I was a Teenage Feminist

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Michigan GOP goes to the gutter, sends mailer asking people to call Dem candidate's mother who is in hospice care

This story is beyond disgusting. The Michigan Republican Party has mailed out a hit piece on John Fisher the Democratic candidate for Michigan’s 61st House district. The mailer asks the recipient to call a phone number to complain about Fisher’s support of the Affordable Care Act. The number they give rings at the bedside of Fisher’s mother, 91-year-old Isabel Marie Kramb, who is in hospice care with congestive heart failure.

More classy actions from right here in Michigan. You go Republicans! Disrupt this woman with your lies in her final days! 

Filed under Michigan politics republicans democrats Michigan politics

7 notes

Best RSO ever!! Our discussion tonight was about what a post-patrarchy would look like. What do you think post-patrarchy would look like? #feminism

Best RSO ever!! Our discussion tonight was about what a post-patrarchy would look like. What do you think post-patrarchy would look like? #feminism

Filed under feminism

46 notes

The first time I fell in love I was 14 
He didn’t love me back. 
I found out later that he couldn’t. 
It broke my heart. 

The second time I fell in love it was much different. 
It was faster, like a roller coaster. 
Cliche I know. 
It took me two weeks to “know”
This time he loved me back. 
He told me in the way his lips touched mine. 
In the text messages 
"I’m falling for you" 
In the way he carefully drove when I was in the car 
WIth the radio turned down
When he let me win in bowling, but never admitted it. 
Because he knew radical feminist me would be mad at him. 

Read more …

Filed under love surviors of suicide suicide Marie Tries to Write it Out

582 notes

I promised my friend I would write a poem for her.
She laughed and replied, “Nobody wants to read a poem about a girl
who was raped
and didn’t fight back.
Didn’t tell a soul for 6 years
and let the bastards roam free.”

She might be right.

Instead I will write about the girl who grew up with hippie turned conservative Christian parents.
How her home went from free-thinking and pot
to ties and bible verses.

I’ll tell about the time she was 9 and thought she had wings
because she hit the ramp with such speed
her bicycle flipped
And though tears streamed down her cheeks
and a bright blue cast was newly cemented onto her left arm
she whispered to her father:
“I can fly, Daddy, I can soar!”

How when she was 14 and kissed a girl for the first time, she flew again.
If you ask her about it, she’ll give you a wry smile and say, “There was no cherry chapstick, but it was still pretty great.”
How she tried to tell her Mom
who answered by bringing a finger to her lips
and hurriedly whispering
“Never again, mi hija. Hush now. Never again.”

I’ll talk about her great day,
when she won the scholarship essay contest at her school.
After reading it at aloud at the assembly,
she looked up to see her Father leading the standing ovation,
tears shining in his eyes.

She describes this as the best day of her life.

She turned 17,
and her Dad caught her kissing a girl in the rec room.
His hands shook as he threw a suitcase at her
and bellowed the words “abomination” and “sin”.

She would want me to write
that she flipped them the bird,
grabbed her guitar,
and hit the road.

Instead, I will tell the truth.

That she sobbed and begged and pleaded and swore that she would change if she could only have another chance
but the ice king did not melt.
That she calls home every Thursday
just to hear her Mother’s voice sing like wind chimes through the phone.
That she sends a Christmas card every year, signed “Love you more”.

I promised my friend I would write a poem about her, and I think it’s important for you to know
that after 2 men got her drunk and carried her into their cab
she started sleeping with shoes on
chugs vodka from the bottle
and shatters like glass when you try to hold her.

I told her that someone might want to read this,
to know they’re not alone.
That she might
find the sky again.

She laughed, took a pull of whiskey, and replied -

"Tell them not to fly,
because it’s a bitch to make the ground your home again.”

once, she flew. (via baristabitching)

9 notes

iamayoungfeminist:

My cat is sick and I have to give her an antibiotic for 30 days. It’s liquid and it’s supposed to taste like chicken but she hates it.  

She doesn’t sleep with me anymore. 

Also I’m really really not feeling good and don’t really have anyone to talk about it with. I know I have followers who are always like “I’m here if you want to talk!” but I don’t really feel comfortable discussing my suicidal ideation over tumblr message.   

9 notes

My cat is sick and I have to give her an antibiotic for 30 days. It’s liquid and it’s supposed to taste like chicken but she hates it.  

She doesn’t sleep with me anymore. 

Filed under sad cats