Content Notice: rape (attempted)
I wasn’t always a witch. Or a feminist. I lived a sheltered life as a child. We weren’t rich by any means. My parents struggled, sacrificed, and worked long hours to give us the things they never had. I took swimming lessons and learned to play violin, was a Girl Guide, and joined summer sports teams. But we lived in a small town and then a farm, a place that felt far away from the harsh realities of war and famine. No matter how many times my parents told me, “Life isn’t fair!” I never stopped believing that it should be.
Read more at http://www.ravishly.com/2017/02/24/finding-and-losing-pagan-community-through-activism
Ravishly, where we celebrate the mess of being human. A community for sharing what makes us tick, what ticks us off, plus pictures of our dogs (or cats – inclusivity is important). We laugh. We cry. We do it all together.
For something to be ironic, it has to be obvious to the listener that you don’t mean what you’re saying — that, in fact, what you believe to be true is the exact opposite of the words coming out of your mouth. Try as you might to prove in every other way that you aren’t, you know, actually sexist, you have one major problem: telling a sexist joke, even ironically, hurts women.
And nothing says “I’m not sexist” quite like hurting a woman just for a laugh.
I don’t know that I’ve ever really trusted doctors.
My mother, a nurse as long as I’ve known her, tried to teach me to advocate for myself. She told me to ask questions, to do my own research, to know what I was getting myself into, and to remember that those men — because they were always men — were not omnipotent gods, but fallible humans just like her, just like me, just like you. They just happened to also be the gatekeepers of adequate health.
Dating as a polyamorous woman brings with it a lifetime’s worth of misconceptions and jealousies. Add a few extra layers of fat to that experience, and things can get depressing real fast. As a non-single, fat, polyamorous woman, I can’t tell you how often I’ve been questioned about my confidence, self-worth, who I am, and why I’m into what I’m into.
“I’m tired of being the better person,” I whined into the phone to my mother. Read More
The best feminist Facebook groups are secret. And the most notorious are the most difficult to maintain. But there is an incredible value in the emotional labour of moderating online feminist spaces, so long as there are enough of us to keep up the work. Read More
Halloween can be a treacherous time fraught with the fear of costume failure. For women in particular the choices tend toward grim with a side of eye-roll. Read More
October is Domestic Violence Awareness month. In the news recently have been some exceptional stories about people who are going out of their way to make a difference in the lives of abuse survivors. But the most powerful thing that anyone can do is offer victims hope to find their way out. Read More
After an emotional show at the VMA’s performing his new hit single “What Do You Mean?” Justin Bieber is facing both praise and criticism over the controversial first track to be released from his upcoming album. Read More
It’s 100 degrees and the sweat is pouring. Outside the hall, the sun is beating down on the high, thatched-palm roof. Though we are perched high on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the sea breeze doesn’t penetrate the screens keeping the mosquitoes at bay. Read More