I need feminism because my own father believes that he can silence my vote with his bullying because I am a woman who is strong enough to stand up for myself and against his backwards ideals!
I’m sorry for the run-on sentence.
I come from a family of strong women. My mom raised my two sisters and I to be strong, free-thinkers to the best of her ability (she may have made mistakes, but this post is not about her). However, in recent years my father and her husband of 25 years has become abusive to her and us. Maybe I’m only opening my eyes to it now, or maybe he just snapped one day. Either way he flies into a fit of rage whenever things do not go his way and he is very controlling of my mother, my sisters and I.
He has beaten my mother on several occasions for saying or doing things that he considers “out of line.” He hasn’t hurt my sisters and I physically (yet) but his emotional abuse takes its toll.
Recently, we were eating dinner with the TV on like most people do in the US. A political ad came on, one for Obama warning about what Mitt Romney wants to do to women’s bodies and rights. My father flew into a rage and yelled about how Mitt Romney is correct when it comes to women’s bodily and working rights. I disagreed with him. I stood up to him because I can’t stand to hear that coming from a man with three daughters. It hurt me on a deep level, though I shouldn’t be surprised.
When I stood up to him, he threatened to beat me if I voted for Obama. He threatened to silence my vote and not allow me to attend on election day (I cannot drive so I cannot get to the polling station myself and absentee ballots are not an option). He went on to say that “this is why women should stay out of politics.”
I need feminism because I refused to be silenced. I will find a way to get my vote counted, and I will find a way to stand up to him for my little sister and my mom. More importantly, I swear to whatever force that may exist out there, when I get a job (I have been applying for months) I will get us out of here and away from my monster of a father.
I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was on the pill until he found them in my purse.
I went to the Student Health Center—they were completely unhelpful, choosing to lecture me about the importance of safe sex (recommending condoms) instead of actually listening to my problem.
Then I went to Planned Parenthood. The Nurse Practitioner took one look at my fading bruises and stopped the exam. She called in the doctor. The doctor came in and simply asked me: “Are you ready to leave him?” When I denied that I was being abused, she didn’t argue with me. She just asked me what I needed. I said I need a birth control method that my boyfriend couldn’t detect. She recommended a few options and we decided on Depo.
When I told her that my boyfriend read my emails and listened to my phone messages and was known to follow me, she suggested to do the Depo injections at off hours when the clinic was normally closed. She made a note in my chart and instructed the front desk never to leave messages for me—instead, she programmed her personal cell phone number into my phone under the name “Nora”. She told me she would call me to schedule my appointments; she wouldn’t leave a message, but I should call her back when I was able to.
And that was it. No judgment. No lecture. She walked me to the door and told me to call her day or night if I needed anything. That she lived 5 blocks from campus and would come get me. That I wasn’t alone. That she just wanted me to be safe.
I never called her to come to my rescue. But I have no doubt that she would have come if I had called. She kept me on Depo for a year, giving me those monthly injections in secret, helping me prevent a desperately unwanted pregnancy.
I cannot thank Planned Parenthood enough for the work they do.
Curious Georgiana (via sexistmorons)
But Planned Parenthood would be the first thing to go if CERTAIN people got into office.
Yet, the GRAND OLD PARTY isn’t waging a war against people with vaginas. Nope! Nope, nope, nope. No fuckin way is THAT what is happening.
This woman needed birth control, she was in a situation where she HAD to have it. But instead she was shamed by the college and by others. Shamed for what she needed.
This is why we NEED to keep Planned Parenthood. These people care. They want people to be safe and healthy and happy, without judgement and without hate.
(via homostuckhomestuck)
Damage
This is not my usual post. But it’s something I had to share. As you read this, imagine how your reaction would differ if this story were being told by a woman, talking about how her husband treated her.
I have been separated from my wife for over a year, though we continue to share a house. We live on separate floors. We share the house because we need to parent our son together, and because we can’t afford to maintain two households.
I’d like to tell you a story, illustrating one reason why I am divorcing her. This is an example of the treatment I have received over the past fourteen years.
This evening, while she was drinking her wine, my estranged wife took exception to the fact that I wanted to talk about how tense she’s been. She said she didn’t want to talk about it.
I left the room (so as to comply with her request).
I went upstairs to use our tiny guest bathroom. She began to yell and throw things around the kitchen, then eventually charged up the stairs and into the bathroom, just as I was finishing and getting ready to leave. She confronted me there, holding her half-full wine glass in her hand. Her voice got louder, her gestures wilder.
She complained that I had upset her by wanting to talk when she had told me she didn’t want to talk. As I began to feel uncomfortable, I said, “You’re saying it’s my fault you can’t express your emotions responsibly like an adult?”
She said, “Yes!! It’s because you want to go off and take a vacation with your girlfriend!” Then she threw the contents of her glass in my face and smashed it against my bare chest.
The results are pictured here.
I stood there, with shattered glass at my feet, glass shards sticking in my skin, bleeding, for five minutes or so. I asked her to move so that I could leave. She waved the broken stem of the glass in the air and said, “Leave!! Who’s stopping you?”
I told her she was standing between me and the door. I felt threatened.
She laughed and said, “You’re 6 foot 3 and 250 pounds! You can’t feel threatened by me!”
I said, “You just broke a glass on my chest and cut me. You’re standing there with the stem in your hands. Yes. I feel threatened.”
She said, “No, you don’t.”
I asked her to move out of the way and let me pass. I didn’t want her to think I was pushing her or threatening her.
She held her ground, waved the broken stem and shouted, “Go on! Leave! I’m not stopping you!”
After I asked her repeatedly, she finally moved a bit and I left, carefully stepping over the broken glass.
I have posted this here as evidence, and to help those who may think that size and gender make a difference when abuse is concerned. People who, like my estranged, think some have permission to feel threatened and some don’t.
Abusers come in all sizes and genders.
She and I went to a half dozen therapists over the years. At each initial session, every therapist took a look at me, then at her (5’4” 150 lbs.). Then he or she would gravely ask my wife, “Do you feel safe?”
None ever thought to ask me.
Thanks for listening.
