Abuse

Tainted Love: Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here

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Society hardly ever paints women as the aggressor or the manipulator in a relationship.  The  “Angry Black woman” is the main portrayal of a dissatisfied/uneasy woman in our circles, and so it’s all people have chosen to believe exists.  Evil, manipulation and destruction are kept for the males in a relationship.

And so the men who suffer at the hands of abusive women are often neglected.

Most of them don’t even know they’re being emotionally manipulated and scarred.  They are men who tried to love a restless woman and got caught up and dragged in her hurricane of a “love”.  The “good” men who met a woman who lost that part of her way before he came around and makes him suffer for it.  Men who are too “nice”, too hopeful to know when to leave.

Partners can be vindictive and try to package it as one of the things they do for love.  I’ll admit people love differently, but I’ve learned that certain forms of love leave you battered and bruised and some people never run out of apologies.

Excuses, excuses.

Abusive people never lack a sob story.  Reasons why they can’t help but hurt you. It’not them, it’s the fact that their father walked out on them.  It’s not that he’s a bad person, it’s that he constantly needs to “test” your love by doing things that emotionally cripple you.  She can’t help herself, the fact that you have female friends makes her do what she does.

It’s never them.

I dated a man for two years and watched him turn into someone I no longer recognized.  We were happy until we weren’t.  Until he started going through my phone and cussing me out for having male friends he didn’t know.  Until he started locking me in the house as he went about his ways because “If you leave the house you might meet another guy and leave me”.  Until he started kicking me out at odd hours of the night or in front of his friends.  Until I became something he wanted to keep around as a safety net and I realized his love meant taking out his frustrations and insecurities on the one thing he knew couldn’t leave him.

And don’t tell me I could have walked out.

It wasn’t easy when this was someone I’d invested that time into.  I believed I could love him better. I believed time would change everything and I believed every time he apologized, he meant it.  He really couldn’t help it.  I believed it really WAS because he was high or he treated me that way because he really WAS scared of losing me and he just COULDN’T be without me.

And who doesn’t want to feel needed?

Who doesn’t, deep down inside, want to be the saviour?

Who doesn’t want their relationship to overcome hurdles and survive?

Except abuse is not a hurdle to be overcome.  I learned that the day he tried to punch me and I moved as his fist connected with the wall.

That was it for me.  I realized like my father, like many men I know, he had reached the point of no return.  The point where he thought it was perfectly alright to strike me and his apology for that might heal my black eye.

It was time to go.  Time to walk out on the one person I had thought I was learning true love with.  Time to abandon what I knew because it was crippling me inside and trying to bruise me on the outside.

And fucking hell it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

Weeks later, while drinking with friends, my ex’s friend walked up to me, grinning like a Cheshire cat and said “Did you hear? Your ex updated his Facebook status and said he has HIV.  You should check that out.”

I’ve never sobered up that fast in my entire life.

I shook as I logged onto Facebook and read  what was there, plain as day:

“Hey guys. So I wanted to tell you that I have HIV but it’s cool. I’m still eating well and fucking these bitches raw, just as I’m supposed to.”

I was gutted.

Absolutely fucked.

His phone wouldn’t go through as I tried to reach him and nor did his sister’s.  My mind raced.  It must be true if I can’t reach him. He’s probably left town and gone to his parent’s to sort this out.  What the fuck am I going to do? How long has he known?

Everything within me seemed to stop.

I went to his house the next morning and there were new tenants there who informed me he’d left town, but he’d be back in a few days.

Those days dragged past.

When I finally saw him and asked him if it was true all he did was laugh and ask me if I wanted to fuck.

It amazed me how easily someone could turn on you when they have no claim to you anymore.

I spent the next week contemplating suicide and binge drinking, living in a friend’s dorm room.  I didn’t know how to explain to my mother that the man I’d treated my family like shit for might have knowingly given me the HI virus. I didn’t know what kind of future to plan, if at all.

I knew nothing.

The day when I finally decided I’d commit suicide, not having tested by the way because I was too scared to know, my friend came to me, looked at me, and told me “Bakang. You have to go talk to your mother about this. I can see you’re thinking some reckless shit and I’m not gonna let you fuck around and do some bullshit. Go see her. I’ll come with you if you want, if she kicks you out, come back here and we’ll figure something out. But go tell her.”

I walked into my mother’s office looking like I hadn’t had a proper meal in a week and I was having stress for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I told her everything and for what wouldn’t be the last time, she looked at me dry eyed, hurt, shocked and tired.

We went for the test, discussed what we’d do if the results were positive and waited.

I was negative.

I called my ex immediately afterwards to tell him the results and his response floored me:

“Of course you’re negative. I was just fucking with you. I thought if I told you I had HIV you’d come back to me and we’d be together again.”

My mind stopped working.  This man, this man who’d treated me like shit and told me I was worthless had done ALL that, to spite me? To keep me? To break me then swoop in and save me?

How long was that gonna go on for?

Why would he even..?

But you know, I wasn’t mad. I couldn’t be. After all I’d gone through internally, I honestly couldn’t bring myself to get mad.

I went on with my shit.

I learned that desperate people will go to ANY length to keep those they’ve claimed as their own.  Some people are sick, internally.  They cover up their illness, their entitlement issues, insecurity and commitment issues, with excuses.  And “love” is always on that list.

I learned to avoid affection from people who bring me no peace.  And honestly, I can’t love people who honestly believe they don’t deserve affection, they will do ANYTHING to prove themselves right, including breaking your spirit to prove to themselves how fucked they are.  You will fail to love them and, if you don’t learn when to leave, die trying.

They always guilt trip you into staying.

They’ll emotionally abuse you and when you muster up the courage to leave guilt trip you.

My ex’s favourite was “Who’ll be here for me when you go? You’re all I have.”

“Fine, be like everyone else who leaves me…”

“You said you loved me..”

And you know, you really did. You did. But you really can’t anymore. Know when to go.

My friend’s ex girlfriend cheated on him then when he tried to leave her she said “Fine. Leave. Who’d love someone who’s been raped anyway?”

She hadn’t been raped, she’d willingly slept with this guy, this came out as her lie unraveled. But she’d said it.

And that’s how some people are.

She accused this random man of rape because she simply wanted to keep someone she KNEW she abused and manipulated.

Human beings rarely shock me because I’ve come to expect the unfathomable from them, especially when they claim to be in love.

Because most of these people have no idea what love feels like.

We’ve all been infatuated.  But most people never move past that stage.

They take infatuation, attraction, obsession and ownership and sell it as love.  They have no idea how to NOT destroy what they claim to care about.

They cripple in order to keep.

Shamelessly.

And those who haven’t known anything different stay.

They stay because someone cries.

Because they claim to love them.

Because their abuse is familiar.

 

I can say it all I want but some people have to learn that you cannot love these people better.  They will kill you internally and keep your corpse as a souvenir to remind themselves that maybe once they were worthy of love.

And you end up fucked.

You learn the hard lesson that human beings are selfish.  Some more than others.  Some would give you a  gun, ask you to shoot yourself if you love them then complain when you don’t die fast enough.

People are so fucked I could write a book about it.

But these are things everyone needs to learn on their own, including those I love.

I have seen it for myself.  I’ve watched my friends experience it for themselves, and I have learned, cautionary tales are fully believed when lived.

You just have to make sure you step away and live through it to learn from it.

Because like dream hampton said:

“That time you confused a lesson for a soulmate.”

That time needs to come and go or you will be stuck in the same redundant place, mold growing on your heart and mind and subsequently, your entire life.

People who nourish themselves by draining others will never let their sources go.

When it comes to most people, you tell them you love them and they will let you kill them as slowly as you want.  They take it because who wants to believe someone who says it so passionately could possibly harm them?

Who wants to believe human beings are really educated barbarians?

Anyone with the ability to speak has the ability to lie.

I never forget that.

I can’t afford to.

And that might be weird coming from a writer.  But I’m telling you the truth because I had to live through it to get it.

And not all of us are strong enough to live through these things.

I’m telling you so you don’t have to go through it and possibly lose yourself in the process.

This is life.

And it’s grimy.

These are people. With desires and ulterior motives.

And they’re just as grimy.

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” – William Shakespeare.

I hope you don’t encounter them .

And if you do, don’t let their human  appearance fool you.

A Battered Basketball Wife:On Evelyn Lozada and Society’s view on women and abuse

I personally don’t believe that a man has to hit me to know that he shouldn’t. Nor do I believe that love is pain and everything about affection and human bonds needs to hurt. You either have to be a certain kind of broken person or an irrational romantic/masochist to be able to confidently say you would tell your own daughter to go back to a man who’s hit her because now he’s “learned his lesson”. Why does him learning his lesson have to involve ME getting bruised and stitched? Why does it have to take countless tears and counselling on my part for HIM to grow as a person?

Why does he have to disrespect me and hurt me to learn the meaning of respect, and even if it does, why should I go back to someone who can’t grasp the basic concepts of respect, communication and boundaries?

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Back to Black

Oppressor: Well I’m not harming you directly anymore, why are you still mad?

Oppressed: Because I want you to apologize.

Oppressor: But it’s done.

Oppressed: Not for me it isn’t, which is why I can’t move on.

Oppressor: I can’t do anything about how you are now. It’s your fault you’re still sad, let go. Look at you, you’re pathetic.

Oppressed: But….

And this is how it goes.  I never understand why as people we put so much weight on apologies, especially in today’s society where a person with a true conscience is hard to find.

In an ideal world, empathy would be normal, we wouldn’t need to remind people to sympathize.  Remorse would be a rare yet powerful thing to feel, as would shame.  We would not know the confusion that comes with being a victim, we wouldn’t know what it means to put yourself in another’s shoes just to try and figure out why they act a certain way.

In an ideal world, equality would not be something to fight for, freedom wouldn’t be an illusion, we would not be fighting our own thoughts everyday to remind ourselves that we are worthy of respect, or that respecting another human being is necessary, right.

I have never seen, and still don’t, the point in expecting oppressors to all of a sudden feel remorse because you can finally show the pain that they’ve caused you.  Do you not understand that the whole time they hurt you, they knew they were causing you pain? It was intentional. They chose to ignore their conscience,  their “humanity”, therefore there’s truly nothing to appeal to anymore.

As I thought about some Black people’s need to see some sort of genuine remorse, a sign of the accepted equality from those who have hurt them over the years, The Whites, The Boers, basically, the colonizers, I said to myself, Really, it’s kind of like a woman who was abused for years on end going back to her husband, scars still visible, confidence shattered and heart still bruised, and saying ” I don’t care what you think of me anymore, but I need you to say Sorry for what you did.” Does it make sense? How do you think he’ll react?

Can people accept that they may never get an apology for what has happened? That there may never be any real change between our relationship with them and, to quote Janelle Monae “… [they’ll] add us to equations but they’ll never make us equal”? Can we accept that they may not even think they were wrong?

I read once somewhere that the whole Black  community needs counselling. I was young at the time and remember immediately being offended. What did they mean? I understand if they mean Black Americans but we’re fine. Besides how dare they make it seem like we aren’t able to get up off the ground? Don’t they know that black don’t crack? We shall overcome, always. Fuck their counselling.

As I’ve grown I’ve picked up on the subtle and apparent things I missed out on growing up.

Firstly, media.  I remember in High School when Obama got elected for the first term.  People were walking around campus with “GO OBAMA!” signs and I remember thinking “Man, the hell? We’re in Botswana though.” It all seemed disconnected to me and yet I marveled at how the American media could get us all into a frenzy over what was seemingly none of our business. “He’s Black, he’ll help” was the general feeling and I agreed for a bit until I remembered that even back in Slave times, there was always a House Nigger. The one who stayed close to Massa and made sure things ran smoothly. There was always the villager who learned the White man’s tongue in order to easily communicate when and how the people  planned to fight back. What was stopping him from being one such? The fact that he has sat by and watched what’s happening to the image and life of Assata Shakur happen, has been a sure sign for me.

I was pleased at Black people’s excitement over another’s advancement, and yet saddened by their naivete and how years of wearing “The Mask” as Maya Angelou put it, had actually made them forget that there is a bigger picture.

I’ve learned that we are not unrelated. People of Colour in the diaspora, and us, we feel a certain way that others cannot.  We understand pain, the Blues, we understand another’s behaviour not on a scientific level, but through feelings. We watch a news clip where an exasperated Black man jumped of a building and we don’t try and figure out why through interviews and behavioural analysis, we know that sometimes, things just get heavy on the heart. We aren’t bewildered when a starving mother who lives in the slums murders herself and her kids, we are saddened because it happens, and we know.

A lot of people are unaware of the fact that the media plays a huge role in the lack of drive and peace People of Colour seem to be susceptible to.  We look at the surface of it, yes they show us as unintelligent, rowdy neanderthals. Pawns in schemes. Loose, talent-less individuals. Sheep. Nothing worth being respected and a lot of people think “Oh no, I’m unaffected by it.” But do you consider just how much you take in on the daily? Commercials, the internet, news, shows, cartoons, magazines, advertisements, almost all of them have a hidden agenda that they’re pushing and a lot of us take them in.

I flipped through a magazine the other day and was furious.  Why were the women portrayed as airhead chefs whose main mission in life is to ooze sex appeal? Teen magazines that teach young girls to get their degree, but always remember to look pretty while doing so because a guy may be watching.  Married women who’re being emotionally abused being told to pray about it because God doesn’t like divorce and I decided, the media isn’t here for your benefit. You, in the grand scheme of things, are just a customer and a guinea pig. A part of a system that one can never really escape, but one doesn’t really need to be an active part of either.

Young Batswana men wearing fake Trukfit and calling us bitches as we cross the streets.  12 year olds with barely noticeable breasts trying their hardest to walk with their asses out. Parents who are too busy making money and keeping up appearances to bother with their children. Who are unable to discipline their kids because Dr Phil said not to, and a generation, a people, who’s convinced that bettering yourself makes one pretentious, and we still think we’re unaffected because we’re in Africa and some of us have never really had any real political struggles.

Raised knowing Botho means that for a lot of us, being treated badly comes as a shock. We don’t know how to act and that could possibly explain why we wait around, attempting to appeal to others’ humanity, but to quote Assata ““Nobody in the world, nobody in history, has ever gotten their freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who were oppressing them”.

You cannot go to your rapist and ask him to return your dignity/joy, it is something that you have to gather for yourself and force to thrive.

As people, we cannot continue to separate ourselves based on trivialities like we don’t have better things to do like repair our own Spirits and learn.   We’ve gotten comfortable with the abuse and the feeling of being Less Than and we don’t even know it.  We walk around with inflated egos based on the fact that one is lighter/ thinner than the other and raise kids who are willing to act mentally deficient by choice because that’s what we teach them and we’re shocked at the fact that we’re still treated like shit?

That we still get the “You speak so well, not like the others” mess. The way certain White people look at you like the owner of a proud puppy when you can use a smartphone and how the moment racial issues come up, they’re quick to play the victim too and attempt to relate.

Because a lot of us are still happy to be servants and lapdogs.

It’s true.

It’s the way ten Black people will squeeze on a bench to give the White foreign exchange student space for 3 people to sit comfortably.  How we can pronounce their names but they can’t pronounce ours because they’re “too hard” and we giggle it along with them and allow it. How we laugh at the “deep” ones of our race and our men are trying so damn hard to be “real niggas” and abandon as many kids as they can while drinking themselves into a stupor. How we as women try to hard to be Ass Out, Airhead Bad Bitches and we still think we’ve somehow earned Respect from the world at large? Do we respect ourselves?

Listen.

You can be a Real Nigga if you understand that the only reason that they came to get us, truly, was because we could do what they couldn’t. Niggers were strong, intelligent. That’s why even in the modern day they try to pin Aliens on the pyramids because they can’t wrap their heads around how years ago Coloured people were able to do what they did. Niggers were strong, intelligent and hardworking. If you could be that, then by all means, be a Real Nigga.

If by being a Bad Bitch you meant you focused on yourself, worked hard to better yourself by any means necessary and were strong, intelligent and assertive, I’d respect that.

But do you?

We fight so hard internally it seems for freedom and what have we done with the little we have?

A lot of us don’t even know how far we have to go, what we need, who we are.

A lot of us are earning the title of Modern Day Coons.

What are we doing?

Evidently we aren’t surviving anymore, it seems to me we’re rushing towards destruction willingly and trying to pretend to enjoy it.

You, as a person of Colour, whether male or female, what are you doing for your Life?

What do you know?

The meek will not inherit the Earth, they will die. They told your ancestors that because it’s one thing to enslave the body, and another to enslave the mind.

And so I ask you again, what are you doing and what do you know?

“‘Bend over. Touch your toes. Lift her titties. Examine his balls.’ It damn near sounds like a hip-hop song, but it’s slavery at its peak.. A circus for all the freaks,they’ll warn you “Caution when you speak, can’t afford the truth to leak”..”

Sunni Patterson, We Made It
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The kids aren’t alright

As the car passes, I look out the window and see a little girl clad in uniform. Green. She looks about 6 or 7. She has no shoes on. Understandable, we too used to throw them off once the teachers were gone and school was out. She walks for a bit. Stops. Bends over and looks up her dress,concentrating. The look on her face gives nothing away, she’s merely observing, intently.

It’s then I notice the three little boys under a tree, watching her walk away. They’re age mates. They’re young. But what’s going on. Why is she looking at herself that way, in public, after leaving those boys?

I wonder if I think too much, then remember the world we live in.

What do we teach kids about sex?

It’s only for Mummies and Daddies?

It should only occur when you’re in love? Only after marriage?

Or is it still a taboo topic, never to be brought up? “Dirty things”..Sinful acts.

A month or so ago on the BW Government Facebook page there was a post about how young girls are engaging in sexual acts with both their age mates and those slightly older. It went on to say the girls sometimes have more than one “partner” and they were looking into programs to do something about these “shocking” cases.

My response was: “Does it make sense to act shocked when pupils engage in unsafe sexual activities when there are no Sex Ed classes in schools and all they know about it is from Biology, Facebook groups, movies and peers? But then it being this country, even if there WERE such, they’d preach the same shit, the ABC’s, inter-generational relationships being bad and such, without bothering to focus on what’s REALLY going on in the kids’ minds and what would benefit and help them.”

I still feel the same way.

We’ll teach girls not to take money from older men, but neglect to mention not to take abuse from their peers. We’ll teach them they have a right to say “No” but not that sometimes your “No” will fall on deaf ears and you have to protect yourself. Well teach them that boys will like them, but not that sometimes these boys will lie. We forget to teach that their bodies are their own and even though they may mature early, this does not mean they should be used.  That physical maturity does not equate to mental maturity and sex isn’t just about spreading your legs.

We’ll teach the boys about where the penis goes, but not that no girl HAS to give them sex. That just because they have pubic hair, or even before that, just because they’re curious, doesn’t mean they NEED to discover that early. That no, sex does not make you a Man. It is not an accomplishment, even animals do it. And the idea of obtaining sex without the girls full consent should shock and disgust them. That they should be able to judge a female’s maturity and care enough, respect enough, to not take advantage.

Does it even seem fair and sensible?

That we teach girls that they can and will be taken advantage of, but boys don’t get the same lecture? We’ll teach boys about the importance of circumcision and overlook to teach the girls about how to take care of their bodies?

AIDS is not the only danger that’s associated with sex.  By not teaching the kids the negative emotional effects this may have on them, are we also teaching them that sex has no emotions involved? Which would be contrary to the “Have sex only when you’re married to the one you love” mess they’re already taught and kids pick up on hypocrisy.  Future advice would fall on deaf ears.

Often these things are swept under the rug as “They’re just kids, they don’t know what they’re doing” and I don’t know how I feel about that. It makes me nervous. It bothers me because the fact that they’re just children doesn’t mean that they’re exempt from harm.

If we overlook a girl child’s curiosity regarding sexual matters and don’t bother to explain things to her, do we still have the right to complain when teenage boys take advantage?In a way, we did not interfere nor help.So are we not partly to blame?

Does “Teach a child the way he should go” only apply to your own?

And where do we begin?

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Where’s the passion in Death?

“But why is it called a passion killing?That’s not right.” – My Mother

And then it actually occurred to me.  The term “Passion killing” romanticizes murder.  I understand that what they basically mean is that the person was so overcome with emotion that they committed the act, but let’s face it, murder is murder.

It got my thinking.  I had an ex who used to threaten to kill me if I ever cheated. Now at the time it was funny, I assumed he was playing.  He’d told my best friend the same thing and he seemed more bothered by it than I was.  For some reason I assumed that when someone threatened to murder you and meant it, I dunno, I assumed you’d feel it somehow.

As time went on his behaviour became more erratic, it didn’t help that we were hardly ever sober and our relationship resembled clips out of the “Love The Way You Lie” video.

Still, as things got bad, they were still somehow beautiful. I was convinced we were just two passionate people and the outside world didn’t understand us.  My mother hated him and his mother detested me.  We’d disappear for weeks on end from home and lounge about together until we got sick of one another and one of us left.

He kicked me out of his house a couple of times in front of his friends, threw my clothes out and cussed me out.  There were times he would lock me in the house and not let me go to school  because he thought I’d see other men there. It was a mess.  But I stayed.

We’d break up, have tearful reunions, be happy for a week, cheat, fight, then break up again. One of the last times I saw him we fought and he tried to punch me.  In that moment I realized if I stayed I’d be waiting to fuck myself over intentionally.  I walked out of his house and never called him back/texted him.

 

He lost his mind, drugs and stress caught up with him and his family obviously blamed me. As if I was the one prepping them for him/giving him the money to go there. I was home, slightly broken, but fine. Or so I’ve assumed.

Six months later he shows up at my gate, high I assume, at 8 in the morning on a Saturday having walked from his house, which is on the other side of town, to mine to come tell me we’re supposed to have an arranged marriage.  I listened as he rambled on about his new girlfriend, how he needed money and eventually, how he missed me, then I walked into our yard, locked the gate and asked him to leave or else I’d call the police.

Now,I haven’t seen him since, he left town for a bit, but if what mutual friends have said is anything to go by, he’s still pretty mad.

This wouldn’t mean shit if he was far away,  but he isn’t anymore.

A few nights ago I had a dream that he came to my house and tried to kill me. Odd since I haven’t really thought of him in months.  But the Universe has a funny way of aligning shit and yesterday as I was texting a friend he told me said individual was in the tattoo parlour we usually go to, getting one. I texted a mutual friend to ask if he’s around, and he replied in the affirmative.

Now, I’m a tad bit scared, Why? I’m not really sure. It’s been more than a year. Maybe I’m paranoid but at the same time, rather that than careless,no?

 

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It’s The Girl’s Fault, Again.

There’s a man who drives around my neighborhood every Sunday and parks at random turns waiting for young girls to walk past.  He’s old, foreign, has an odd looking beard and pulls off Creepy quite well.

Flawlessly.

I know because I’ve encountered him on too many occasions.

The first time, he was driving past my house and I was walking out. He drove past slowly,came back and asked me for directions. I gave them to him and he asked if I could accompany him. I declined and walked off. He followed me and asked if I’d like to get in his car and go where I was headed. I said no, he said it was unsafe, and I pointed out that it was 5 in the afternoon, I walked this way often and nothing had ever happened to me plus he doesn’t live in my neighborhood so he wouldn’t know. He got angry and drove off.

 

Now, as I mentioned, he’s here every Sunday. I’ve seen him try to pick up girls, and sometimes succeed.  It saddens me every time a girl gets in his car because I can only imagine what follows. For all we know he could be a rapist, a child trafficker, whatever, we’ve already established that he’s a predator.

Yesterday as my mother and I were driving home, I saw him and pointed him out to her. I told her who he was and what he does and she said “Ee,well,he has his reasons.” I stared at her and looked outside the window.

What does that mean?

He has his reasons for trolling the neighborhood for young girls. So does that mean we should understand? Is it okay?  What?

I was unable to respond to what she said because frankly, I don’t think anything she could have said to try and explain what she meant would have made a difference.

“It’s the girls. Why do they get in his car? Ba batlang? They enable him.”

This I understood. But at the same time, we need to take into account that some girls are genuinely naive. They aren’t as aware of the World’s evils as the rest of us. They actually assume that “Let me help you and drop you off where you’re going” means just that. And that’s not their fault. It’s a shame, but it’s not their fault.

The fact remains that sexual predators exist and it’s not as simple as “They exist because girls let them”. It’s not us, these people are this way on their own. It’s a fact that there are those who are willing to be a part of such people’s worlds and that’s on them, but saying “They only troll for girls because girls accept them” is ignorant.  

It’s like “He only keeps raping students because they keep coming to his office after class”.

“She only keeps abusing them because they’re left in her care”.

The World will never be lacking in victims will it?

Nor those who blame the victims, it seems.

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The reality of being a woman in a “forward thinking, free” society.

So I’ve been reading on the Oscar Pistorius case and I’m genuinely shocked at how brutal the murder was. My heart breaks with every new detail because I wonder, what was this girl going through that she hid so well? Can you imagine what it must have been like to be with someone and have to put on that brave face and grin and take it because you’re in the public eye?

I can relate, but I doubt if what I think even comes close to what was. 

It’s just that..Reeva now is acknowledged as The Victim..But a part of me believes society only acknowledges this because of the fact that she is dead. Had she made it through, had this not occurred and had she gone forward and told people he abused her, she would have been the bitch who sought to tarnish the reputation of a Star, a National Treasure even. She would not have gotten sympathy and we know it.

It’s not that people don’t know others get abused, they do, but because they think it’s nothing but a slap, one punch, nothing too tragic, nothing to cause a confrontation over, they don’t get involved. 

It’s not possible for people around them to not have known. Especially people who knew him. But of course it’s easier to attempt to keep his image clean than admit you knew and say you stood by and watched.

He crushed her skull. He chased her around and shot at her. He shot her. He killed her. 

They had been in bed together and whatever had happened, he did that to her. 

Articles cover his accomplishments. “What could have caused this? Oh my. Who knew? We’re so sad..” Her? She gets about 3 lines talking about her life. Because I don’t even think they view her as an actual PERSON. They try to make it seem so..But they fail dismally. She is nothing but another victim, but before that she is The Woman Who Caused Pistorius’ Downfall, to many.

Frankly I never really gave a fuck about who he is. I think viewing him as a celebrity/icon means we think his circumstances were special and some shit we couldn’t understand. Thus he won’t be judged as a mere Man.  People wanna cry but overlook the man who burns his family in a house in Soweto or the one who stabs his wife to death in Francistown over bread..The one in India who pours boiling water on his wife for bringing his food cold. Why? Because they remain nameless to society. Who are they and what did they do other than ruin [another] woman’s life?

We’re so used to women being victims that we only really notice when something incredibly heinous happens, and even then, it gets our attention for a minute.  Women cry, complain, march..And then? Something else happens and we have to switch up to the new victim. 

This is the reality of being a woman in a “forward thinking, free” society. 

Patriarchal men and their way of thinking still owns most of us and our mothers.  Because at the end of the day we’re viewed as expendable, replaceable, we still really don’t matter until it’s convenient for us to. 

 

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Why some women tend to be stupid bitches

This post will contain a lot of swearing.

I will be rude.

I will vent.

I am frustrated.

I’m starting to believe more men hate women out there than we believe.  Have you been reading about these rape cases lately? No, it’s not that rape is bad enough, now they’re gang raping, mutilating, like it ain’t shit. What must happen? What?

I wanna understand. I wanna know WHY. I know the basics, the textbook version of things, but that can’t be it because I’ve been taught that what we can learn, we can fix, but this here is some shit I don’t think anyone was ready for.

See, I’m not scared. No not really. Not for me anyway. I’m scared for the women who walk around with their heads held high, oblivious to what’s going on around them. The ones who think rape is “sad” but, it doesn’t involve them. The ones who have better shit to do than think about that.

What I wanna know is, don’t they understand that what affects one woman really affects us all? Honey, if they begin to hate us, they hate us all. They don’t hate the Blacks, or the Fat ones, or the Rich ones, we are ALL at risk every time we step out the house.

It appalls me that a lot of women are so detached from other women. Who else do you have other than us? I’m not saying men are shit, I’m not saying you can’t depend on them, but ask any female, the biggest issue women have amongst themselves, is other women.

We do not trust each other. We do not care about each other. We do not relate to one another and we do not listen to each other.

The 17 year old that gets raped is not you so you can’t feel that. The 25 year old who’s kidnapped and abused in front of her son is not your sister so you can’t feel that. The 50 year old woman who gets abducted, raped and murdered is murdered is not your mother so you can’t feel that. The 75 year old woman who gets strangled and sodomized is not your grandmother so you can’t feel that.

“It’s sad but..”

I’m saying you SHOULD feel it because on some level, these women are JUST LIKE YOU.

You have different names, stories, beliefs but you are women and considering how SHIT things are lately, what would it hurt to support one another?

I got to thinking about protests after going through my Twitter TL, but their effectiveness is not what I’m here to discuss. It got me wondering… Out of all the women I know, I promise you, less than 10 would be willing to march against rape, or any other injustice women face. Less. Than. 10.

How do I feel about that? I’m pissed off. I’m saddened. Because those who wouldn’t, are those who subscribe to victim shaming, those who turn a blind eye, those who would rather run to the boyfriend who assaults her because she’s convinced herself HE is what she needs.

This is shit.

Fucking. Shit.

Charlize Theron once did a PSA on Rape and stated that every 26 seconds a woman is raped in South Africa. 26 seconds. That’s basically 4 women per minute. For all I know the statistics are worse now.

You are a potential walking statistic, and you still think it doesn’t have shit to do with you?  As much as I respect choice, I can’t respect that one. I won’t.

I suggest you download that and tell me if that didn’t scare the shit out of you. If it didn’t reach a place in you not many things can. I’d like to know if you still think it’s such a far away Evil now.

This right here is what I wish would happen.

Women need to get mad. We need to start to live and protect OURSELVES now, not the perpetrators. We need to stop trying to be Ladies and NOT cause a raucous because we don’t wanna be judged.

The fuck are we trying to act right when we’re being treated wrong for?

Fuck that.

Fuck it.

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What’s Love got to do with Shit?

“We accept the Love we think we deserve” <—— Some cliche shit that makes the utmost sense.

It’s been said a woman will almost always go for the man who reminds her of her father,and I assume the Ladies who grew up fatherless because Daddy just couldn’t be bothered will at some point seek out and adore the Rolling Stone. She will want to love him and tie him down in order to prove that maybe,fuck,maybe Daddy would have stayed if Mommy tried hard enough.

To my friends who assume their lives would be better if their good-for-nothing fathers would have stayed I often say “Sometimes no father is better than a shit father.” It’s funny,I have one,you don’t,and we’re both clearly fucked up.

When you grow up with a womanizing father who treats your mother like a leper servant and lets you know that,really,women aren’t worth much,you don’t really know how to act. Like you aren’t all that important because you’re a mere woman,or like a Goddess because Daddy loved you.

Cos Daddy was God,you know? He was the Moral Compass, the Provider, The Truth. He was the one you could not question, touch and sometimes, couldn’t see. But his presence was always felt.

Daddy was also the reason why you sometimes felt like you lived in a haunted house. Daddy was the reason why Mother never really slept right and had a make up budget she couldn’t afford. He was the reason why maids never stayed and your aunts never visited. He was the reason why you knew what a penis looked like before your friends and why you were so good at keeping secrets.

But Daddy loved you.

As he loved Mama [With his fists].

And loved His mother [With silence].

And loved his women [With sex].

That was Male Affection. And now,that is what you live and crave for.

You fuck them,trap a few,fight them,break them then go silent.

Because that is all you know. That’s that love shit.

I understand exactly why things tend to be as they are. Being Daddy’s Girl means you love as he did,but you are also what he attempted to love,and failed.

Hurt people hurt others and it’s not your fault. You don’t know HOW to love purely,as they do in the songs..You relate to songs about rejection, meaningless sex and heartbreak, Love, True Love that ends with joy, marriage and comfort is for the birds.

Because Love,your Love,cannot be peaceful.

But what’s Love got to do with Shit anyway?

It’s “Fuck it,I don’t need a man” then one night stands til you lose count.

It’s “I’m not capable of Love” then tears at midnight.

It’s “I’m a Goddess” then that “I’m a bad bitch” text… tumblr_mgfhhoGBn11qd2487o1_500