I don’t want to be a feminist anymore. Like a five-year-old, I want to close my eyes, stick my fingers in my ears, stomp my feet on the floor and scream “No! No, you cannot make me, I won’t, leave me alone!” I am, simply put, too tired. So very, very tired.

I am tired of fighting with my friends. I am tired of arguing that someone groping and slapping my butt isn’t “what I have to expect”, just because I’m at a bar, and the one attacking my butt has a drink in the other hand. I am tired of hearing “boys will be boys” and “when you’re dressed like that …” and “that’s just what guys do”. I am tired of trying to drown those sentiments in loud, repetitive no’s, screamed over and over again, till my throat is sore and my voice weak – just to hear them repeated, as soon as exhaustion threatens to silence me.

I am tired of being afraid. I am tired of seeing someone writing something offensive, sexist, racist, ageist, ableist, somewhere online. I am tired of seeing those writings getting likes and lol’s, and SO TRUE’s. I am tired of being consumed by confusion and anger, typing, typing, typing and typing a seemingly endless response, including research, links and statistics, and then hesitate clicking “submit”. I am tired of knowing that I hesitate because I am afraid of the flood of responses that will come. I am tired of knowing that I will be bombarded with lighten up’s, stop whining’s and get a sense of humor’s for so long, that I will start to wonder if I am indeed wound up too tight, a nagger and humorless. I am tired of the fact that I’m afraid of being called a cunt, even though I don’t find genitalia insulting or demeaning.

I don’t want to be a feminist anymore.

(via notafraidofruins)

I’m reblogging this again because last night I didn’t speak up when someone insulted me and the people I love, regardless of whether he was joking or not. It feels a lot worse to feel guilty for not speaking up than it ever did when people told me to “lighten up” or that “words are just words” and to “get a sense of humor.” 

(via gerileigh)

Confessions of a Half Dyke: My wife and I went to a bonfire Friday night and a guy there kept saying fag. Nobody said a thing to him. We left shortly after. My friend who invited us apologized, but I was upset she didn’t say anything at the time. She’s usually very…outspoken. Like Geri, I’m sick of always being the bitch at the party that “can’t take a joke” or needs to “lighten up or get a thicker skin.” No. Your fucking homophobia, your fucking sexism, your fucking racism and prejudice are not my problem. It’s your problem. And a very large problem. I’m not 100% sure why the situation at the bonfire irked me so much. I hear that kind of BS all the time. All I know is I too am tired of arguing. 

(via gerileigh)