“Let me buy you dinner,” he said with a smile. He looked at me with confidence. He was close to me in age, and handsome. His actions were presumably innocent. On the surface, there was no reason for me to refuse. He thought he was simply asking me on a date, but it implied a deeper meaning.
He didn’t phrase his proposal as a question, but I still had a choice. I could say yes and smile endearingly; I could take the sandwich he wanted to buy me and thank him for his generosity. But I knew that if I wanted to live with myself, the answer would be no. I could not carry on as a hypocrite. I could not relinquish my self-respect for a sandwich.
…But you’re actually really funny, too!” Well no shit, asshole. In addition to a sense of humor, I also possess opinions, aspirations, and a black belt, but since we only made it to gelato and Gas USA for your cigarettes, I guess I shouldn’t expect you to know that. That is the sad unfortunate reality that is dating.
While it’s cliché, it’s also completely true that for whatever reason people love to be told that they’re attractive. This is not meant to necessarily be an attack on the “oppressive bonds of beauty forced upon women by society.” I think it’s more complicated than that. Rather this is me trying to figure out exactly why a statement that praised my looks but …
My friend is obsessed with the YouTube star Jenna Marbles, and forced me to watch about fifteen of her videos in one sitting. At first, I was skeptical. I usually don't find YouTube performers all that funny. But there's just something about Jenna Marbles. Is she feminist? I mean...meh. What I do know about her latest video is that the blatant sarcasm mixed with gender commentary had me laughing, and that's good enough for me.
[WARNING: this video contains profanity, sexual references and all that fucking shit]
Whether we like it or not, we all have to go through a long list of “firsts” in life: first kiss, first date, first “serious” relationship, first time you have sex, and the first serious breakup (which is never, ever, an easy thing to go through), to name a few. But being a feminist definitely made it easier for me to make a dreaded and life-altering first decision.
I had my first serious boyfriend right at the end of high school when I was 18. I was young, naive, sheltered, and completely confused about what I wanted in life. He was an amazing first boyfriend, though. He respected me, we were very compatible, and most importantly, he was always supportive of all the changes I went through (the best boyfriend …
In my eyes, he was perfect in every way. Dreamboy was smart, interesting, had beautiful brown eyes, a charming smile. He was genuinely more interested in girls’ personality than their breasts or butts. I thought Dreamboy was a perfect gentleman, and I loved him more than I’d loved anyone.
Dreamboy had, in his words, “exponentially more” experience than I did. He was a ladykiller, but was friends with many of the girls he’d had relations with. I respected that; he didn’t just “bump and dump” but rather actually took the time to get to know the girls and to keep knowing them after they’d hooked up. Dreamboy was different than any of the other guys I’d known in high school.
It all started on April 10, 2011. That’s the day my ex-boyfriend decided to leave me for another girl, another relationship. I’ve had my heart broken before, but it was this relationship, or the ending of this relationship, that made me change my mind for the better. It made me realize that as a woman I’m capable of doing many great things to change our world.
I’m single now and absolutely loving every second of it. Being too caught up in my own relationship caused me to shove my activist rights to the side. Yes, occasionally, there are moments when I randomly pass by the “cutest couple” and I can feel jealousy and disappointment flush over my body. But I’m using my healing heart to stand …