I. Am. Exhausted.

 I'm exhausted. I've been exhausted for a year now. Every day as new cases mount and new deaths are reported, I feel the weight of unshakable emotional fatigue. It's inescapable. I get 2 days off to recharge but it never feels like enough. With this in mind, I say, with the utmost rudeness and bluntness:

Don't ask me to do shit.

I am completely tapped out to the point of self-neglect, I don't have the time or mental energy to give to anyone else. The holidays were completely exhausting and not restful. Today is the first day I spent an hour on the treadmill in over 4 months. My running stamina is gone. I've barely worked out and my eating spiraled out of control during the last few months because I was so exhausted I couldn't bring myself to cook healthy meals or move. All I wanted to do was lay on my couch in my blanket, eating a bag of popcorn with nutritional yeast and binge watch my favorite shows. My sink is piled up, everything is a mess, and I just am not giving my labor-- physical or emotional-- to anyone right now. I need to take care of myself, because daily I am close to burnout and there is no end in sight.

So don't ask. Anything. The only person I am giving any mental energy to is my sister, because a) I volunteered to help her, b) she's my sister and has been a pillar of strength and support for me, and c) the spreadsheet she made for her business' finances was physically painful to look at. But that's it. 

I'm going to sit here with my vibrantly green post-workout smoothie and do whatever the hell I want to do with my free time. Maybe I'll log back into WoW. Maybe I'll read. Maybe I'll start a craft project. But it will be for my own mental health, and not anyone else's. 

On a completely separate note, I'm noticing a lot of hits to my blog from around the world, and a lot of my much, much older posts getting repeat hits. I wonder if they're bots or real people? If you are a real person, say hello, and tell me what brought you here. I'm curious, and Google analytics isn't very intuitive.

Black Lives Matter

This has been a very heavy week. With the murder of George Floyd, things have been overwhelming in the world, but it's not a new occurrence and I've written about the murder of an innocent black man at the hands of the police before, and since that post, I've grown more and thought more about racial injustice in this country. I fully support the protests that are happening everywhere because shit has got to change in this country. This country was built on the genocide of indigenous people, the back of Africans that were stolen from their homes, the railroads built by Asian immigrants that were treated no better than slaves. We have a dirty, bloody history of violence and subjugation of nonwhites that is shameful. I've also taken the time to learn more about performative allyship and really stopped to think about what it means to be actively anti-racist. As a white, middle-class woman, I have no place to tell the black community how to feel, protest, mourn, or express themselves. All I can do is shut up and listen and take direction. To educate myself (because it is not on black people, or even my black friends to do that for me). It is my job as to use my nonmarginalized, privileged status to help others. I've also stopped caring about white feelings and have been plucking people off my friends list that use coded, racist language ("thugs"), respond with "all lives matter/police lives matter," or actively praise that shitbag in the White House.

During #BlackoutTuesday, I found myself disappointed. I went to graduate school in part to fight for social justice, especially after my own struggles with poverty and healthcare inequity. To see so many of my former classmates post their black square and then... nothing was, to say the least, disappointing. I did not post a square, but instead I took the time to look at the different charity funds that were set up, to read about performative allyship, to donate, and also to listen to the experiences of black people on social media. I reported hate speech on social media, including anyone who used "alllivesmatter" as a response to the Black Lives Matter movement. I read pieces written by journalists who had been shot at and gassed by the police and subsequently arrested. I also watched clip after clip of unchecked police brutality on peaceful demonstrators. It made me sick, it made me angry, and it made me frustrated with people who constantly respond with "nOt aLL cOpS!" Yes all cops. Because for every cop that beats, murders, or rapes a black person, hispanic person, indigenous person, there are the members of the force that turned a blind eye, who were complicit by doing absolutely nothing to make change. No amount of pro-cop propaganda (look at these cops dancing with kids on the sidewalk! look at these cops kneeling with the protesters!) will make me think that the police force in America is anything but a deeply corrupt institution that needs to be defunded, deconstructed, and replaced with social services that help support communities, to be healthy, safe, with access to equal educational opportunities, access to healthy food, mental health and substance use services, and healthcare, especially predominantly poor communities.

As an ally, it's my place to actively call out racism. It's my place to support and amplify black voices. It's my place to vote out corruption. It's my place to use my privilege as a means to help those that don't have it. I don't say all of this for asspats. I say all of this because as white people, we have never had to fear simply walking down the street, jogging, sleeping in our beds, going to the store, just because of our skin color. Our mothers didn't have to teach us from an early age how to act around police to avoid being assaulted or killed. It breaks my heart when my niece tells me that her best friend says "thank god my son is so light skinned" because fuck that shouldn't even be a concern for a mother with a school-aged child.

Remember, white people, this is not about you, or your feelings. If you go to the protests, remember, you're there to support, so shut up and listen and do as you're told. Have real and frank conversations with your families. Don't brag about donating (I hated to even mention it because I don't like talking about charitable gifts because I don't do it for praise), but don't be silent when it matters the most: when confronting systemic racism in the world around you and when it comes time to vote. Confront your own privilege and make yourself uncomfortable. 

If you are in the position to and want to donate money, here is a huge list to choose from. If you want to step outside of performative allyship and be better, here is an article that can steer you in the right direction. And another list of resources. Don't know how to talk to your kids about what's happening? Here's a resource that may help.

My Spirituality isn't Your Tumblr Aesthetic

I've talked about my spirituality before, but very very long ago, so it bears a refresher before I get into this rant. I discovered Wicca when I was 15 as I prepared to put my beloved dog to sleep and realized that the Catholic faith of my mother (which which I had loosely associated myself) had no room in heaven for dogs. It appealed to my love of nature and my affinity for fantasy (I was particularly interested in herbal healing) and it provided solace to my broken heart as I worked through the grief of my dog dying. I read books, visited the local occult shop when I could, and when I had regular access to the Internet, joined a Wicca message board (and made and maintained friendships with some of those people, even though we have all taken differing spiritual paths over the years). But, as I entered my 20's, something about Wicca felt... off to me. I didn't believe in the Wiccan Rede, I hated how, although it was based on early nature-based religions, it was terribly one-sided in favor of the Divine Female, the Goddess, with little attention paid to the actual duality of nature or the recognition of a God within the structure. I hated the fluffy, feel-good, be nice to everyone and harm NOTHING vibe. I loathed the little girls who thought it was the movie The Craft (which is an awesome movie, don't get me wrong, but it's entertainment, not fact) and used it to rebel against their parents.

At around 23 years old, I reevaluated my spirituality, and decided to drop Wicca as a personal identifier. My spirituality is much more grounded in the world I live in, existing in nature, celebrating the primal energy that surrounds us. I have an animal guide (ravens and crows, which I have tattooed all over me). My own personality is much too grey-area to stick with something so love-and-light as Wicca (which is a modern religion, don't let anyone tell you it's ancient) so I prefer to refer to myself as an extremely solitary, shaman-ish dirt-worshipping tree hugger, because I don't particularly like the term "Pagan," even. Given all this, maybe my rant is going to sound a little salty-old-Pagan, but so be it.

Sooo ~aesthetic~

There is a trend currently of girls appropriating certain aspects of various Pagan religions and declaring themselves "Wiccan" or "witches," when really, they're in it for the aesthetic. It's all over Tumblr and Instagram: aesthetically arranged crystals and candles, all put through a millennial pink or cool, blue-toned filter, alongside pictures of mermaid/unicorn hair (as an aside, I am so over unicorn and mermaid fucking everything) and maybe some witchy-sounding text. As someone who actually worships nature and has spent a long time pondering and evolving her own spirituality, I am actually so offended by these Tumblr witches. Insta witches. Facebook witches.

Owning some pretty crystals and spouting bullshit about your chakras (I guess Wicca is East Asian now?) doesn't make you Wiccan. It doesn't make you Pagan. It certainly doesn't make you a witch. ~Faerie majik~ is bullshit. I'm all for people having religion if it helps them (although I do believe wholeheartedly that organized religion holds us back as a species) or some form of structured spirituality, but come on. My spirituality isn't a trend. My spirituality is primal. I, on occasion, cast curses, because nature is not kind and sweet. Other times, I commune with the world around me and talk to animals (I have always had an affinity for animals). I read the weather in the leaves on the trees, in the clouds, and behavior of animals. I feel the world around me with every fiber of my being. I am happiest near trees and with crows nearby. It is not enough to have some shiny rocks that you've "charged" in the moonlight to be any form of Pagan. It's a belief set. It's a faith. If you want to take aesthetically-pleasing pictures of crystals and candles, by all means, do so, but don't pretend to belong to an established religion or faith when you don't know a damn thing beyond what pop culture throws at you, and you don't actually believe in what it says. Religion and spirituality are personal things, and Tumblr witches discredit those of us who have taken the time to examine our faith and refine our practices.

I'm not the only one that gripes about this. I'm friends with all sorts of flavor of Pagan, and we collectively roll our eyes at newly-minted batches of pastel-haired "Wiccans" who fill their feeds with pictures of crystals and sparkles and faeries because it's so aesthetic. Yes, there are some pretty tools in the more modern practices, and some gorgeous things crafted by talented artists that can be used for rituals and such, but pretty things shouldn't be the basis for choosing a religious path.

Maybe I am a cranky, salty old witch. Lately, as I've been craving being primal raising up some energy (it really has been a while), I've been stewing on the topic. I've been stewing on it for a while but maybe it's the upcoming new moon, maybe it's some amazing ancient Northern European inspired music I've been listening to, but I've felt my spirituality particularly acutely these past few days and seeing fake Pagans makes me salty. Maybe I'll go send out energy for their Instagram accounts to be hacked. ;)

Bi Erasure, Biphobia, and Treating People Like a Fetish

Pride month is wrapping up, and I've had a few thoughts that have been stewing at a rolling boil just below the surface, and it started with The Babadook. I am not "babashook" about people elevating a horror movie character (from a fairly good movie, mind you) to the New Gay Icon(tm) and proclaiming that the B in LGBTQIA+ stood for Babadook. I am not here for that at all. And neither are other bisexuals.

Other? Yeah, about that. I'm bisexual.

Apologies to my family who find out via my blog. I never felt a "coming out" was important or necessary, because all of my relationships have been with men and let's face it, we all know I'm too huge of a catty bitch to have a functional relationship with a woman. It's not a big deal. I don't even particularly care about labels, but if you want to put one on it, there you go.

Back to the Babadook and why it's a big deal. Bi erasure is a huge problem not only in mainstream media but within the LGBTQIA+ community. Bisexuals are faced with stigma, exclusion, and treated like they're too gay to be in straight spaces but too straight to be in gay spaces. At the best, bisexual people are ignored. At the worst, they're either treated like a fetish for straight-identifying people or instantly categorized as inherently unfaithful and untrustworthy partners.

Let me tell you why the way bisexuals are treated is bullshit:

1. A bisexual person is perfectly capable of being in a committed, loving relationship with someone without being "tempted" to cheat, without feeling like they're "missing out" on the other sex. I am a ridiculously faithful person, even with a partner 1,200 miles away that I haven't seen in a year. Don't tell me I'm a cheater because I'm bi!

2. If someone tells you they're bisexual, your instant response shouldn't be "wanna have a threesome?" Please. That gets old really quick, and I can tell you, threesomes are kind of overrated, awkward, and boring. I'm not here to be your unrequited fetish fantasy.

3. It's not that I can't choose. I am attracted to both. It's how I am. Penises are awesome. Vulvas are awesome. It's not a phase. If it is, it's a 20 year one.

4. Bi people aren't bi for attention. If I was bi for attention, I would have... come out?

I'm sure so many others have written about the topic of bi erasure and biphobia much, much more eloquently than I have. But the whole point of this blog was to work through my feeling and thoughts as I wandered through my day-to-day life. So to sum up: I'm bi. No I don't cheat. I'm not attracted to you, don't worry. No I don't want a threesome. Yes I belong in queer spaces. No it's not a phase/for attention/because I can't choose. Yes I am valid. Yes I am visible. Yes I belong.

Oh and P.S., stop being shitty to asexual, intersex, gender noncomforming, nonbinary, trans, and other erased members of the community. They're just as valid.

Dear People in Customer Service

I'm taking a break from the last two weeks of hectic grad school wrap up to rant a little (did you miss me?). I am going to preface this with my work experience: about 3 years in a retail, face-to-face setting, and almost 9 years in a call center. That's a long time in customer service. I've trained customer service representatives. I did that for 2.5 years. I know what I'm talking about.

Getting my hair done is a treat. On average, a hair appointment for me, for a cut and color, can go anywhere from $50 - $70, depending on how complex I want my dye job to be. I haven't worked, aside from a 10 hour a week graduate assistantship, for 2 years, so I hoarded gift certificates from Christmas and my birthday so that I could get my hair done today, two weeks before I graduate, 5 days before a job interview for a job I really want. My life right now is busy and stressful, and getting my hair done is relaxing. I know my hairdresser, she's family, and the only person I want to touch my hair. She owns her salon and booth rents to other hairdressers. Today, as she was doing my hair, she was nearly going out of her mind as one of the girls that booth rents from her chattered at her client nonstop about her personal life. It was obnoxious. I offered to get rude.

Another preface, that's relevant to me: I am a weird combination of A-type personality and huge introvert. I get annoyed easily, I don't look outwardly approachable, and when I'm in a situation where I am receiving service from someone, I usually want it done as soon as possible. This is why I love the nail salon I go to. Their English is limited so they don't feel obligated to carry on a conversation, they're busy so they're working as quickly as possible. I'm in and out on a good day in about an hour with a fresh fill and polish. It's a win-win for me.

Somewhere, somehow, the service industry interpreted excessive chattiness as good customer service. That this loquaciousness was somehow endearing to a customer and built loyalty (and in addendum to this, calling every customer "hun" "sweetie" or, to my horror getting coffee the other day, "darlin'"). It's actually not. I wasn't even her client and I was getting annoyed by her constant stream of excessive, personal information. Yes, in an industry where you have regular customers, it's okay to get to know them, it's nice to chat. But, if you're going to do that, let the conversation be two-way, know your client's personality, and remember you're in a busy public place, and keep the conversation professional. I've overheard many, many conversations in the salon over the years that I never wanted to, and I'm sure clients didn't care to hear, either. Hell, when monitoring calls in the call center, I overheard agents sharing way too much with customers they didn't know, and you could hear in the customer's voice how awkward they felt, and how much they didn't want to have to hear it, but didn't want to be rude and interrupt (except one guy who told a coworker of mine ages ago "will you just stop talking?" which still makes me laugh to this day, because she had one of those horrible, saccharine voices that makes you want to stab out your ear drums with a hot poker).

Save the personal conversations for your friends and family, not your clients, whatever service industry you're in. No one wants it. It's awkward and your coworkers secretly hate you.

In addition, I think this sounds like a fabulous idea.

Stop Telling Me to Give Him A Chance

In the wake of the horrible news that Donald Trump will, indeed, be the next President, I've swam through a sea of ignorance, white male privilege, and pure hostility on Facebook. I spent a good portion of yesterday unfriending and unfollowing people that support and spread the rhetoric of hate and intolerance while I tried to reconcile my own feelings, only to sit on my couch crying and feeling nauseous. This election season has been so stressful, and I get it, people are tired of hearing about it, tired of campaigns, tired of media oversaturation. And that's okay. I'm tired too. I'm emotionally exhausted, but my brain is already trying to think two steps ahead to plan how I'm going to help people most affected by this national tragedy. And as I try to think, as I read about the fears people have, I keep seeing the same things written by people over and over, people who don't get it, or people who lack empathy and compassion for others to see exactly why we're scared.

"Give him a chance"
"It'll be okay"
"He has no real power"
"Get over it"
"Stop whining"

On an on the apologist litany goes. I will be totally up front that I do have a level of privilege being a middle-class, educated, white woman in a largely rural state. I've never been sexually assaulted and despite dancing with poverty and mental illness, I've had a relatively comfortable life. But reading these sentiments over and over makes me sick. Why? Because these are the things rape apologists say about the victims of sexual and domestic assault when they try to use their voice and stand up for themselves and expose someone for the predator they are. And that's not okay.

I am scared. I am scared for my fellow women, queer folk, trans friends, friends of color, friends in a non-Judeo-Christian religion. I am scared of the culture of hatred, racism, and misogyny that has already sprouted as people are reporting harassment, threats, and assaults, all in less than 24 hours of the election results. For the first time in my 36 years, I am genuinely afraid of sexual assault. This is a Trump presidency. It's already happening. So no, I will not "take the high road," I will not "give him a chance." And it certainly will not be okay. This will be an unbearably long 4 years. Let's support each other.

Ways to help:
Donate to help transpeople get their names and genders legally changed here
Jezebel has a great (and expanding list) of organizations that support women, transfolk, people of color, immigrants and refugees, and people with disabilities that you can help by donating or volunteering here
Support the ACLU

Being Hormonal Doesn't Give You Carte Blanche to be a Bitch

This is a rant I've been saving up for a long, long time. This isn't directed at anyone, but if you want to take it personally, go ahead and blame it on your scapegoat, hormones.

I don't know how many times I've heard pregnant women blame their pregnancy hormones on being absolutely awful to people around them. The same women, who if they acted the same way when not pregnant would be labeled a "bitch" and "obviously on her period." The hormones are the same, whether you're pregnant or PMSing, so let's have a seat and talk, shall we?

Ladies, being hormonal--whether you're pregnant or not-- is no excuse to be an absolute, terrible bitch to everyone around you. Check your goddamn selves because you're feeding the misogynistic stereotype that women are ruled by their hormones, uncontrollable monsters on their periods, precious sweet creatures morphed into evil demons by that mean baby in their tummy. Ugh. Stop. And if you're so newly pregnant that your pregnancy test just barely registers that you are pregnant, you have no excuse except that you want to be a horrible abusive bitch and get away with it. Yes, hormones can make you grumpy, yes, they can give you mood swings. But take some goddamn accountability for your actions. You're not a base animal, you have agency, and control over your actions and the words you say. And this isn't just aimed at pregnant women; if you're PMSing and you feel mean, maybe stay away from people? Use breathing exercises, or what I do: loud angry music in the car/working out. But please, for the love of dog, stop using it as an excuse to be horrible!

You Are Not Entitled to a Wedding Invitation

By popular request, my wedding invitation rant, straight from my Facebook. Cut and paste for your pleasure! Nothing has been added.

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I know of a few people planning weddings right now. Wedding planning is stressful as hell, and weddings are expensive. So when people post about their happy day, whether it be the initial "we're engaged!" announcement, or progress on their venue, etc., the appropriate response is "congratulations!" Appropriate responses do NOT include "I had better be getting an invitation!" or "I'm invited, right?"

What the fuck makes you so entitled? You're not. The couple is under no obligation to invite people to avoid hurt feelings, whether they be friends or family. Weddings are EXPENSIVE. Not only is the couple paying for venue, photographer, officiant, etc., they are paying FOR YOU to be there. You're getting a free ride on them, and if they decide not to invite current or former coworkers, distant relatives, YOUR CHILDREN, or not allow a plus one, that's their decision, because you know what? It's THEIR day, not yours. Nothing about it is about you actually.

And demanding/asking to be invited is rude as hell.

I know someone who was asked CONSTANTLY about an invitation to her special day, someone she didn't particularly want to invite, and it made her uncomfortable. Wedding planning is stressful enough to begin with, don't be the asshat that adds to the stress because YOU, as a special motherfucking snowflake, HAVE to be invited or the world ends.

If someone does you the honor of inviting you to their wedding, be gracious. And for fuck's sake, dress up. Nothing says "I don't really care" than showing up to a wedding (or a funeral, for that matter) in jeans and a t-shirt.

Valentine's Day is a Load of Bullshit

I don't think I've ever ranted about Valentine's Day before, but I'm kind of glad I waited until now, because my thoughts are a bit more cohesive about why I intensely dislike this "holiday." And because I like lists, let's do this in list form!

1. If you love someone, show them every day, not just on one arbitrary day a year. Let's start off with one of my biggest gripes about Valentine's Day in general, and that's the fact that it seems like a "catch up" day, the day you really have to prove to your significant other that you really, really love them, and here's a stuffed bear and chocolate to cement that proof! I'm sorry, no. If you really truly love someone, you should treat them like  gold every goddamn day, not some arbitrary saint's day in February (surprise, it's another Pagan holiday turned Christian feast). You should want to spoil them with affection all the time. Getting your partner little "I love you" gifts shouldn't be reserved for one day a year. If they matter, show them every day that they do.

2. It's sexist as fuck. Yes, it's sexist. Let's think of the marketing. Everything about marketing Valentine's Day is about getting her gifts. It plays into the stereotype that women are shallow, greedy princesses and if you don't get her just the right gift, everything is ruined. Where are the advertisements aimed at gifts for men? Where are the gifts for men in that aisle that is a sea of pink and red and teddy bears?

3. It's terribly heteronormative and exclusionary. What about homosexual couples, transgender couples, and nonbinary individuals? Why don't I see people of color in advertising? Valentine's Day marketing tells me that it's a holiday for middle class, heterosexual, white people. And don't even get me started on how shitty it makes single people feel to see all this emphasis on love and being part of a couple and having it shoved down your throat at every turn. I'll even admit, it gets to me a little, and I'm happy being single.

4. Speaking of marketing... it's just a holiday for sales boosting anyway. I mean, think about it. It's February. Between Christmas/New Year and Easter (and I understand this is theocentric as far as Christian holidays) there really isn't a major holiday. Something needs to stimulate economy. In the winter, flower shops don't do as much business, retail locations are down. Why not market giving flowers and chocolate as a solution? It's big business. It's an $18.6 billion holiday.

These are my big 4. I'm sure there's more reasons floating around in my noggin about why I think Valentine's Day is bullshit. But for now, that's it. Monday, I'm going to enjoy the marked down chocolate from this commercial day.

Also: Valentine's Day engagements are tacky. So are weddings on Valentine's Day. Sorry. Be original.

Let's Stop Policing Each Other, Okay?

Lately, I've gotten back into doing makeup, so I turn to the Internet for inspiration. I already live on the Internet, so I can see what a horrible place it is. People, especially when it comes to makeup, are so hell bent on cutting others down instead of building them up. It runs the gauntlet from "you would look better with less," "I don't need all that crap on my face" "girls who wear makeup are insecure" "this is why I have trust issues" (followed by "take her swimming on the first date!"). There's more, so much more. Beauty blogger and makeup artist Samantha Ravndahl  quite succinctly talks about makeup shaming in an older video on her secondary channel.

What does it matter if a girl wants to draw on her eyebrows? I, personally, am not a fan of the heavy, fade-in-front Instagram brow, but you know what? What other people do with their makeup doesn't affect my life. And news flash, neither does how someone does their hair or the clothes they wear. Makeup is a means for personal expression, and if someone wants to contour the hell out of their face, or overline their lips, or draw on eyebrows, or wear minimal makeup, it's their choice. No one else's. Want to get lip injections? Awesome. I personally love Kylie Jenner's lips. Boob job? Rock on, because I'm not brave enough to get one myself. There are these outmoded "rules" to makeup that are more about controlling a woman's appearance than actual "beauty." Rules designed, in part, to design women that are appealing to men. Those rules need to be thrown out.

However, before we can throw out those rules, women need to stop cutting each other down. Don't like someone's makeup? That's okay. What's not  okay is to tell her she's ugly, insecure, a slut, a clown, etc., etc.. Instead, we should be building each other up. It takes so much more effort to comment negatively on a picture on Instagram, a video on Youtube than it is to just scroll by. Why are you so concerned with how another person looks? It's like the women who try to tell other women that leggings aren't pants. If you want to wear leggings, go right ahead. I'm not going to argue with camel toe. And bigger girls can wear them too. Let's stop policing each other's bodies and appearances, okay?

I see it all the time on Facebook. The fat-shaming memes are the worst, especially when paired with the exploitative and violating "people of Walmart" posts. Why the fuck are you making fun of the appearance of some stranger and posting it on the Internet? What if that was you? So what if you think their outfit is ridiculous, does it affect your life at all? No, it doesn't. That's a person you're publicly shaming, a person with feelings. It's disgusting and it needs to stop.

Open Letter to a Scumbag

Dear Scumbag,

You recently posted on your Facebook (yes, I can still see everything you do, motherfucker, and no I won't tell you how) that your grandmother would have a lot to say to you right now if she was alive. Let's talk about that, because I'm sure as hell she didn't raise  you to be unfaithful or to be such a liar. If I accuse you of cheating to your face, you will lie, you will backpedal, just like you did years ago when all I wanted was a casual fuckbuddy and you swore it was over with your girlfriend. But it wasn't, and I realize this is a pattern with you. You weren't done with her when you were asking me to send you nudes, and you weren't done with her when we started fucking. And you swore, during our 5 year relationship that you weren't the type to cheat on a woman. You swore you'd work on our problems and not cheat on me. The fact that so many of our fights were about my lack of interest in sex and that you would repeatedly say "I haven't cheated on you yet because I love you" should have been a red flag. But I was blinded by love. I took the blame for my lack of libido and clung to hope. But you know what? Fuck you and the fucking boring sex we had for five years. Fuck you and your excuses when I'd tell you the sex was boring. "I'm too tall for that position to work" "we just don't fit that way" (maybe because you were too fucking fat and unwilling to change, maybe your dick is too small). And when I got suspicious of that coworker you started talking a lot about? Fuck you. I had a right to be suspicious, and I was right. A month after you dumped me, I found out about her. And I did the math. And I tell you what, an emotional affair is still an affair, even if you're not getting your dick wet. But most off, how dare you lie to my face on the day I sit crying on your couch as you dump me and I straight up ask "is there someone else?" How dare you lie to me and say "no, I just need to be alone for a while." I can take the cheating. But how dare you insult my intelligence by lying to me. Did you think I wouldn't find out? I'm more Internet-savvy than you. You knew this. Did you want to get caught? There was a short time I thought we could remain friends, but not any more. You fucking disgust me. I realize after 5 years I wasn't anything to you. You didn't dedicate Facebook albums to me. You made excuses every time I talked about moving in together or marriage. You didn't care. You're the most disingenuous, disgusting scumbag for wasting my time for so long. You knew my stance on children 5 years ago when we met, went with me when I got my tubes tied, so suddenly you're a family man? Fuck you. Fuck you and your cheating, lying, fake self. You've freed me by breaking up with me. You've freed me to go back to the person I was, who I always was in my heart, and I've gone back to living my life for me. Oh, and I've had more amazing sex since you dumped me than we probably had in the last year. So thank you for that. Thank you for showing me I should never have trusted, should never have committed to a relationship, just like my instinct told me. You took a bird and caged her. Now I'm free. I'm on the prowl for men better than you, even if for a casual fuck. Because there's an honesty in being a slut that you don't get. You didn't play the game right and I hope she cheats on you like you did to me and the one before me. I hope you feel pain and betrayal. I hope you're lied to and your trust shattered, like mine was. I hope you hurt. Have fun with your downgrade, asshole.

Cordially,

Your Again-Slutty Ex

You Don't Have to be Sexual to get the Attention of People That Matter to You

The Internet is a huge place full of people and information. I love the Internet. I love social media and the global community it creates, but I'm going to get real fucking serious here, and pretty damn honest. Yes, I flirt with guys online, and sometimes it leads to an exchange of pictures. I'm a consenting adult, in full control of my own sexuality. It's harmless fun, "spank material" if you will, with other consenting adults. Imagine my surprise tonight when I got a private message from someone I have a hell of a lot of respect for (we'll call him "L" for privacy reasons, since he is a public figure) telling me that one of my spank material guys often inappropriately messages minors. I was horrified (even if my initial response seemed flippant) and grossed out. I stewed on it for hours. I messaged L back asking "how the hell do we help young girls protect themselves?"

I completely understand what it's like to be an insecure teen, having a mad crush on a gorgeous, unattainable guy (or girl, whatever). Suddenly, after weeks or months of yearning, that person looks at you, or, in the world of the Internet, likes your Instagram photo, likes your Tweet. Inside, your heart flutters, and you think "they finally noticed me!" It's elating. Even as an adult I get that way sometimes, everyone gets a little star-struck. But when you're a teenager, it can be problematic when your obsession is a legal adult and you are not.

So where does it go from there? Adults on the Internet have a certain responsibility to interact with people appropriately. When someone is clearly under age (especially if their profile says their age) it is incredibly inappropriate to leave comments of a sexual nature. Bottom line. I don't care how much older a person looks than their age, they're still a kid and unable to provide consent. I liked L's response to how he handles responding to his fans online:

"You'll notice I only ever respond to people on IG [ed: that's Instagram] with a none (sic) romantic reply. I never leave hearts or sex stuff.. ever. I want the fans that interact with me to know that you don't have to be sexual to get the attention of people that matter to you."

 Emphasis on that last line is mine. It may seem hypocritical, coming from someone outwardly sexual like myself, but that statement is so, so important. I get the lack of confidence, I get the elation at being noticed, I get it, but by putting yourself out there sexually, as a minor, you're not only attracting negative attention, but the wrong people. Because there are, sadly, people out there that will exploit the vulnerabilities of insecure teens and that leads to a downward spiral of potential sexual abuse. No. It is sexual abuse. Teens can't consent, and if you exploit them when they're vulnerable, knowing that you're attractive enough to get what you want from an emotionally fragile, naive teenager, you're a sexual predator of the worst kind, and I don't have any more time for you.

So what the hell do we do? Well, let's get rid of this bullshit patriarchal idea that girls are only worth how their bodies appear, and that they must always present themselves as desirable to get attention. I was that ugly, fat girl, and as an adult, well, I look pretty on Instagram but I'm pounding away at my keyboard right now with a horrible pimply mess on my face and hair that's gone too many days without washing. Men still find me desirable, even when they see me gross as fuck. It's because I'm intelligent, confident, and assertive. Confidence and assertiveness I had to learn, they didn't come over night. I figured this out on my own, but that was really pre-Internet and social media, so it  was a different time.

The question is, how do we help girls now find their confidence, to attract the right people into their lives? A lot of it is education and parental involvement. We hear sensationalist news reports about online predators, but are we having actual two-way dialogues with kids about how they present themselves online? Actual, true conversations that don't involve shaming? A true predator can easily identify and exploit a vulnerability. There are a lot of resources online, and a few links I found interesting to start with:

How To Have "The Talk" With Your Kids (About Internet Safety, That Is)
Raising Confident Daughters in a Changing World
Talking to Kids and Teens about Social Media and Sexting
A Girl's Nude Photo, and Altered Lives

I don't pretend to have answers on this. It's a tricky, complicated subject that needs to be approached with sensitivity, and honestly, the best way is to start a dialogue with each other and also step back and look at our own interactions online. I welcome any conversation or additional resources.

Are You Seriously Tryna Holla At Me?

I'm going to get my personal vanity right out of the way right now: I'm hot. I know I'm hot. I don't look my age and I'm really skilled at using makeup to highlight my features (mainly, my eyes). And I have huge tits. I may be chubby but I have confidence and I've been told that's sexy.

I recently signed up for VampireFreaks.com because Jesus, look at me. I'm practically a vampire myself, and that's what I tell people. I tell them I come from a family of non-aging vampires and that's why we all look vastly younger than our actual ages. Plus, I have natural fangs. Anyway, I thought VF would be a good place to meet other Goths because I also live in Maine, and while I love my home state, it's very... rednecky? I don't see a whole lot of Goths around, and the ones dabbling in the scene are kids. So I thought joining a website dedicated to Goth culture would be neat, maybe I could have conversations with people and learn about events in my area, get exposed to new music and just overall drool over beautiful people.

What I got was a lot of lame attempts to hit on me. The most WTF-inducing was this one:

Can you kidnap me take me home and BBQ me for dinner?(:

...What? I didn't even respond. A majority of the initial messages I get are "heyy." How are you about to start a conversation with me with that? Jesus, as I write this blog now, another fucking bizarre message pops up in my inbox:

Would you eat an ant sized person for a billion dollars

...What? What the actual fuck?

Guys, seriously. I get that you see a pretty girl and you want to talk. Maybe get in her pants. But "heyy" will never get a response, and jumping into something weird and sexual also won't. I'm not looking for any sort of relationdateship right now, so if you want to get to know me and use that information to flirt, awesome. If you're lonely and need human contact and someone to talk to, awesome, because so does anyone else, and if you're relatively intelligent and polite, I'll give you my Kik user name. But sending "heyy" and then in the next breath asking for nudes? Rude. Now, I have met some really cool people on there and we have actual conversations. It's fun! It's stimulating! But man, am I disappointed in the lame attempts to get attention. I'm not going to cyber you, dude. Go away. Thanks for telling me I'm hot, I appreciate it, but the conversation is over. Go 'way.

Does that make me a bitch? I  don't think so. I hate to sound like one of those people that blames technology, but "heyy" seems to be the commonly accepted icebreaker these days, and honestly, I don't even give them a second glance. It's a burden of being pretty, that people want your attention, but I have a brain! Try harder! There's substance under this pretty exterior!

Don't Apologize for Being a Sexual Person

Recently, a single friend posted a meme about dating other singles, and I, as a recently single person (yes, it's true) suggested "just sleep around, that way emotions never get involved." I was promptly called "whoreish" by a pile of human garbage (a former coworker I've never liked and don't understand why people like her at all, but that's beside the point) but instead of rising to the bait to start a flame war, I replied "you do you" and left it alone. But honestly, that's why I have a blog, and I can't leave it alone. It's no one's right to make a judgement call on another person's sexuality and sexual identity. Gather 'round, kids, it's story time.

Here's a brief timeline of my own sexual growth (this will be TMI for some, so I understand if you don't care to continue reading):

Age 10: First discovered masturbation, completely on accident. Decided this was a good thing.
Age 16/17: Still a virgin, started thinking I might like bondage some day.
Age 21 (22?): First kiss.
Age 27: Lost my virginity (yes, a very late bloomer), first serious relationship.
Age 28 (almost 29): First serious relationship ends
Age 29: I buy my first sex toy (and worth every penny)
Age 29-30: I engage multiple partners and pithily give them Borg designations. I think I had as many as 5 going at one time
Age 31: My first (and only) bondage/flogging experience
Age 31: Second serious relationship
Age 32ish: My libido TANKS
Age 35: My libido is back after eliminating hormonal birth control
Age 35: Single again

What does this timeline show us? That I was a virgin until late in life and had to "catch up," that I am/was a raging slut, that I was a bit socially retarded with sex? Not really. Just because I lost my virginity at 27, doesn't mean I haven't always been a sexual creature. I discovered masturbation early on and the excitement of the lingere section of department store catalogues, R-rated scenes on HBO late at night. I read my friend's mother's romance novels as a teenager, opening them at the creased spine to the steamy parts. I was sexual, I was awakened, but I was shamed. It's a hard thing to express, and I think Pamela Madsen sums it up pretty well in her Huffington Post article:

What we are is fragmented and that is what we are conditioned to be. We are conditioned from the earliest of ages to successfully sever the core of our sexuality, that most basic of human behaviors, from the rest of our lives. 

I don't blame my parents. Ours is a family that doesn't talk about stuff, in general (it's a generational thing) and while my older sister I think tried to give me a sex talk (at which time my brother-in-law butted in an gave me the sage advice of "don't do it") I really relied on media to teach me. And I figured out a lot of things on my own. A lot of the things I figured out taught me that the media lied to me about sex, that society prioritizes and prizes the myth of female virginity, and that I should be ashamed that I masturbated and thought about sex:

We learn to feel ashamed of sexuality in general by being constantly exposed on the one hand to images and messages that say that sex is great and that happy, successful, popular people have sex and on the other hand to messages that say that sex is indulgent and sinful and wrong, and that it leads to disease and betrayal and death. We learn to feel shame about our own particular experience of sex and sexuality by being hit with a steady stream of messages that tell us the only sexuality that is okay is a very narrowly defined one (heterosexual, young, white, non-disabled, skinny, middle class people who do it to make babies and then once a week as an expression of their undying love for each other). The truth is that even if you are some of those things, none of us are all of them. Sexuality can't fit into such a narrow frame. In other words none of us meet this ideal.

Around age 30, I had something of an awakening. I had a "fuck it" moment and realized that at that point, I had been living my life for other people and not myself, and that included my sexual expression. I had come out of a serious relationship with my very first sexual partner and realized that there were other shapes, sizes, and flavors of men to experience, and there was nothing wrong with wanting to explore that. At first, I had to overcome the internal conflict; overcoming three decades of socially-induced sexual shame isn't easy. I had to rationalize a lot of things, and decided that, if I wanted to play and have multiple partners, I needed to take a more business approach to things and define a set of rules not only for them, but for myself. This held especially true when I set my sights on a married man. Yes, a married man. I won't say that I was right or wrong in it, but it was just sex, transactional, emotionless, tension-relieving sex, and a small bit of a power trip (okay, a big one) knowing that I was pretty enough and sexual enough to get a man to stray. I won't apologize for it. 

I won't apologize for any of the sexual experiences I've had, whether society finds them morally reprehensible or "unladylike" or what the fuck ever judgement society wants to pass. I treat every experience as a learning experience, and during the time that I had 4 or 5 guys on retainer, I learned a lot about sexuality, about what I like, don't like, how I am selfish, and how my partners were selfish (I had one that refused me oral sex but demanded it of me). I'm not going to apologize for being a woman who expresses her sexuality. I will not apologize for being a woman who has sex.

And neither should you. Never apologize for being a sexual person. Don't let others tell you you should be ashamed, that "women don't act that way," that you're not being "classy" (again, whatever the fuck that means). The sexual double standard holds that if I was a man, I'd be getting high-fives from my dudebros right now for my sexual past, but, as a woman, I am labeled a "slut" and "whoreish." 

Fuck. That. Noise. 

Do what you want to do and be proud. Fuck who you want to fuck. Explore. Try something new. Stop being ashamed that you masturbate. Stop lying to yourself that you don't enjoy sex when you do. If you want someone, approach them; what's the worst response, "no?" Be proud of your breasts, get to know your vagina and your clitoris. Explore. Be happy. But in no way, in no form, does anyone have the right to pass judgement on how you, as a person, are a sexual person, to impose their own moral belief-set on how you live your life. It'll be hard at first. Take baby steps.

Let's Talk About Minimum Wage

Let's look at a picture some of my friends have posted on Facebook recently:

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Look familiar? Even if it doesn't, it's something you've probably said, or heard someone else say. But can we honestly talk about how a) classist and b) incorrect this is? Let's. I'm going to start out that I'm not talking about a specific amount when I discuss why the minimum wage should be increased, because I feel that really should correlate with the cost of living in an area. For my area, for example, I think a $10- $11 minimum wage would be an appropriate and liveable wage. Let's continue.

1. If you've got minimum skills, minimum education...

This is probably the thing I take umbrage with the most. You see, I worked in a shitty, minimum wage job once in possession of a nice, expensive degree. Why? Because it was a job. To assume that people working in minimum wage jobs are unskilled and uneducated is classist, elitist bullshit. Sometimes it's difficult to find jobs in your degree field. Sometimes you get let go from a job and you need something to get you by. Maybe you decided you wanted to take a different path in life or are working toward a degree. Maybe you are skilled but no longer able to perform the job you were skilled in. 

2. ...show minimum motivation and provide a minimum contribution to the workplace...

So we're again assuming that minimum wage workers are exclusively lazy, unmotivated ne'er do well's that only function to take up space and oxygen. Great. That in and of itself smacks again of classism, but also racism, but a surprising statistic shows that 77% of minimum wage workers are white, and half are white women. I personally know someone who has worked at a fast food establishment for... god, ages, because she genuinely enjoys her job and her customers. Yes, there are people out there that are content and enjoy what they do, shocking.

3. Minimum wage jobs exist due to demand of service

Like anyone, I get a craving for McDonald's fries and a double with cheese (and extra onions) from Wendy's. Since we don't yet have replicator technology, someone has to make these things. When I go to the bathroom in a public place, you damn well know a robot didn't clean it. And, when I buy something from a gas station convenience store, there certainly isn't a self-checkout. Whether you agree with raising the minimum wage or not, these jobs are necessary. 

4. But EMTs/Firefighters/the Military don't even make that much! Why should fast food workers and janitors get paid the same/more?

Just, shut up. Out of all those jobs, the only ones that make near the minimum wage is a Private (E1) with no experience. EMTs, commensurate on experience, can make anywhere from $14- $24 an hour, firefighters significantly more. Also, by devaluing workers at minimum wage jobs by saying they don't deserve higher wages because they don't save lives or fight for the country is divisive and leads me to my final point...

5. Wage gaps and keeping the minimum wage below a liveable amount is classist.

One day John took me for a drive through Augusta when I  saw a Rite Aid that seemed terribly out of place, not clearly located next to any other businesses or homes, so I said how odd it looked. He turned down the side street and pointed out a medical center, then a nursing home, and going much further down the street, away from view of the main roads, a housing complex, hidden away like a dirty secret. This was one of the pockets where Augusta kept their poor, sequestered and secreted away to stay poor forever. It made me a little sick. The national minimum wage is $7.25 an hour. Let's say I earned that and worked 40 hours every week, that would net me just over $15,000 a year. My rent is $600 a month, so right there, half of my salary would go to shelter alone, which leaves not a lot for car/travel expenses, food, or emergencies. Why are we doing this disservice to our poor, keeping them poor? $7.25 an hour is not a liveable wage for anyone I know.

Slactivism: My New Favorite Word

Lately, whenever someone finds a bandwagon cause to spread like wildfire through social media, I'm the one to shit on it. I've written about feel-good, ineffective activism twice alone in the context of breast cancer awareness, pretty sure I've ranted hardcore about the ineffectiveness of "thoughts and prayers" in the face of national tragedy. Now I'm here to shit on #icebucketchallenge.

For those of you not familiar with the ice bucket challenge, it is quite simply dumping a bucket of ice water over your head and filming it to post on social media or donating to alsa.org. Then you tag people to either do the challenge or donate within 24 hours. Everyone, it seems, has gotten on the bandwagon, including celebrities (like Martha Stewart, seen to the right). Sure, this whole thing was started by someone with ALS (Lou Gherig's Disease, for those of you like myself who had to look it up), but really? It's silly. This is one of the things I stew on in the car on my daily commute, and it wasn't until I was able to check my Facebook feed later this morning that I was able to find an article that really sums up how I feel about nonsense like #icebucketchallenge:

Slacktivism is a relatively new term with only negative connotations being associated with it as of recently. The whole thinking is that instead of actually donating money, you're attributing your time and a social post in place of that donation. Basically, instead of donating $10 to Charity XYZ, slacktivism would have you create a Facebook Post about how much you care about Charity XYZ- generating immediate and heightened awareness but lacking any actual donations and long term impact.

Have I not ranted about this before, specifically in the pinkwashing of everything in October for breast cancer awareness? What about the Boston Marathon bombings? Everyone was "Boston strong," buying up merchandise that contributed zero dollars to the victims while essentially doing nothing effective at all. I'm not saying people aren't donating, because apparently in the last week alone, the ALS has gotten over $168,000 in donations, but honestly, I don't see anyone on my Facebook bragging about having donated. Why not, instead of buying ice and posting videos that no one really cares to watch, we just, you know, donate to the cause?

Social media is a wonderful thing. I'm a social media junkie. But social media activism is a joke. It truly is "slactivism," a way to feel good about yourself for caring but not really doing anything impactful. I'm not saying we shouldn't bring awareness to serious causes, and social media is great for that, but if you're going to do it, make sure you're doing what you can to also enact change/donate/otherwise help the cause. Posting a pretty photoshopped picture to your wall really does nothing, nor does dumping a bucket of ice water over your head.

Why are People so Disrespectful of My Choice not to have Children?

In approximately a week, I get to pick up the conversation I started with my doctor a few years ago: sterilization. Realistically, and having been a member of childfree forums for years, I know that, while my doctor is cool with it, the OBGYN she refers me to will probably put me through a battery of questions including "what if you change your mind?" "what if your partner wants them?" and so on. I expect that from a medical professional (as shamey as they sound) because they're just trying to cover their ass in the event a woman changes her mind post-procedure and tries to sue. While I think the questions can be a little archaic and too gender-biased, they're still appropriate to ask. What's not appropriate are for non-medical people to constantly ask and question my decision.

One of the things I come across a lot and very recently is the "you don't like kids? You'll like my kids!" mentality of people around me. Listen. I don't like kids. I have never liked kids. I don't want them, and I don't want to see yours. You show me a picture on your phone and I will find something else more interesting in the photo to comment on. You insist constantly on showing me pictures after I'm clearly not interested and I'm going to be less polite. But when I say "I don't like kids" and your response is to force images in my face in order to "fix" me, to convince me that your kid is the special snowflake that will change my mind, that's just disrespectful and rude. Your kid is cute to you and not me. Nothing will change that. Ever.

Listen, I'm 34 years old. I've known I don't want kids since I was 10 years old. Nothing is going to change me and it would be a whole lot nicer if, instead of being so completely shocked that I, as a woman, don't want kids and trying to change my mind, you supported me instead. I am grateful that I have the reproductive rights that I do, that I am able to make my own decisions about my body, up to and including abortion if I ever got pregnant, and sterilization so I never have to worry about getting pregnant (never mind that I'm reaching the cut-off date for safely taking hormonal birth control). Any woman who is open about not wanting children shouldn't be made to feel as though they are less a woman, that they won't know true happiness because they won't have the love of a child in their life (don't even get me started on that one), or that they are being selfish in their decision. Instead, they should be supported and encouraged. Knowing you don't want children and dealing with the social stigma and the bullshit comments people make is difficult. Don't be an asshole to people whose life paths are different from yours, even if it involves not reproducing.

Don't Say Asshole Things About Weather, Okay?

I've been stewing on this a couple of days. Tuesday night I whined on Facebook that I didn't want to go back outside to take my trash out because I hadn't warmed up from my drive home three hours prior. We've been having an incredibly, dangerously cold winter this year. Anyway, someone who I am acquainted with from my previous job but was never close to responded with "you know you live in Maine right?" 

That is just the most asshole thing to say. I almost lit into this person but I'm working on controlling my impulses. But seriously, living in Maine doesn't mean I automatically love the bitter cold and snow. If I'm cold, I have the right to be whiny. Don't say such asshole things about the weather to people, okay? I stewed and finally unfriended the person yesterday. 

Anyway, rant over. I'm still fucking cold. Come on, spring!

Why I'm not Offended by Superheroine Costumes

I'm a total geek: I play video games, D&D, read comics (both American and Asian), and own more Batman shirts than any one person probably should. I'm always a fan of strong female characters in any setting, whether in a fantasy novel, comic book, or video game. I always play a woman in games. I even give them skimpy outfits.

*record scratch*

What?

Look at Spider Man twerk it out!

That's right. Skimpy outfits. I dress my female role playing characters and video game characters in the stereotypical skimpy outfits that you see in comics, cartoons, and other things. When I was playing DC Universe Superheroes (seriously, the instruction books need to be rewritten... the rules are so ambiguous and disorganized!) I rolled a rogue-like, Bohemian Revolution-era corsetmaker that wore a Kevlar corset and some fun knee-high boots (her name was La Croix and could summon ravens because it's me playing). Even when I played WoW, I would run around trying to find the skimpy gear to equip my female characters with. If a game lets me modify bust size, you better believe I am giving my character the biggest tits I can (I want to play a character that has similar attributes to myself). So how can I, a feminist, even conceive of creating characters designed to objectify them?

Seriously. This is hot.

I really don't see skimpy superheroine costumes as sexist or objectifying. Growing up, I thought it was awesome. As an adult and a feminist, I see the impracticality of the outfits because really, they aren't covering much at all. Look at Wonder Woman to the left (and check out the artist's gallery, his work is amazing, and he has a lot of awesome Wonder Woman portraits!). She is still wearing the iconic Wonder Woman onesie, but she is muscular, strong, powerful. That's how I see my female characters; I don't see them as pieces of womanflesh running around on a screen or in a comic book, but as strong women that can wear those skimpy outfits because they are so badass that they can defend themselves and fight their own battles. Some feminists get offended by the costumes and would see them covered completely, like you can see in this article. Honestly, when I first saw those images, I thought they were done by someone who either hated their own body or wanted to body-shame other women. I thought the costumes were ridiculously dowdy and unempowering. I didn't see strong superheroines any more.

With the world of comics, cartoons, fantasy novels, and superhero movies I am able to lose myself in a fantasy world of strong, powerful women. Xena is my spirit animal, Wonder Woman my muse, Huntress my inspiration. Let's worry less about the costumes on these positive and strong female figures and more about the empowerment they can offer little girls and women.

Reevaluating what is Considered "Feminine"

Lately, I've seen more and more positive images of heavily-tattooed women in the media. What really got me thinking about this topic was the Motorola Moto X commercial that shows (at right) a woman with a full sleeve. While we can't see her face, we have peeks of femininity in her hair, the polish on her nails.There's another commercial I've seen (I couldn't find a still of it) encouraging people to shop local for the holidays, and there, in one scene, is another sleeved girl, a trendy, arty shop owner with her wares. All too often, the stereotype surrounding heavily tattooed women has been that "women with tattoos... are promiscuous....If a women [sic] does have a tattoo its is suppose to be easily hidden and look 'feminine' such as a dolphin or a butterfly. Women with darker such as a black and grey piece are considered to look manlier." Thankfully, media is starting to portray heavily tattooed women in a much better and kinder light.

I remember, in a recent marathon of LA Ink I indulged in on Netflix, that Kat Von D mentioned something about being heavily tattooed and still being feminine and soft. I really wish I could find the quote (the only thing people seem to want to quote by her is something about every tattoo having a story, which is so cliche. Meh.) because it stood out to me and it was something she mentioned several times on the show. But it's true; if you look at Kat, you see an incredibly feminine woman, not some butch biker chick. This is important. It's no one's business what you put on your body, but the negative stereotypes and body shaming need to stop. Women with lots of tattoos are beautiful and feminine.
 I  personally can't wait to be heavily tattooed (maybe not quite to the same scale as Kat, but I plan on having both arms, a full back, both ribs, and my legs/feet done at some point) and wear them proudly. I wear the ones I have proudly already. Does it diminish my femininity or my ability to do my job? Not at all. A mother with tattoos is no less feminine or a mother for having them. And insert that statement for a woman of any profession, art, or skill. Will I cover my sleeve when I get married? Hell no! I look forward to being a tattooed bride; my own confidence in being a woman will shine through and the tattoos are just a (very expensive) accoutrement to the whole ensemble.

I'm up to an (incomplete) half sleeve now. Another crow, and more lilies. And FYI, getting your armpit tattooed hurts. A lot.

He's going to be painful to fill in...