My paternal grandmother lives in the mountains of Haiti. She refuses to leave her little plot of land and her animals. Till this day, I have yet to see my grandmother wear heels, lipstick or any sort of makeup. She was married young, she had 8 children which she raised while still working the farmlands. My grandmother doesn’t wear pink, My grandmother doesn’t pitch her voice purposely, my grandmother does flutter her eyelashes, she doesn’t wear glitter, the most she’ll ever do with her syrupy black hair is two Wendy style braids.
My grandmother never had to wake up and contemplate that she was a woman. Her mere existence is a staunch reminder of that. The toll of being woman is marked throughout her body. From raking framlands with a full belly, to feeling her sore old joints when she lays at night, a reminder of the burden of womanhood at old age. Her dark and aged fingers tells the story of the earth she worked and the children she cared for. I refuse to allow anyone overshadow her womanhood with high heels and gold dresses and a penis. Fuck that. You know nothing about being a woman.
Being a woman is pregnancy and farming. Ok.
It’s really interesting that’s all you got from this. For many women that’s the reality that they face everyday. For many women in third world countries it’s carrying children that they don’t necessarily want and having the responsibility to take care of them and entire fucking families
Being a women is being placed in positions that you didn’t necessarily ask for
Being a women mean shelling out kids because your husband and your country doesn’t believe in contraceptions
But since you want to reduce your activism to your 1st world bullshit. Like this is why white feminist can’t ever be trusted I swear to fucking God.
Being a woman has nothing to do femininity and everything to do with the responsibility enshrined because of the female body.
You should probably stop identifying as radical if you’re refusing to acknowledge the life of women in underdeveloped countries.
“As a pro domme, I was in no way acting as a “strong, empowered, women in ownership of her own sexuality”; it was the furthest thing from it. I mainly abused men, for pay, and it made me feel truly masculine, powerful, and strong, even though it put me in a vulnerable situation legally and physically (safety). There is a term in kink lingo that (poorly) illustrates how dommes can be the unwitting servants: “topping from the bottom”. The male always wielded the power, that it was ever handed over was only an illusion for his sexual gratification. The reality was that I was intensely servile, under a mask of dominance that even I thought was real. The fact is, the act of kink (or sex, stripping, etc) for pay put me in a truly submissive position, having to cater to male needs, and desires, in order to survive financially.”
“As a pro domme, I was in no way acting as a “strong, empowered, women in ownership of her own sexuality”; it was the furthest thing from it. I mainly abused men, for pay, and it made me feel truly masculine, powerful, and strong, even though it put me in a vulnerable situation legally and physically (safety). There is a term in kink lingo that (poorly) illustrates how dommes can be the unwitting servants: “topping from the bottom”. The male always wielded the power, that it was ever handed over was only an illusion for his sexual gratification. The reality was that I was intensely servile, under a mask of dominance that even I thought was real. The fact is, the act of kink (or sex, stripping, etc) for pay put me in a truly submissive position, having to cater to male needs, and desires, in order to survive financially.”
Celtyradfem 