Cherry Blossom – my life without you sucks

Oh CBL.
WHEREFORE ART THOU, CBL?!

I miss you.

Advertisements

Feminism Was Never About Choice

I’ll never be a choosy-choice feminist. My choices under the patriarchy are limited by my very existence. I’m female. I was a girl. I’m now a woman. And my choices have never been free.

When the suffragettes fought for our right to vote, it wasn’t about choice. It was about changing the status quo to allow ALL adult voices to be heard. It challenged the very core of a patriarchy which insisted that women were less-than, property of their husbands and fathers, best kept quiet and in the home, to raise children and be fucked.

When second-wavers fought for the right to make decisions on behalf of our own bodies, it wasn’t about choice. It was about challenging the still intact status quo that women were property. It challenged the patriarchal institutions of Government, Medicine and Religion to recognise that women are their own, and only they must make decisions about their health and reproductive abilities.

Patriarchy, mildly affected by these movements, still remains very much intact. Third-wave feminism seems to have forgotten patriarchy altogether, and simply views feminism as the right for women to choose what they want to do without recognising females as an oppressed class.

I realise this is sounding very Feminism 101 right about now, but the message is still not getting across. Women are not equal.

Where there are laws which intend to help make us so, there still remains beliefs, ideologies, and structures in place which prevent those laws from being adhered to and enforced.

Where there are “equal opportunities” in the workplace, we are still being schooled from a very early age in the fine art of gender, which ends up keeping women out of the majority of traditional “men’s work” while at the same time brainwashing us to believe that we’ve “chosen” those jobs which are less important, less high-paying, etc.

Where we have laws protecting our hard-won rights to protect ourselves from dangerous physical conditions such as pregnancy, those laws are being chipped away at by the kinds of people who still retain those patriarchal thoughts and beliefs, and who hold power within the structures which either uphold or negate those laws.

With all of the known damage that the sex industry causes to women, our male-centred media is constantly reinforcing that these “jobs”, which some women “choose”, are actually empowering, instead of insisting on the protection of women and children from the pay-to-rape industry which strengthens men’s belief in their own entitlement to the bodies of women and children.

When the scope of choice is so narrow because of economic and social systems and widely-held beliefs that reinforce female subordination, how can this ever be called “choice” at all?!

Choice implies that most or all avenues are available to explore, and in a world under patriarchy, for women, this is ludicrous.

Liberal Feminism cannot widen the scope of choice for women when it continues to deny that women as a class are oppressed in almost every aspect of life under patriarchy, and that their choices are in no way equal to those of men.

Feminism is about LIBERATING WOMEN, from men, from the patriarchy, from the structures which keep them oppressed and incapable of any real choice, not telling us that our available options are somehow empowering to choose, and insisting that we ought to be grateful for the scraps.

Elizabeth Hungerford: Sex is Not Gender

GenderTrender

sex-on-brain

CounterPunch WEEKEND EDITION AUGUST 2-4, 2013

There is No War

Sex is Not Gender

by ELIZABETH HUNGERFORD

Samantha Allen’s article, “Counterpunch and the War on Transgender People,” published in the Jacobin on July 10, 2013 and then republished on Salon the next day under the title “The hate group masquerading as feminists,” contains many emotionally-charged adjectives and strongly-worded assertions, but it is remarkably short on analysis and understanding. There is no war. As a gender critical feminist and an attorney, I have been analyzing the legal and medical conflation of gender with sex for years. The articles authored by Julian Vigo and published in CounterPunch last month are not “reactionary” or demonizing of trans people, as Jacobin’s editorial staff erroneously believes.  Jacobin and Salon have both been used as proxies for hate speech against gender critical feminists and, unlike Counterpunch’s balanced ethos, neither publication acknowledges that…

View original post 1,520 more words

Feminine Hygiene Wash is Patriarchal BS (or Why Your Cunt Smells Weird)

**contains fairly vivid descriptions of hetero intercourse**

You know what really fucking bugs me?
Feminine hygiene wash.

Moreso now than ever before, that shit really gets to me. And I’ll tell you why.

Now I don’t mean to get all cliché radical feminist on you, but my reading and studies of radical feminist literature, as well as reading feminist blogs online, has contributed to a dormant need within me to remove myself sexually from men. I’ve actually gone so far as to leave the “love of my life” in order to pursue a sabbatical of celibacy, away from men, surrounded by women, in order to best understand who I am without attachment to a man.

And I’ve noticed something:
The only time my cunt has ever smelled unpleasant is when I have had unprotected hetero sex and the man has ejaculated inside me.

Any man. No matter the makeup of his ejaculate. Sure, I’ve had guys who’ve made me smell worse than others have, but the fact remains that in the 48 hours after sex (at least ) my cunt smells noticeably, unnaturally stinky, no matter how much I clean myself immediately after, nor how much I wash during that time.

Enter **Feminine Hygiene Wash**. For your extra smelly areas, ladies, you know which ones we mean hurr durr.

Good thing I’ve seen blogs and articles talking about how smelling “down there” is natural and we’re being sold shit we don’t need by capitalist patriarchy, now they’ve invented a special kind of pad for “crotch sweat” for when you exercise, it’s just like everything else, ladies, don’t let them convince you you’re gross, blah blah blah.

The thing is, I’ve been more aware of how I smell “down there” since ceasing PIV intercourse, and you know what?! I smell pretty fucking great. Not so great that I wanna bottle it and sell it as Paris Hilton Essensual or anything*, but still, I can tell I smell like I’m supposed to smell. Even on depressed days/weeks when I don’t shower, I still smell normal. Nothing like those 48 hours after PIV.

Am I using feminine hygiene wash to keep me smelling like roses? No! What I’m not doing is letting some guy ejaculate semen into my vagina which, due to evolution, is designed to hold a bunch of it and not let go, even when the rest of my body and hormones say “Give it up, we’re not trying to get pregnant!”

In short:
We’re awesome as we are. Then they come along, tell us we’re only good for one thing, prove it by fucking us and dumping a bunch of smelly bodily fluids into us, and then complain that we smell bad, and invent some shitty soaps and deoderants to mask the smell so they can get back to fucking us sooner, without the unpleasant odours. Rinse, fucking repeat.

Feminine Hygiene Wash sure as fuck feels like the tip of this particular iceberg of misogyny and the shitty way that men treat women. Make us smell, express dismay that we aren’t good for sex (read: anything) anymore, then make us feel like there’s something wrong with us if we don’t take responsibility and do something about said smell. We feel guilty, use the needless product which masks the smell they inflicted upon us, and then they go back to convincing us to accept the whole sordid lot all over again.

Don’t buy it, my darlings. Not just the feminine hygiene wash (which I bought a total of once in my entire life, over ten years ago) but the whole fucking lot of it. And if you do happen to continue PIV and your man complains about how you smell “down there”, punch him in the face and remind him what’s making it smell.

*I am not Paris Hilton incognito, btw