Welp…been a long time since I’ve done an update on here.Not sure if anyone actually reads them,I think I do them more for my sake than anyone else.Been changing a lot.
I’ve been realizing I really need to be out around people as often as possible.At least once a week or three times a week is best.Usually after four days I start getting drained and need some alone time,but being out in town is really important for my mental and emotional health.I can see now why isolation is such a key part of an abuser’s plan.People,if who you are with,whether it’s a friend,parent,partner,tries to start keeping you from having the social life you used to had (unless you are one of those people who was always on the go and honestly do need to slow down a little to make time for them),run for the hills…or would it be away from the hills? Exposure to different types of people is so important.
It’s not always easy to get out that often due to my situation,but it’s my goal.I really want to meet new people and so far I’m at a loss save for eating certain places and being at a coffee place.lol.Cause everyone needs to eat and having literal common tastes would be nice.
I used to have better social skills at meeting new people and have to learn how to do that as the person I am now.I think it will happen,I’m just in that awkward what do I do now stage.It takes practice and lots of it.
But in general,being online a lot doesn’t help me (how ironic I’m putting this online),it used to be one site helped me,and now I’ve outgrown it.Then it was reddit and now it seems to bring me down more often than not.I think they have served their purposes and now it’s time to move on.Reddit,I’m breaking up with you!
If you are female, expressing hatred for your own body is not just acceptable, it’s practically de rigeur. Failure to indulge in the requisite amount of self-flagellation – my thighs! my skin! my face! – isn’t just negligent, it’s unfeminine. Self-hatred is fundamental to how femininity is constructed, more fundamental than any of the more obvious external symbols (dress, make-up, shoes). What matters is not that you are beautiful, but you know your place in the beauty hierarchy (and since every woman ages, every woman’s place will eventually be somewhere at the bottom).
Young women are encouraged to bond over their dislike of excess body hair, surplus flesh and “uneven” skin. They are meant to do so in a jovial way, egged on by perky adverts informing them what “real women” do: worry about having underarms beautiful enough for a sleeveless top, celebrate curves with apologetic booty shakes and cackle ruefully over miserable Sex-and-the-City-style lunches of Ryvita and Dulcolax. It’s a gendered ritual; men get football and booze, women get control pants and detoxes. We are supposed, of course, to be grateful. Hey, you don’t have to be perfect! Just know you’re not perfect and act accordingly, with the appropriate levels of guilt and shame!
Fairy tale after fairy tale tells us that what matters is being beautiful “on the inside” but what does that really mean? It means submission, obedience and the suppression of one’s own desires. Don’t be haughty and proud. Clean the hearth. Kiss the frog. Love the beast. Suck it up when you’re replaced by a younger model. Sure, you may look fine, but you mustn’t feel fine. You mustn’t be vain. You mustn’t be angry. All fury and pain must be turned back on itself. That way you’ll be a real princess: silent, fragile and never threatening to challenge the status quo."
— Glosswatch, Almost Famous, real women, and the normalisation of self-hate. (via nextyearsgirl)