I am a black woman that reclaims the word Slut

blck-grrl:

But my relationship with that reclamation does not come without a price.

Black women do not have the privilege of reclaiming the word slut without validating the historically entrenched idealology and recurring messages about what and who the Black Woman is.

Black women have worked tirelessly since the 19th century colored women’s clubs to rid society of the sexist/racist vernacular of slut,jezebel,hottentot,mammy,mule,sapphire so that may be able to build our sense of selves and redefine what women who look like us represent.

When white women reclaim the world slut, it is considered a revolutionary act. When women of color reclaims the word, the world shoots us a look as if we’ve finally admitted to the truth. 

So I beg white feminists to understand that although we support your right to reclaim ‘Slut’ and wear whatever you choose,wherever you choose,and whenever you choose, we as women of color do not have the privilege and if we DO choose to reclaim the word it is not to be romanticized by white feminists or SlutWalk.

Our relationship with the word ‘Slut’ is a bumpy road, a road that is filled with hate,validation by a racist misogynistic society,and a struggle to maintain bodily integrity in a world that has done everything against us. That is a road that we as Black Women must choose to take, and ours alone, and if we choose not to, PLEASE respect that choice, and do not demand that reclamation onto us. 

I won’t deny I didn’t even know this. I’ll make sure to remember this in the future.

(via ladyatheist)

112 notes

#good to remember

#reclaiming language

happyvegetable:

unfreshing:

Otters Chasing A Butterfly

OH MY FUCKING GOD

No… THIS is perfect

(via pyrates)

69,840 notes

#otter

#brodie

#cuteness

#butterfly

I got accepted.

doctoroftime:

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

I’M GOING TO EXETER.

BRODIE.

BRODIE.

I FUCKING TOLD YOU YOU COULD YOU IT.

YOU’RE TOO FUCKING AWESOME TO DENY.

ENGLAND WAS LIKE

OH WHO IS THIS CHICK WHO WANTS TO STUDY HERE

BRODIE FUCKING WILLIAMS

OH BETTER LET HER IN CUZ SHE’S GOING TO BE FUCKING AWESOME

I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT

NOW TIME FOR CELEBRATION~*~*~*~*~ 

11 notes

#gif

#brodie

#personal

Literally my Dirk/Roxy song

Not even being ironic.

#yup

#personal

#headcanon

tasteslikelemon:

Massive beta guardian feels, is the name of my disease.

tasteslikelemon:

Massive beta guardian feels, is the name of my disease.

73 notes

The first love of my life never saw me naked. There was always a parent coming home in a half hour, always a little brother in the next room. Always too much body and not enough time for me to show him. Instead, I gave him my shoulder, my elbow, the bend of my knee. I lent him my corners, my edges, the parts of me I could afford to offer - the parts I had long since given up trying to hide. He never asked for more. He gave me back his eyelashes, the back of his neck, his palms… we held each piece we were given like it was a nectarine that could bruise if we weren’t careful. We collected them like we were trying to build an orchard. And the spaces that he never saw, the ones my parents had labeled “private parts” when I was still small enough to fit all of myself and worries inside a bathtub, I made up for them by handing over all the private parts of me. There was no secret I didn’t tell him, there was no moment I didn’t share - and we didn’t grow UP, we grew IN, like ivy wrapping, molding each other into perfect yings and yangs. We kissed with mouths open, breathing his exhale into my inhale - we could have survived underwater or outer space. Living only off the breath we traded, we spelled love, G-I-V-E. I never wanted to hide my body from him. If I could have, I would have given it all away with the rest of me. I did not know it was possible to save some things for myself. Some nights I wake up knowing he is anxious, he is across the world in another woman’s arms - the years have spread us like dandelion seeds - sanding down the edges of our jigsaw parts that used to only fit each other. He drinks from the pitcher on the night stand, checks the digital clock, it is 5am. He tosses in sheets and tries to settle, I wait for him to sleep. Before tucking myself into elbows and knees reaching for things I have long since giving away.

Private Parts, Sarah Kay (via stacygirlfren)

(via homoerotics)

623 notes

Page 1 of 357

1

2

3

4

5

Next ›