Perhaps we dont like what we see: our hips, our loss of hair, our shoe size, our dimples, our knuckles too big, our eating habits, our disposition. We have disclosed these things in secret, likes and dislikes, behind doors with locks, our lonely rooms, our messy desks, our empty hearts, our sudden bursts of energy, our sudden bouts of depression. Don’t worry. Put away your mirrors and your beauty magazines and your books on tape. There is someone right here who knows you more than you do, who is making room on the couch, who is fixing a meal, who is putting on your favorite record, who is listening intently to what you have to say, who is standing there with you, face to face, hand to hand, eye to eye, mouth to mouth. There is no space left uncovered. This is where you belong.
Sufjan Stevens (via skeletales)

Will always love this quote.

It’s almost 4 in the morning and I’m finding it hard to sleep because I am angry.
Tonight I was out with a group of people. A mixture of friends and aquaintences. Leaving the bar, we passed by another group of people. As we moved passed them, a women called out after us, “Don’t fucking touch me!”
Most of the group I was with was taken aback. They replied with
“No one fucking touched you.”
“No one would want to.”
“You’re gross.”
And, of course
“Slut!”
At this point, whether the girl had been touched or not, I was embarrassed by some of my “friends” remarks.
But then, to make things worse, as distance grew between us and the woman, one of the guys in our group said
“I totally touched her butt. It was jiggly.”
Which, to my horror, received only uproarious laughter from the group.

Women are not objects. They are not there to be “jiggled,” proded, or fondled by random men for their enjoyment.
The fact that the people I was with laughed the incident off not only infuriated me, but also validated the guy who did it.
This is dangerous. It sent the message to him, and everyone we were with that touching women without their consent is okay, funny even.
This is an entitlement issue. It’s a harassment issue. This is the shit women put up with on a day-to-day basis.
This woman was sexually harassed and then berated for it…called a slut!
This is unacceptable.
And yet, I did nothing. I was paralyzed with anger. I wanted to cry…
Wanted to run back to the girl and apologize. Tell her she had every right to yell, to defend herself and her body.
Tell her that I’m sorry there were people like this…and that I was ashamed to be associated with one.

So I’m angry about a lot of things tonight.. the actions of others, but mostly the lack of action on my part.

I should have spoken up. Instead I let my silence validate the actions of the man in my group of friends. I am angry, sad, and embarrassed.

And I have learned a lesson tonight. I only wish I had been stronger and braver and said something…so that maybe this man could have learned something too.

Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)