Goyohany - Gouo

“i looked at everyone and wondered where they came from, and who they missed, and what they were sorry for.”

— jonathan safran foer, extremely loud & incredibly close

"Don't see yourself as a victim"

Oh, I'm sorry, do you think I was a fucking volunteer?

Every time you think “they could have hurt me worse”, remember that you shouldn’t have been hurt at all. You should have received support and help on everything you struggled with. You should never have faced pain from the hands of your loved ones. You should have been safe and happy and without a care in the world as a child. That’s what you compare your abuse to. 

Your abuser can have depression. They can have a variety of disorders. And you know what? It’s never gonna be an excuse for what they did.

too much

@/horrifically //  Igor Shcherbakov, Sinichka. (oil on canvas), 2019,  // Nicole Homer, Underbelly // Daniele Valeriani // @serratedpens // Takehiko Inoue, Vagabond illustration

it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.

bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.

the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.

what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.

i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.

i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.

and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.

i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?

Dear diary... (Trigger warning)

At 13, I hoped I would never turn 15.

At 15, I hoped I would never turn 18.

At 18 I thought that would be it. I thought I would be dead before I got to see another year.

I never wanted to make it this far.

Now I'm about to turn 20...

I hate the fact I'm still alive. I hate that after so many years of wanting to be dead, and actually trying to die, I made it to this point.

I feel so lost now. I never wanted to live this long. But I'm stuck in this world. I could never find a way out in all those years, and now I'm doomed to keep living a life I never wanted.

I wanted to die. But I'm so useless I couldn't even get that right.

A way my therapist has told me to approach childhood trauma is thinking about the child who went through the traumatising ordeal. You may resent yourself for not fighting back, not doing enough, or not running away, but you need to see the young child who was there, the one who needed protection, not persecution

My reaction if rihanna was doing my makeup.