#than self-proclaimed feminists

[avephelis]

queer spaces that are like "women and other safe space" are so uncomfortable to me. how do i explain that it feels safer to hang with The Boys and maybe risk being called a slur than take a step in your politically correct barely disguised gender essentialist hellscape.

[howtobeamagicalgirl]

:T

[gendercriticalthinking]

The way that my friend felt disappointed when he found out as a kid that an androgynous character he idolized was a woman because he quote "couldn't relate to the character anymore" and the way that the creator of Celeste """discovered he was non-binary""" because he wrote a female character that he was able to relate to are branches off of the same vein of misogyny I think

[area51-escapee]

Besties I’m fucking tired lmao

[feministfang]

Beauty culture is extremely normalised to the point women who refuse to conform to beauty standards because they love their natural selves get labelled "pick mes" by none other than self-proclaimed feminists themselves. Patriarchal society has conditioned women to be insecure about each and every feature of their faces or bodies it has deemed as a flaw due to which the idea of a natural looking woman is someone hideous and unattractive for many young women.

These insecure women have build up this one image of a natural female appearance in their minds which they describe as unattractive, and as a consequence, women who naturally do not fit into that unattractive-labelled box get hated on. I am sure we all have encountered at least one gossipmonger in our lives who would assume every woman who does not fit into that box has done something with her face or body because ‘ain’t no way a woman can be naturally beautiful’.

*Woman with rosy cheeks exists* — ‘Oh she must have applied makeup’

*Woman with no dark circles exists* — ‘hey what concealer do you use?’

*Woman with a smooth skin exists* — ‘drop the skincare routine!’

*Woman with big lips exists* — ‘definitely lip filler’

*Woman in her thirties exists* — ‘Botox! Botox! Definitely cosmetic surgery! She doesn’t look like a grandma!’

*Woman loving her natural self exists* — ‘How dare you think you’re not like other girls! Pick me!’

Women get bodyshamed if we do fit into the "ugly-looking" criteria. Women get hated on if we do not. Women are supposed to be hideously flawed if they defy beauty culture. Women with even one less flaw must admit they obey beauty culture. No matter how many times you ditch the beauty standards, you will never escape this nonsense.

I have a message for these insecure clowns:

There is nothing imperfect about you. What’s considered perfect and what’s considered imperfect on a woman is all a patriarchal set up to push us into being weak and desirable for men. Women’s insecurities have risen up along with the rise of feminism to ensure that independent women rejecting traditional gender roles are still submissive and pleasing men. Don’t waste your hard-earned money on expensive cosmetic procedures to look pretty because you are already naturally beautiful. And it doesn’t matter if your natural self is socially desirable or not, women don’t owe beauty to anybody. Please think critically of why you feel insecure about something and why do you even call it a flaw.

But on a strict note, in case you still got time to take out your brain back from the patriarchy’s washing machine, at least refrain from pulling us all down to the level of extreme self-hate where you stand. All women are perfect already. There’s no serious requirement of hiding anything or changing ourselves. But i understand if you cannot relate for now! What you see in others is a direct reflection of yours. But just because you think you are hideous does not mean every woman thinks the same way. Self-love is our only beauty routine so let us love ourselves. 🩷

[txttletale]

god of war is a more interesting take on greek mythology than 90% of self-proclaimed Feminist or Queer Retellings and im not joking

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i have left

hey everyone this will probably be the last thing i post on this blog albeit im keeping it up for resources.

im eternally grateful for how this community has helped me through prostitution and everything, i have amazing mutuals and i have learned so much 💜

but it has become toxic. many of yall cant handle disagreement and default to being as condescending and obnoxious as possible. one of us calling out a post is not enough, we have to dog pile everyone with a slightly shitty opinion. some of yall have severely lost the plot if you ever had it in the first place. not everything is that serious, especially when it comes to online drama.

im sick of it. so many engage in the same bullshit we accuse online trans activists of. this is an echo chamber. so many just mindlessly parrot slogans and arguments. what im very sick of is seeing single tweets or posts by a nobody, usually anonymous, being spread as receipts and shit. you know how annoying it is when everything a self proclaimed terf somewhere on social media says is taken by trans activists at face value and representative of the community when theyre not even radical feminist, just transphobic? yeah. yet a lot of yall do the same by saving and sharing „receipts“ where some random person who claims theyre trans (or not even) says some fucked up or out of pocket shit. you will always find people like that online, from any politicial „camp“ or ideological alignment!

a lot of yall seem to think that debate is about winning and not like, having an exchange of arguments and let the audience come to their own conclusion

and i just dont hate trans people. in fact i feel kinship to any female or homosexual trans person, anyone except heterosexual males. many of yall dont even realise how male centered you are when you more or less equal the trans community to heterosexual men who have a fetish for humiliation and forced feminisation or whatever. who exist and are an issue and i do wish the trans community at large would distance themselves from those men, but its not all there is to it. yes i agree that we need to protect vulnerable young people, girls and especially lesbians and gay boys, from being pushed into transitioning, i think the age of consent should be put at 21 or something, but we have to acknowledge and consider that there are people who have already transitioned and will transition in the future and i just dont understand how you cant have any empathy for them. no matter what you think about transition, many trans people ARE vulnerable and marginalised. plus consider how many detransitioned women are in this community yet yall talk about trans people as mutilated and shit its gross. in the end we can only try to establish structures that keep people from self harming, but an adult of sound mind has the right to do so anyways, including plastic surgery and trans surgeries. and i want to keep my arms open to them; but a lot of rhetoric around it spread on here will only alienate them further.

right now im saving all my essays in notes so its out of my mind. i have missed the community a lot so maybe i will return at some point but i have also been feeling better since i stopped being on radblr. i miss the rare valuable input and thoughts by other women but overall i have felt unaligned with how things have been handled on here. it has been mostly negative instead of constructive and pragmatic. ive had the impression some of yall enjoy the „being in the in-group“ community aspect more than actually being here for feminist exchange. lack of nuance, lack of empathy, lack of reason. it pains me but i have more and more come to understand why people just block us without engaging on general suspicion because ive also come to be annoyed with some of yall engaging with posts - and im on „your side“.

anyways im doing okay, im going to drug counselling regularly now and am trying to establish a stable life for those of you who inquired, and i hope anyone reading this is self reflected enough to know whether this applies to her or not. bye

[assortedseaglass]

Talk Refined - Chapter Two

Michael Gavey x Reader

[Masterlist]

Summary: When Michael Gavey unwittingly insults a fellow Oxford student, they enter into a game of intellectual cat and mouse.

Content Warnings (this chapter in bold): Language, Smut, Saltburn Spoilers

Esme did not let you live your encounter with Michael Gavey down.

“You should have heard her. Like she was interviewing all over again!” At any given opportunity, she took the chance to tell the story of how her best friend had shot down the genius from Brasenose.

“Esme, everyone’s heard this story a hundred times,” you’d said when she once again brought the matter up at the pub. “And anyway, he didn’t even reply when I shouted at him. Just said he needed a piss.” People at the table tittered. Michael’s reputation as a genius made had its way around the university’s colleges. Mainly because he was the one telling them.

It was a fact begrudgingly agreed upon at each recounting of the tale. Esme would tell her college mates, or new friends at the pub, the story of you and Michael getting into a fight, and inevitably they would say “The self-proclaimed genius?”

“The maths nerd?”

“That dickhead?”

Before resigning to the fact that, despite his arrogance, Michael Gavey really was a genius.

“Didn’t you hear him shouting at dining hall first night?”

“Heard he got 100% on the maths admissions test!”

“Pretty funny really. If he wasn’t such a twat I’d invite him out, he’s great entertainment.”

Luckily for you, the spectre of his reputation loomed larger than the man himself who, since your encounter at the pub, you had not seen. Perhaps he was too embarrassed after his very public rejection. More likely, it was because you were preparing for your extended essay deadline. Burrowed in your room at the desk, or else tucked in a dark corner of the library, Esme almost had to drag you to leave your room these days.

“Should have done something on Gentileschi,” you muttered into the open book on the library table. Your endless studying on the use of women as decoration that formed the basis of your essay was slowly crushing you. “Wanted to do a feminist essay but this is fucking depressing.”

Esme shifted in her seat next to you, leant over your book to look at the pictures on the open page, then pushed it from your view. Before you could protest, she spoke.

“One minute not looking at that dull picture,” she gestured to the image of Turner’s Reclining Nude on a Bed, “-isn’t gonna hurt you. But I’ll tell you what won’t be depressing. My end of year party!” Esme grabbed your shoulders and shook you.

You laughed, stifling it behind your hand when a few pug-nosed students frowned at you.

“I thought you’d settled for a cheese and wine night? ‘Sophisticated with a chance of minor sluttiness’,” you quoted her and she winked.

“Yeah, well, it’ll still be a cheese and wine night,” she opened another textbook and riffled through the pages absent-mindedly. “With slightly more wine than cheese-”

“And about sixty people.”

“Only after the meal! Had to take the chance and get in there before Catton. No-one’d come otherwise.” Esme’s face dropped, a flash of worry crossing her bonny face at the prospect of competing with Felix Catton for the Party of the Year.

“It’ll be grand,” you grabbed her hand reassuringly. “Who wants Catton’s friends there anyway? Load of stuck-up snobs-”

“You sound like Gavey!”

You shot an irritated look at Esme. She grinned back and busied herself with the work in front of her. You looked at the title scribbled across the top of the page. “Semper femina: misogyny’s early beginnings.”. You really picked a corker when you saw her at the humanities social. You nudged her shoulder affectionately, rubbing off her last comment and, still a little distracted, look around the library.

Not all libraries in Oxford had vaulted ceilings of ancient oak, or were decorated with elaborately carved roses. Some had harsh fluorescent lighting and tiled navy carpets. It just so happened that you and Esme preferred the grander of buildings. So too, did most other students. When dedication and inspiration waned, the quickest way to feel inspired was to pop to the libraries with ancient tomes alongside the course textbooks, sharing silent exchanges with other students gazing in awe at the latticed windows and rows of paper possibility.

“By the way,” Esme whispered, not due to the setting but what she was about to say next. “Who are you bringing?”

Your eyes didn’t flicker from the book in front of you. “Bringing where?”

“To the cheese and wine party,”

You looked at her, a mixture of exasperation and amusement on your face. “Since when did I have to bring someone?”

“Well,” Esme fully turned in her seat to look at you. “You don’t, but I’m bringing Eleanor-”

“Pretty girl from the pub.”

Esme nodded and continued counting people on her fingers. “Laura’s boyfriend is visiting that weekend, Holly’s bringing some rugby lad, Joe’s best mate is coming and the other three all have boyfriends. Bit sad if you’re the loner.”

“How can I be a loner at a party?”

“You know what I mean! Come on, it’s the end of the year, loosen up a bit. Doesn’t have to be a bloke, just pick someone!”

You thought a moment. Though you hated to admit it, Michael Gavey had been right; a lot of the people on your History of Art course were public school wankers and horsey girls fast-tracked to jobs in their parents’ cosmopolitan art galleries.

Nope. No-one there you could bring, and all of Esme’s friends were already going.

“I don’t know!” You despaired, slumping back in your seat comically in mock defeat.

Esme laughed. “Tell you what, next person that comes round that corner,” she pointed to the last bookshelf of a long row, right by the library entrance. “You’ve got to take. Deal?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’ll buy your cheese and wine for the night.”

You stared at her. Trinity term was almost up, and so too was your scholarship loan. “Fine.”

Esme laughed excitedly and stared excitedly at the shelves. You did so with apprehension. A minute passed and no-one rounded the corner. A group of gorgeous boys left the library, but not one person entered.

“Looks like you’ll be coming alone after all.” You pinched Esme’s side and she giggled. “Aha!” She pointed behind you and your stomach dropped. Turning slowly, you faced your fate. Date.

A wizened old man no taller that the fourth shelf shuffled along the wooden floor, his worn leather shoes squeaking with every step. There were more lines on his face than the tube map.

“No.”

“Don’t be a bitch!”

“People don’t want their fucking lecturers there, Esme.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “But it has to be the next person or my share of the food is on you.”

“Fine.”

You both stared at the bookshelf. The wizened old man shuffled past you, and soon the sound of his leather shoes faded. You glanced over your shoulder at Esme. “This is stupid-”

“Oh. My. God.” Esme was looking past you, and what had momentarily been shock was turning to unbridled glee.

“What?” You span in your chair. “No. Absolutely not.” Panic prickled the hairs of your neck. You whipped back to face Esme. She was laughing. “I can’t. Fuck. No!”

“This is brilliant,” Esme clapped her hands together. Some students shushed her and she sent them a two fingered salute.  “He’s coming this way! Go on, ask him!”

You took a deep breath and, with growing unease, turned to face your unknowing date.

Michael Gavey was walking stiffly along the rows of bookshelves. The muscles of his jaw were set in a tight line; he wasn’t here to browse; he knew what he wanted and was making his determined way towards it. You watched him carefully, waiting until the perfect moment to speak. How the hell were you going to ask?

“Let’s wait a minute-” Esme made to cut you off but you continued quickly. “Just to see where he goes. I don’t want to ask in front of everyone.”

Esme huffed but nodded, and you both went back to watching him.

“This feels creepy,” you said, watching as he got closer.

“All we’re doing is looking at him.” Esme said matter of factly. But that wasn’t quite true. It felt altogether more like you were studying him. Something about Michael Gavey meant you couldn’t look away.

Just as when you last saw him, his clothes looked second hand. Or like something an aunt would by. A crisp, short-sleeved shirt, starchly ironed, tucked into a pair of beige cargo trousers. Vile. Around his belt swung a number of carabiners, one containing his keys, another a collection of USB sticks. They jangled as he walked past.

You ducked your head to avoid being seen. Esme scoffed. You kicked her under the table.

The two of you watched his retreating back. You noticed you weren’t the only ones looking at him. A few other students, some boys smirking and some girls, were watching him to. None indicated that they knew him personally, for none sent him a smile or a wave. They simply watched as he passed. His reputation really did precede him.

You tried to think on what it was that made Michael Gavey so hard to ignore. He had done nothing today but enter the library and, by now, everyone knew him to be a stuck-up knobhead. So what was it that was making everyone stare?

Perhaps it was the rigidity with which he walked, so upright and solid. For one so thin, you imagined that if someone bumped into him now he would just continue walking as though nothing happened. Maybe it was the unnerving way in which his grey eyes stared. You remembered them from before. How he analysed people, unblinking, as he spoke to them, dissecting every minutia of their movement behind his glasses.

Could it be, that underneath the dreadful clothes and frankly alarming attitude, he was quite handsome? You blushed at the thought and turned away from Esme.

In another life, with better clothes, better glasses, a kinder face, he might have been attractive. Afterall, his hair was that Gisele Bündchen colour girls in your sixth form tried unsuccessfully to get from the bottle. His face was all angles, like the bassist in some boy band. Not front man handsome, but with a little something that appealed to the weird girls. And he was tall. God, was he tall. Not Felix Catton tall, but after him he’d been the tallest at the pub. You remembered the way he’s unfurled his body uncomfortably from the chair. Even now, he was almost half the height of some of the old bookshelves. When he came to a stop, depositing his Tesco carrier bag on the table with a rustle, his shoulder bumped into one of the shelves, and you noticed how broad they were, accentuated by the black leather belt holding up his trousers. Who’d have thought it? Michael Gavey vaguely good-looking. Shame he was a prick.

“There you go,” Esme whispered in your ear as Michael disappeared between two shelves. “Perfect chance.”

Your mouth went dry. You’d momentarily forgotten the reason you were both watching Michael. Sensing your apprehension, Esme turned you by the shoulder and looked you deep in the eye. “It’s fine, I’ll help.” She was loving this, and the two of you spent the next five minutes working out how to approach the Bastard from Brasenose.

You tried to get rid of Esme as quietly as possible.

“Just let me do it on my own!” you hissed.

“I don’t trust you, not after last time!” She was pushing you towards the bookshelf Michael was browsing. You were digging your feet in.

“Please, just let me-”

“No,” Esme giggled, pushing you closer to the shelves. “You’ll either have an argument or not ask at all. I want to see this.”

Your hand gripped the wooden bookcase just as you arrived and blocked her from going any further. She pushed against you, trying to force you towards Michael.

“I’ll do it, Esme, just give me a second!”

“Just get on with it, for God’s sake!” she whispered with a shove.

“Ouch! You’re hurting me!”

“Can I help you?”

You both jolted. Michael was staring at you, his hands balled into fists at his side. He looked…nervous. Esme had clearly pushed you closer to him than you’d thought.

“No, er, sorry,” you took a step backwards only to be blocked by Esme.

“Oh,” Michael relaxed a little, a tight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s you.”

You stared at him. “You don’t need to sound so offended by my presence.”

“You’re the one stumbling around the library hissing like a banshee.”

You were about to retort when Esme caught your arm warningly. You looked back at her with annoyance. She simply nodded at you and gestured to take a deep breath.

“Sorry, Michael,” you said. He flinched a little as you said his name, not that you noticed. Esme did. “Erm,”

“She has something she wants to ask you, Michael.”

“Ask me?”

Fucking hell, here goes. You tired to smile at him. He stared back blankly. Why did he make everything so bloody difficult?

“Yeah, um,” you stepped forward and leant against the bookshelf for support, to make it seem less formal. “Well, Esme is having an end of year party-”

“A dinner party,” Esme cut in.

“-and we wondered.”

“She wondered!”

“We wondered,” you said louder, drowning out your friend. “If you’d like to come? Maybe?”

Michael stared at you. His head jerked almost imperceptibly, as if it had suddenly fallen out with his neck, and he scoffed quietly. “Is this a joke?”

“What?” You and Esme said together.

“Are you taking the piss?”

“What? No-”

Michael placed the book he was reading back on the shelf and faced you both fully. “Get out of the way please, you’re blocking the exit.”

“Michael,” he stopped again when you said his name.

“Honestly, we’re not taking the piss.” Esme said kindly.

“We saw you come in, and Esme keeps reminding me what a bitch I was at the pub.” Never mind the fact that you were an absolute arsehole. “And we just thought, as a way to apologise, you might like to come to the party? Fresh start?”

“I don’t do parties.”

“It’s-a-cheese-and-wine-night-actually.” Esme said quickly.

“Right,” he continued staring at you. The longer he did it, the more you regretted asking. Fucking blink. He glanced quickly back at the shelves of books, and screwed his eyes tightly shut, as if working out something impossibly difficult. When he opened his eyes again, you weren’t sure whether he was going to scream or cry.

Then you realised he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking past you. With surprising force and speed, Michael pushed past the both of you.

“Oliver Quick.”

Esme looked at you with excitement. Without a word, you both hurried to the end of the bookcase. There he was. Oliver Quick, caught in a staring contest with Michael Gavey. Oliver glanced quickly at the two of you, eagerly poking your heads around the shelf to get the gossip.

Michael hadn’t noticed. “You look different.”

“Do I?” Oliver sounded bored and you wanted to smack him. What was it with the boys at Oxford? He turned away from you all, but Michael wasn’t done with him.

“He’ll get bored of you.” A pang of pity twisted your stomach. Esme had been right. Oliver’s abandonment at the pub had hurt Michael more than he let on.

Oliver stopped and turned around. “Excuse me?”

You glanced at Michael, waiting for his retaliation with bated breath. He said nothing.

“G’wan, Mikey,” Esme whispered.

Oliver walked away, but not before Michael could twist the dagger. “Bootlicker.” He enunciated every delicious, vicious syllable.

Oliver looked back again, only to cast an uncomfortable look at Michael and see Esme swearing at him behind Michael’s back. “For that Michael,” she clapped her hands. “You can be guest of honour!”

Notes: Short one this time but I’m getting back into writing by doing shorter chapters. SO excited to write the party.

Tags: @lexwolfhale* @theoneeyedprince @lovebittenbyevans @fan-goddess @ellrond @very-straight-blog @arcielee @tsujifreya @liv-cole @myfandomprompts @annoyingkittydetective* @elizarbell @solisarium @thekinslayersswordhand @nightdiamond8663* @slowlysparklyninja* @kate-to-the-ki @bellaisasleep @xxxkat3xxx @lacebvnny @moonriseoverkyoto @ewanmitchellcrumbs @moonlightfoxx @pendragora @aemonds-holy-milk @st-eve-barnes @sapphire-writes @babyblue711 @targaryenrealnessdarling @slytherincursebreaker @bottlesandbarricades @valeskafics @anjelicawrites @exitpursuedbyavulcan @barbieaemond @chattylurker @itbmojojoejo @humanpurposes @cyeco13 @heimtathurs @in-a-mountain-pool @aemondsfavouritebastard @marysucks-blog @rheaxes @xivilivix

*could not tag

[smokeweedeattherich]

(I know it's not good for me but) I've taken a mild interest in the terfs of tumblr because I just want to be educated on what kind of bullshit and misinformation they're using to argue their bigoted opinions. Almost across the board it seems like these people have such a 2 dimension understanding of feminism.

I feel like the closest thing I can compare it to is generational politics. It's pretty easy to be like "oh those selfish rich boomers ruined the planet" but fact of the matter is there's poor and impoverished boomers who've suffered under the hands of capitalism so all that does is alienate you from potential allies in the class war. Likewise these self proclaimed "radical feminists" operate on flawed logic that "all men are violent and profit from the patriarchy" while there are gay and gnc men, as well as trans men and women who get punished by their peers for not performing masculinity/femininity well enough.

What these have in common is that people generalize complex issues into black and white terms, thereby alienating people who have experiences in common and could serve as worthy allies. The TERF reframe feminism not as equality between genders but as female supremacy. There lies the flaw, because of it they'd inevitably become nothing more than new oppressors with nothing about the way we run society having fundamentally changed. The ruling class will always find little ways to distract us with stupid infighting, if people would stop falling for it that would be brilliant. Trans people aren't your enemies. You have more in common with an average trans woman than a billionaire who wrote a wizard school book series as she cosplayed being poor while relatives paid her bills.

[dollypopup]

I don't think people truly understand that in coming out as Lady Whistledown, Penelope has now humiliated Colin publicly for the third time in a row, Eloise for the second, and the Bridgertons in general once again

Because in coming out as Lady Whistledown, what she has really done is give validity to the harsher articles she has written about them. People have surely not forgotten that article at the start of the season calling Colin a fraud and a faker, and now she's given legitimacy to that, even if she herself did not stand by that article. She says it repeatedly, that Lady Whistledown had never been more wrong about anybody. But she never rescinded that article. She never assured that she didn't stand by it. She aired out Eloise's secrets of being at the feminist rallies, and claimed she needed to do so in order to keep her safe.

So, what was it, show? Was Eloise in danger because Lady Whistledown was a dangerous pursuit, and so Penelope was justified in spilling her secrets? Or was Lady Whistledown no big deal and thus easy to forgive, so Penelope was wrong to write what she did about her?

Everyone in the Ton now knows that no matter how close Penelope is with someone, she'll air out their business at best, and insult them directly at worst. Eloise tried to hide that article from him, Phillipa and Prudence themselves said Lady Whistledown raked him across the coals, and here Penelope is, proclaiming it was her, that she did it, with no remorse. She says with her entire chest that this is what she did and she stands by it, with her besmirched best friend in the crowd, and the man she insulted to the entirety of her city against the wall.

Criticizing the Queen and strangers is one thing, airing out secrets from people close to you is another.

Colin put his ego, his self-worth, and his own dreams to the side to support Penelope. I don't think ANY of us would have been able to do the same. He loves her more than he loves himself, his image, his own pursuits. And in a way, that's a form of self harm for him, and something that Violet herself urged him not to do. The entire point of his arc was to consider himself more, else why have that speech on the steps? But in having a romantic relationship with Penelope, Colin was forced to answer the question: Does he love Penelope more than he loves himself? And he said yes.

If Penelope was asked the same, I think she would say yes, too. But if she were asked 'Do you love Colin more than you love Lady Whistledown?', the answer would be very different.

I don't know, I think someone wrote the quiet part aloud: they liked the ending of Bridgerton Season 3 because they are a Pen fan first, and a Polin fan second. Because if you consider that ending from the perspective of Polin as a collective, it is very much not a satisfying climax to their story. Colin coming to tell Penelope he is proud of her, and that his purpose is to love her and soak up some of her light is just. . .it's sad. It's incredibly sad to think that this sensitive man, who has been in a pursuit to be taken seriously, to be considered as a whole person, says that his purpose is to live for his partner and live in the shadows.

And then this fandom has the GALL to criticize him for his anger? This fandom has the gall to say that Colin was dramatic for feeling hurt and betrayed by Penelope keeping this secret from him for years, and letting him be vulnerable with her, and open with her, and hiding literally half of her life from him. You have the audacity to say that Colin was in the wrong for a line or two that focuses on his own pain and vulnerability at his FRIEND, a woman he loves, a trusted person in his life, having lied to him, written about him to the entire city in a bad light, insulted and hurt the women around him? But Penelope was not ever in the wrong for the harms she committed?

Imagine you experienced even half as much as he did at her hands.

Now tell me you'd forgive her in two weeks.

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

So many people have spoken so cromulently about the brouhaha in Olympics women's boxing, and I share the frustration and anger over the shit way Imane Kelif is being treated for the crime of being an insufficiently feminine woman. I can't add any more to that.

But I haven't seen anyone talking much about the other fighter in the match, and -- look, I don't want to drag her, because I have never lost at the Olympics, and I've never been punched in the face, so who knows how I'd react to either. But there's something so repellent and gross to me about the prurient way media coverage has dwelled on Angela Carini's *weeping* and how she said it *hurt so much* and now she's so *unhappy* because her *dreams are dead.*

Like -- this woman is supposed to be an elite, world-class boxer! The pity and protectiveness we're being pressed to feel for her because she got in the ring and got hit real hard is just like -- what is happening here? They hit as hard as they can at the Olympics, that's like, the whole thing! Idk how weight classes work in women's boxing, maybe there should be more finely tuned categories, if it's so shocking to see a bigger person punch a smaller one, but this is like, *fucking boxing,* a sport where traditionally there was a non-zero risk of getting hit so hard you *died.*

It's just really off-putting to me to see all these self-proclaimed champions of female athletes talking about Carini using exclusively the language appropriate to domestic violence victims, rather than giving her any sort of dignity as a competitor.

Again, I'm trying really hard not to hang anything on Carini herself, because I get that "there's no crying in baseball!!!" is supposed to be the Incorrect Take and there's nothing inherently wrong with crying from pain or disappointment, but like. It's so gross and weird, and it's so not how any reporting would treat a man who lost a match. It's so obviously a matter of immediately divorcing her from her context as *an Olympic athlete* and *a boxer* in order to recast her as *a sad injured lady.* Really drives home the point about how weakness and vulnerability are load-bearing components of how these "radical feminists" perceive the nature of womanhood.

[trans-androgyne]

Re: toxic masculinity being 'dressed up in twisted-pro-feminism reasoning'

This is so damn relevant to me right now. I just unfollowed an account for making fun of a man for being significantly shorter than his wife. I'm so goddamn tired of the way self-proclaimed progressives still insist on bodyshaming men because they're viewed as acceptable targets.

Bodyshaming in general is already anti-feminist, but the idea that being short makes a man worthy of mockery is peak toxic masculinity. The idea that there is only one way to be a man, and that any man who doesn't fit that narrow view is lesser and deserving of derision is literally what we're supposed to be fighting against.

I'm just so damn tired.

It’s deeply, deeply exhausting. People will claim to be feminist but be totally fine engaging in sexism as long as it’s against men.

[hadesoftheladies]

there's no such thing as a feminist without female solidarity, btw. hating men is not female solidarity. hating men so much you want to "not be a man" does not equal female solidarity from transwomen. being attracted to women does not equal female solidarity. hating trans ideology or trans people is not female solidarity.

female solidarity takes deliberate effort and isn't earned just by doing the opposite: hating men. it is meaningful support, intentional pursuit of the betterment of the situation of all women (all races, all classes, all orientations), especially the women in your life.

if a transwoman is out here protesting the sex trade, i have more solidarity with that person than with a womanchild online joking about how she doesn't pay male uber drivers. if a man in my life is invested in protecting his sisters from his father's domestic abuse, i have more solidarity with him than with women trying to sell makeup to preteens. if a white conservative woman is here voting to keep males out of female spaces for the sake of young girls' safety, i have more solidarity with her than with some feminist-identified woman screaming "sex work is work."

feminism is not supporting women just because WOMEN. feminism is certainly NOT supporting only women who look and think like you. if all it takes for you to become a raging misogynist is for a woman to disagree with you, you aren't a feminist. i don't care if you're a leftist or whatever. if you put how you feel about yourself or how you appear to others over women's safety, you aren't feminist. if you exalt your personal philosophy over the real lives of women on this planet, you aren't a feminist.

by joining with these guys, i am not betraying my feminist principles, because our goal is proactively making women's lives better. by hee-heeing with women over girls who are fat, i most certainly am being anti-feminist.

some self-proclaimed feminists on here need to stop making feminist praxis a middle-schooler squabble about what looks good and start thinking about what DOES good and for WHOM.

[rebuke-me]

anyways on the note of bmc being misogynistic. bc it is.

the biggest slap in the face was when they gave christine a feminist patch but didn't change almost anything about the girls characters. sure, brooke stands up for herself once.

but when do any of the girls talk to each other about anything other than boys?

when do the girls get to have meaningful conversations and connections?

when does christine, a self proclaimed feminist, actually TALK to another woman about something other than a boy?

if the whole plot is about overcoming insecurity and making lasting meaningful friendships, why do the girls not get that chance?

jennas ignored but we never get to see her NOT ignored. even the fandom ignores her.

brookes treated as, basically, a prop and a stepping stone, and they will SAY "this is bad I'm using her" but never actually confront it.

chloe is a caricature of a "mean girl" who is controlling and obsessive and aggressive. she never gets a real chance to be anything else.

christine is the main female lead, she's quirky and interesting and her patches say she's a feminist. but what do we know about her? what do the other girls know about her?

do the girls ever get a chance to be friends?

[whilomm]

i think part of the reason why ppl have a kneejerk reaction to others pointing out that marcille is kinda conservative (besides the usual desire to sand down characters edges to make them Less Problematic™) is that theyre thinking "conservative=republican" rather than similar to like, that girl who will swear up and down that she is SO progressive and 100% feminist and everything but when a girl doesnt shave her legs she says "ugh but its just so UNSANITARY" but at the same time if a guy DOES shave their legs she just "thinks its weird!!!", and if you point out the contradiction there ("didnt you say it was UNSANITARY to not shave? doesnt that mean you think ALL guys should shave?") she will BSoD a little bit and uhhhh i mean uhhh its just that–

or you know, someone who if you come out as a trans to her she'll accept it (after a bit of confusion and a few of the usual dumb cis questions) but maybe thinks that the way to ✨validate✨ you is to go all in on gender stereotypes like okay if youre a woman that means MAKEUP and DRESSES and LONG HAIR and ACTING LADYLIKE and PARTICIPATING IN GIRLY ACTIVITIES and NOT BEING TOO LOUD and NOT TAKING UP TOO MUCH SPACE. and if your a man that means dressing MANLY and HAVING SHORT HAIR and ACTING MASCULINE and TOUGH and BEING UNINVITED FROM THE (GIRLY) WEEKLY HANGOUT SESH

or people who like, will never outright say they HATE homeless people, like if you talk about volunteering at the soup kitchen or donating to the food bank shes like yeah!!! but then she also getting weirdly uncomfortable when it comes to actual homeless people who arent like, the model of 'trying but down on my luck', and just thinking the tents are unsightly and worrying about how if you give someone money on the street if they'll just use it for drugs and being anxious about the vague specter of "violence"

(im not necessarily saying "marcille herself would 100% do these things" but just "when people say marcilles a bit conservative they dont mean rightwing republican they mean like this kinda shit which self-proclaimed Progressives do when they dont recognize they still got shit that they picked up from living in a So Sigh Titty to work thru")

like, listen, a big part of marcille's character is that she is very prideful and sure of herself and her opinions. half of marcille's character building parts are "marcille has a preconceived notion! oh, someone challenges the preconceived notion! marcille is RESISTANT to this! oh my GOD this is AWFUL how could you CHALLENGE HER WORLD VIE- oh. oh wait no. okay you might have a point BUT SHE STILL HATES IT!!!".

she changes and she learns things! but shes kicking and screaming the whole way and kinda annoying about it and even after she has one thing challenged shes still got a whole backlog of other things she learned from So Sign Titty shes also gotta work thru even if she doesnt realize it yet. sometimes she gradually realizes these things on her own sometimes someone basically has to hit her over the head with the Very Special Episode about how halffoots arent children and orcs aren't evil and maybe shes treating falin a bit like a dress up doll and infantilizing her and like thats a problem maybe?

like. its an interesting part of her character! let marcille be a bit conservative. she aint perfect. actually theres a lotta little things she kinda sucks about. but its okay bc she can learn and have her tidy little worldview challenged and its interesting to see her go thru it all!

(and i also wonder if part of the resistance to people pointing out how shes a bit conservative in some ways is also like, refusal to admit "hm maybe i also hold some regressive views". like, the general thing of "wanting to believe you are already a perfect progressive and dont hold any shitty views" is extremely realistic, its defo a trap ive fallen into before! most of us probably have! but like, step one is admitting it rather than putting your foot on the ground and saying la la la i cant hear you)

[butch-reidentified]

<33333 you're wonderful, amazing, and incredibly strong and resilient. you've done more for lgbt people than all of the people throwing hate at you combined.

thank you, love ❤️ I know this for a fact. I know for a fact I've done and STILL do more for trans people than ANYONE on here coming for me 🤷 I've personally arranged and/or paid for healthcare including expensive HIV medications, housing, food, doctor's appointments, clothing, and more for homosexual AND TRANS people in need in my community. I've used my connections to get welfare resources for homosexual AND TRANS people they otherwise either couldn't access or would have had to wait months for. I've paid for and legally facilitated the name change of more than one trans acquaintance. I have opened my home to unhoused gay AND TRANS young adults to ensure they had shelter and food and safety and access to medicine, and paid for motel rooms for unhoused lgbt people for weeks or months while they waited for an opening in the shelter (which I also got them on the list for, sometimes when they didn't even technically qualify, using my connections as a Pulse survivor).

I've helped several LGBT young adults in need learn adult skills including how to drive, how to find and then apply & interview for jobs, how to check their vitals and what the dangerous ranges are, basic first aid, CPR certifications, harm reduction in cases involving substance misuse, how to find good medical providers & advocate for themselves to doctors/insurance, how to obtain and navigate medical insurance, how to apply for an apartment rental, how to apply for college or in one case even grad school, how to set boundaries and speak up for their needs, how to get documents changed, and much more.

I'm not wealthy, either, I did all of this while living paycheck to paycheck and struggling to feed myself. I did all this voluntarily, separate from charity organizations or guidance, on my own initiative. I found ways. I always found ways bc it mattered to me. I routinely used my unique connections as a Pulse survivor (esp connections to the lgbt resources who assisted us in the aftermath, but also to politicians like Carlos Guillermo Smith and Anna Eskamani who most of us survivors know personally) to help lgbt people in need. and what do the people who claim to be the real trans activists/allies do? harass and threaten me & women/girls like me - most often online as anonymous cowards, but even IRL (usually still anonymously) with courageous tactics such as doxxing, bomb threats, bombarding their employer's or school's phone line with hypocritical bootlickers calling for her to be fired or expelled.

What can the homophobic, misogynistic, self-proclaimed "pro trans" assholes (who are actually causing harm to & reducing public support for actual sex-dysphoric/GNC people) in my inbox honestly say they have done for trans people? Sent dozens if not hundreds of rape fantasies & death threats to a feminist lesbian who actually does meaningful and materially measurable work for the population you claim to be defending bc she says sex-based oppression is a real thing with material consequences from which all women and girls (50% of the world's human population) deserve liberation? 10/10 insane thought process.

I'm tired of it.

EDIT 12.28.2023 - Please see full version of this post with my vitally important follow-up reblogs here.