#im so tired im sick AND cramping AND tiering and i want to do something productive except i dont cause i hate being productive

[teamdays]

she = onika ate = burgers

[redbowedblogger]

he will never understand.

today, i had a heart to heart of sorts with my older brother. he didn't understand why the video he was watching on YouTube upset me. the video in question, was a male who was talking about how the us should lower its age of consent, and how it was unfair that his uncle got three years jail time for having sex with a 17 year old girl. “in lots of countries, the age of consent is 14-15 years old. so why is my uncle serving jail time for having sex with what the rest of the world considers to be a consenting adult.” as a sixteen year old girl, i was clearly upset by this. and he didn't understand. so i explained to him. i explained why i am sick and tired of living in a society witch perpetuates the sexualization of young girls. why this world has made me terrified of walking three blocks from school to my house alone. why i can never feel safe on a subway train, or a bus, or out at night. why girls always walk together to the-bathroom. why we park under streetlamps, why we are taught to walk with our eyes downcast, but always watching. why my mom doesn't want me to work at the beach, or the movie theater, because i could be left stranded alone with a strange man out in the woods or in a dark room. i told him how one in three women are assaulted, and sexually abused, so even if its not me, it could still be six or seven girls i know. how rape culture has made me ashamed to wear a two pice bathing suit, how since i was 11, the second i grew the slightest suggestion of boobs, people stopped saying, “what a cute little girl,” and instead shouting things like “hey hot stuff,” or “come here baby, lets talk,” or the worst “the things i would do to you if we were alone”. how in school, when its 100 degrees and the air conditioning is out,i cant wear shorts and a tank top. he said, “its ok. dad and i will protect you.” so i told him how i was terrified of the day i moved out. how i would always need to check every room of the place i lived. how i would have to carry mace, or a taser, or a gun, just to make it home alive. how dating will become a gamble that this man probably wont kill me. how im going to have to worry about my daughter. how i will never get to truly enjoy myself when  go out because some creep could put something in my drink. how when ever a girl makes rape accusations, they immediately question everything she did, and how they say, “you shouldn't have been drinking, and you shouldn't have worn that skirt.” and how a rapist can get three years in prison, and still return to his collage life, because “hes going places, this could ruin his Carrier, it was a mistake im sure,” but a one time drug user can get put away for fifteen years and kicked out of school? how even in the medical profession, i will struggle to get competent care because a possible exploding appendix or bladder stones are written off as “just cramps” how i will have to hang my head in shame every month as i buy more pads and tampons, because a period is something disgusting and taboo, even though half the population does it every month, with no way of stopping it? for three hours i explained. i told him how, even now, at sixteen, i am afraid, and objectified, and treated like a pice of meat, rather than a  human being. for three hour he listend to me, explain how and why when i think of the future, i see a future of fear. and how i am sick and tiered of being afraid. three hours. and when i was done, he said. “there is nothing i can do to change it.” bull shit. bull fucking shit. stop watching videos, stop making jokes about rape. stop watching TV shows and videos, just because they have an attractive women in them. stop leering at girls on the street. just stop. but then again. i guess he will never understand.