Wish I Could Leak My Own Nudes Anonymously So That My Family Would Finally Stop Fucking Slut Shaming

White Man's Burden

Ethnocentrism :

The poem rests on the themes of ethnocentrism and racism. The very reason white people find it okay or even acceptable to conquer and change other cultures is because they believe theirs is the superior culture-- they are the better, more progressive, educated, civilised nation. This cultural superiority complex comes from the unnecessary comparison of the latter to the former on the basis on Eurocentric standards of comparison.

Coloniasm, Imperialism and White Saviour Complex :

Kipling portrays the white man as a philanthropic, selfless rescuer whose duty is to educate and civilise non-white people in order to make their lives better, make them more progressive and save them from their primitive lifestyle. It seems as if white men have internalised the facade they intended to show the world, and themselves believe to be saviors of "savages" and "uncivilized" people.

Patriarchal Masculinity :

Not once does Kipling mention women in his poem. It is considered a man's duty to conquer and save others, responsibilities boys are supposed to fulfill to "become a man" or reach manlihood. But it is important to note that his poem wouldn't automatically become more progressive or better in any way even if he did include women- the fact remains that though the poem is patriarchal, the major issue is white saviour complex and ethnocentrism.

that bpd moment when you've been in an emotionally drained mood™ for a while and a small thing finally tips you over, and everyone things the latter is the reason you're having an emotional meltdown/breakdown and you don't know how to explain that it's cause of your hellfuck disorder not just that petty thing

For a while now, I had been procrastinating thinking about how I felt about certain things; how uncomfortable I feel when people refer to periods as something that is a "cis woman" thing, how uncomfortable I feel when my friends send me posts or made comments which were directed at or about solely cis women, how disturbed I feel when people call me a "woman" or a "lady", the feeling of discomfort and disgust in my throat and tummy when people say things such as, "perks of being a (cis) woman", how I always felt that sick feeling when people gendered things, as if it were only for "cis females".

At first, I thought it was because of how cisnormative it was, how gendered - but then I realised that I've been feeling these feelings since I was small, since I was a child. I had absolutely no idea about the lgbtq+ community back then, I had no idea what "gender roles and norms" were, I wasn't even aware of what feminism meant- so it surely wasn't because of that. Then I forced myself to believe that I was in the process of getting over my internalised misogyny. After a lot of introspection, I realised it wasn't that either. With the help of a few of my friends, I could finally admit that it was because I wasn't a "cis female", it was because I was a demigirl (/an agender girl) - to myself and to them.

Figuring out my gender identity wasn't easy, it wasn't the same as figuring out my sexual orientation. There were days when I would beat myself up - calling myself a fake person, a wannabe. I didn't think that my feelings were valid because I didn't actually mind my body - I didn't have dysphoria; little did I know, back then, that body dysphoria wasn't the only type of dysphoria that existed, and moreover, I didn't have to experience dysphoria to be nonbinary.

I invalidated my own feelings, I refused to acknowledge them, I was afraid of talking to others about it because I didn't want them to confirm my doubts, my insecurities - so I shoved my feelings into a box and hid them away.

But now, after a lot of introspection and a lot of external validation, I finally feel secure with my gender. I am an agender girl, which means, though I do not mind the label 'girl', I do not identify with the meaning people have assigned to it; I do not identify myself as any gender, I am genderless. My pronouns are still she/her. I comparatively feel more "girl" than "agender" - when it comes to the label - but that doesn't make my identity any less valid, that doesn't make *me* any less valid.

My identity is not an oxymoron, my identity is not a buzzword which I find interesting, my identity is who I am, and who I am is not up to you to judge, who I am is up to me to own and accept.

\\

If someone asked me to explain my gender to them - eventhough I know I don't owe anyone any explanations - it would be somewhat like this :

Imagine you were born in a world with no labels, no categories. You don't know what gender is, you don't know what it means to be a girl or a boy or neither or either or both. Imagine you were a person with XX chromosomes, a uterus, a vagina and boobs and that was it. You don't know you have a gender, you don't know your parts and your chromosomes have a sex - you just know you have certain characteristics and that's it. Suddenly, a person from another world classifies you as a girl and you're okay with that, it's a simple classification, doesn't hurt anyone - but then they assign that label an identity, you. You are identified as that label, and on top of that more gendered labels are identified with you. But that's not you, you don't feel that way. You don't feel like boobs are a "female" thing, boobs are just boobs, when it's forcefully called "female parts", you feel sick, you feel like shuddering and curling into yourself. When people say that boobs are an advantage of being a girl, your entire body shakes with disgust, when they add meaning to the label "girl", you feel shaken up, you feel revolted.

But weirdly enough, until they assigned a meaning to the label "girl", it was just an empty word, and you were okay with that.

That is how being an agender girl feels like.

//

I hold so much bitterness towards adults and I'm sure it's unhealthy, but yeah. Like, I hate the way they treat their kids, I hate the way they're so hypocritical, I hate the way they think they can say anything and not be held accountable for the hurt they've caused just because they're parents or family members, I hate the way they consider it selfish for their children to tell them how certain things they did left an impact on them, I hate how adults seem to want to teach their kids how to live in the world and treat other people, but they themselves treat their kids like trash, without kindness or compassion, I hate how adults purposely say things which are aimed at making their kids feel bad, I hate how adults think that they can justify taking advantage of the kid's vulnerability for whatever reason (for the "greater good" or "for your own good" or whatever), I hate how adults are so mean and rude to their children, I hate how they use terrible language and say horrible, horrible things just because they're sad or upset and then go on about as if they said nothing bad, I hate how adults expect their kids to talk to them and be free with them, but at the same time, judge them or mock them or brush them away when they do; I hate how adults seem to think they own their children, how they seem to think they can silence them; I hate how adults say "this is my house", taking away the sense, the feeling of "home" from the child - because if it is their house only, because they built it, what is it to their child? What is their child to that house? Isn't it supposed to be a home, and not a house that belongs to just one person? ; anyway, I hate how adults are not reliable or trustworthy and nearly never nice, I hate how adults tell their kids they want to die because their kid is too much, I hate how adults think parents/family members get a free pass for everything and anything they say or do.

Tomorrow's a sunday and I've literally spent my weekend the same way I spend the rest of my days and I feel this chronic boredom and it's choking me and I was so fucking upset and I want to cry because I'm wasting my life and not doing anything worthwhile.

songs and their stories

Did you feel the way I did, when Leith Ross said, ‘oh, what a wonderful feeling, to own and operate your life; oh, what a terrible burden, all my decisions are mine’? Like an eighteen year old child, a twenty one year old toddler; forever young; like a duckling imprinting on the first person it sees; like a sea turtle – just knowing your home is the sea, knowing you’ll be hunted the moment you break free; like wandering into a brand new city, like learning how to swim for the first time – a sudden shove, a lightning fast pull, static; like the taste of freedom, once sweet, turning into ash the more you realize accountability is yours, and yours only; like the world is too big, and at your feet; like a carousal – the feeling of wind rushing making you want to spin spin spin spin- ignoring the nausea rising; like wanting to dance in the rain, but unwilling to leave the warmth of the hearth keeping you cozy.  

Did it make you think the way it made me, when James Bay said, ‘tell me how to be in this world; tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt; tell me how could I believe in something’, and John Legend said, ‘I try to do the things, I say that I believe’? Like swimming upstream; like rolling the stone till you reach the peak, only to meet another hill; like wanting to change the world one droplet at a time, knowing life is too short for you see it become an ocean; like having faith in the flutter of tiny wings, if the butterfly effect is simply a myth, your existence would lose all meaning; like you’re watching the world from the sofa, popcorn shamefully at your feet when you need a break from the bloody, gory documentary; like knowing too much, wishing you were little; like a throat sore from screaming, hoping you could make someone else see; like falling falling falling, not knowing if there is an upwards from the rock bottom beneath your feet; like breathing in icy cold air, existence akin to slow ruin; like the sweat from holding onto someone’s hand for far too long - clammy, icky, safety.

 -kpm ©

I just want someone to be soft with me and cuddle me and call me baby, is that too much to ask for :')

Can someone recommend books which have a trauma informed/schema theory perspective/non-ableist non-sanist or even an anti-psychiatry take on personality disorders?

I feel fucking pathetic, it's the new years and I'm sitting on the bathroom floor and crying fuck

im consuming book after book so that this chasm inside my chest doesn't drown me. i feel like there's this emptiness inside that pulling me inside, forcing me to cave in, and it hurts so much