First and foremost, I think the best definition of cheating is simply, “Doing something behind your lover’s back that they are unaware of.” If it’s okay with you for your partner to flirt or maybe even kiss someone’s cheek, that’s a-ok.  If it’s not, then, in that particular relationship, it’s considered cheating.  So basically, polyamory is just widening the boundaries.  instead of hugs and light flirting being okay, sex, romance, and dates with other people are.  Everything is consensual, between both or all people involved.  If you go behind someone in the group’s back, then yes, that would be cheating.  Cheating can exist in polyamorous relationships, as can jealousy, like it can with ANY relationship, but it is not a breeding ground of jealously.  If you’re polyamorous, you’re probably pretty comfortable with the idea of you and your lovers sharing bodies.

Isn’t it unsafe?  STDs, ew.  Okay, this actually really amuses me.  If you are sleeping with multiple people and putting your mouths on multiple genitalia, why the  HELL wouldn’t you be extra safe?  I’m sure these people are hyper-aware of the dangers of pregnancy, STDs, STIs, etc.  There are many forms of contraceptives.

But the bible says _____” I’m going to stop you there.  I in no way want to BASH religion, but I feel like this is something I need to add.  I’m sure there are polyamorous Christians somewhere.  I also don’t think that the morals and indoctrination of one religion (or even a few.) should be applied to EVERYONE.  If you personally wish to have a monogamous relationship PURELY because you feel that to do otherwise is wrong, go for it.  You have that freedom, and that’s awesome and fine and great.  But also, government and laws should not be mixed with church/religion.  Feel free to practice your religion and your beliefs, but let others practice theirs as well.  It is in no way unethical to want to love multiple people, so try and open your minds a little bit.

I’m writing out of steam and things to write about.  I’m googled polyamory arguments for and against.  So..

Here are some videos and blog posts about polyamory and such. (I’ll add to this later…)

Laci Green’s explanation.

Be An Ally

This goes to anyone that is the majority group.  Of anything, really, but especially with sexuality and gender.  It’s not good to generalize cis or straight people, but if you want the respect of gay, lesbian, and trans*/queer people, you have to educate yourself and be an ally.  

Sometimes it’s hard to get educated about trans* matters, because there isn’t as much light shined on gender as there is on sexuality. But here is a list of things to get you started:

A list of gender terms is here: [link]

A trans 101 is here: [link]

A quick etiquette lesson when talking to a trans person (what not to say/ask) can be seen here: [link] and here: [link]

Also, I just skimmed through this, but here is a wiki article about gender reassignment surgery. It’s generally offensive/intrusive to ask someone about their genitals, so if you’re honestly curious, here is a little info on surgery, and how it works: [link]
This is a pretty good resource on hormones, and how they work: [link] I can’t really find any great ones resources on that now, sorry guys.

What If I'd Been Born A Boy

Gotten a Y chromosome instead of another X?  

It's weird thinking that my life could have, essentially, been completely different.  Would I still like boys?  Boy clothing?  Would I be a feminine boy, a masculine boy, a straight boy, a gay boy?  I probably would have had a lot more of my dad's love and respect.  What if I was all dad needed?  What if our family held together, because he got the boy he wanted for years and years?  Got the sports-y, dog lover that I was, minus the penis.  But what if it got worse?  What if dad beat on me harder, because I was a boy?  Demanded more of me?  Hit the life out of me, until I attempted suicide my slicing apart my chest, like my cousin did.

       But, I think that on a deeper level, my family-oriented emotional trauma would be the same regardless of whether I was born a boy or girl.  I suffered because of my mom's choices, basically.  And I mean, I was born because of those choices, too, but still.  

What about my more personal life?  I mostly only had male friends in Elementary.  Do boys get complimented on their looks more?  Are they wired to care?  If I weighed what I weigh and was a boy, how would I feel about myself?  If I was a dorky, curly-haired, overweight boy..my god.

But say, I had led basically the same life, just, with a penis.  What about Conner and I?  what if I had this huge crush on a straight boy, and I was a gay boy?  Zaih and I?  Would she still have pulled me into that magnetic field of damage, but with romantic intentions?  

Shattered.

A broken, shattered me.  That’s what I am.  It’s as though the fundamental ME, my personality. My emotions, they have all splintered or broken off.  At the center, what holds me together, is numbness and a constant mild sadness.  Insomnia that keeps me up until the darkest hour.  The anger, even, it’s shut down, broken.  My bravery is lessened.  And it can surface, bit when it does, I am alone and isolated with that emotion.  It is in control, and I become impulsive.  If I’m happy, I tend to make plans I don’t want to follow through with, sometimes to do silly things with my friends.  When I’m worried, I’ll get a panic attack.  Gut-wrenching fear.  When I’m upset, I want  to hurt.  Bleed.  Die.  Because all I can feel and comprehend is my current emotion.