Voices

Death is the one thing that connects us all, and yet, it is one area in which we are least prepared.

It’s not that you don’t love the people calling you (unless you’re solely receiving spam calls), it’s just that you’d rather be with them. You think that the phone can’t replace seeing their faces, experiencing their presence in all the dimensions currently available to humans. And sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) you just need time to recharge by yourself. Why does that feel so wrong sometimes?

I would never imply that someone needs to be married or heterosexual to be stronger, feminist or otherwise.

... the last thing I want to do is open my legs for a man to penetrate me. Or to pleasure a man with any part of my body. Even if that man is my loving fiancé, who does listen, who does understand (as best he can), who does respect me through this ongoing turmoil. It is all too symbolic of the lifetime I have already experienced of being fucked and then told to smile and politely ask for more.

... the last thing I want to do is open my legs for a man to penetrate me. Or to pleasure a man with any part of my body. Even if that man is my loving fiancé, who does listen, who does understand (as best he can), who does respect me through this ongoing turmoil. It is all too symbolic of the lifetime I have already experienced of being fucked and then told to smile and politely ask for more.

#YouKnowYoureAFeministWhen… It’s the punchline to a good joke. It’s the start of catchy Twitter hashtag. Right?

This article originally appeared on