I Hate This Body 

I hate this body. I hate it but not in the sense that I’m not comfortable in my own skin. Not in the self-loathing, insecure, human ‘I’m so fat & ugly’ way. I hate this body for all that comes with it & all it prevents me from doing. I hate it for the sole reason that it makes me weaker (or at least perceived in such a way). I hate that I can’t fully be the person I want to be because of it. I hate that I’m supposed to fear men and hate it more that there’s a good reason for it.

But what I hate most is the realization of the fact that the purpose of my creation is secondary. God created Adam then Eve. He ultimately made us to please men & bear their children. 

You carry a “precious jewel” between your legs. One that’s more precious being untouched, but even after, remains of some value. As long as men exist, that thing between your legs, the sad reason for your imprisonment, is desired. As long as you carry what they desire (for the length of your life), you’re not safe. And as long as you’re not safe, you’re not free.

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Shallow Men & More Shallow Women

We complain about men being shallow & only care about the exterior of a woman yet when we see a couple who isn’t “phenotypically compatible”, we come up with obnoxious & hypocritical things to say such as him being blind for marrying someone who doesn’t fulfill our standards of beauty or her casting some kind of evil spell on him because what he sees in her can’t (is absolutely impossible) be what we see. We even go so far as to saying ‘she doesn’t deserve him’ & ‘I would make a better wife than her.’

Who gave us the prerogative to say who deserves to be with who? And why is such a matter not perceived with such opposition when the less attractive (again, by “our” standards) partner is the male?

And the very fact that we, other women, are the first to put out these claims & utter these words is extremely dismal.