how exhausted I am from constantly having to deal with violent men and the aftermaths of violent men and from supporting other women who have survived their own violent men and by living in a world where when I call the cops to report a sexual assault they tell me its not right but not criminal and maybe if it happens

EIGHT TIMES IN THREE DAYS

then maybe we’ll have a case

and of getting kicked out of bars for punching some man in the face because he wouldn’t stop hitting me (no, not hitting on me— actually physically hitting me) and nobody would do something about him, but they’ll do something about me

And I am so fucking tired of being around men who have the audacity to look me in the eye

I am tired of no apologies and no owning up and straight up lies. I’m tired of male privilege

I am tired of ignoring cat calls or defending myself against cat calls and that its always a battle you fight alone 

I am tired of wearing sweat pants and sunglasses in Toronto so that I don’t get that dirty second glance

I am tired of every woman being raped

I am tired of talking to women about the hundreds of little assaults that happen every day that create a life where PTSD is the norm. PTSD. A disorder seen in soldiers who have seen theatres of war, slaughter house workers, and most women. Except in women its hysteria or over sensitivity or borderline personality disorder or PMS

Which by the way

I am VERY TIRED of having to silently endure crippling cramps, extreme lethargy, wild mood-swings all the while grinning and bearing it so that men don’t feel uncomfortable because its gross and who can trust an animal that bleeds out once a month and doesn’t die

Which is so ironic because so many of us die. Isn’t the most common murder scenario the one where the husband kills his wife? Did he learn it on TV or in horror movies where they flash gore porn titty shot gore porn ass shot slice and dice until her shirt comes off bra comes off skin comes off…Why is that sexy and who is even making these connections? There are no women writing these scripts

or any scripts, really. We are not, literally or figuratively, running the show. We can’t get jobs and my friend is naming her daughter something ambiguous so that if she grows up and wants to run for prime minister or run a corporation or be in charge of anything that matters her resume will get a second glance. She won’t have a Lola, she will have a Chase or Bo some other so-called “boys” name instead.

I’m tired of Toys R Us having pink everything and blue everything so everyone knows who is who. I’m tired of ordering a Happy Meal at McDonalds and being asked if I want the boy toy or the girl toy, like what the fuck does that even imply THE TOYS ARE ALIEN CARTOON CHARACTERS.

I’m tired of pro-life ads on the backs of city buses as if that shit is fucking appropriate, because until I start seeing ads for EFFECTIVE AND WELL FUNDED women’s shelters and support networks, and for affordable and high-quality day care, and for counselling and mental health resources that don’t have a 3 year waiting list or a price tag of $14,000 (YES FOURTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS), and for women-focused employment centres that help provide well-paying, enjoyable and fulfilling work with decent hours, and for community centres where everyone can come together to raise happy, healthy, and well-cared for children, and where the government is willing to shoulder the financial burden of raising a kid I DON’T THINK ITS APPROPRIATE TO SHAME WOMEN FOR GETTING ABORTIONS. 

AND

I’m tired of trying to explain these things to men and having them get mad and upset and defensive because ITS NOT THEM, AND ITS NOT TRUE, AND THEY HAVE IT HARD TOO. Honestly, fuck that and fuck them because I am so far from giving a shit about sensitive boys who get their feelings hurt because I’m forcing them to consider for a moment that just benefiting from the domineering, abusive, violent, oppressive, homocidal psychopathy of the patriarchy is dangerous to my well-being. So until I can feel assured that if any man were to ask how I’m feeling and I were to respond by telling them that I’m having a hard fucking time coping with a society that ensures that all men hate women at least little bit (and probably a lot) that they would say “You’re right and I apologize. Is there anything I can do to support you?” then I’m reserving the right to assume that every single guy is a potential THREAT TO MY WELL BEING.

Also, I’m tired of signing onto Facebook to see photos like this:

which has 440 likes and counting and I’m trying to figure out what a well-built, blonde haired, blue eyed male-bodied person knows about being Barbie and what bullshit she would have to deal with on a day-to-day basis for being big breasted and tall and beautiful and objectified.

And I’m tired of not being able to go on the internet anymore because I feel as though its a constant bombardment of problematic images, suggestions, ads, political articles and news flashes that remind me over and over that THERE ARE NO SAFE SPACES.

ET CETERA ET CETERA