I have this friend

Growing up in a small town, there are not a lot of open minded types. In fact, my particular small town is fairly backwoods and homegrown, surrounded by farm lands and chemical plants. Very working class, very blue collar, minimum wage, God and country. Churches on every street corner, every denomination. One school from k-12, you graduate with the same kids you started kindergarten. Everyone knows everyone. It’s, on its surface, an ideal Appalachian paradise. Situated on the Ohio River, it is a beautiful town plagued by failing economies and home foreclosures. Most of the residents are older folks, a lot of the younger couples moved away when they got the chance. There are not a lot of opportunities for a young person here starting out, unless you want to flip burgers or run a cash register at the local Walmart.

It is in this small town that I met a friend who would change my perspective on equality and come to the realization that equal rights are human rights.

This friend was my best friend throughout middle school. She and I were both social outcasts, outspoken to a fault. We naturally got along well as we both were weirdos and in the social hierarchy of middle school, the weirdos were the ones that had to stick together in the face of ignorant jocks with more muscle than brain and mean bleach blonde spray tanned twigs.

She and I did everything together. Which is why it came as a low blow when we hit junior high that she blew me off.  It hurt more than I let on. I didn’t realize the level of torment and pain she was in, because she realized she was gay. It wasn’t until I yelled at another mutual friend to tell me or else what the problem was that I knew what was up. She was hurting more than I could ever imagine. It bothered me to think about it.

Just a couple years ago I found out this same friend discovered that even though he was born a female, he was a male. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to discover that who you thought you were at first is not in fact the truth about you. It sounds more than some people should ever have to deal. To change your whole life around this, well, it seems unfair and unjust in and of itself. This is not even considering the collateral damage that these circumstances will bring about on your family and friends and community. Based on our backward views of sexuality and what is “normal,” being who you are can be dangerous and even deadly. People fear that which they do not understand, and it hurts everyone to be homophobic simply because you don’t understand basic empathy or compassion for those who are different.

This person continues to be my friend, based on his strength and compassion for his life and those he loves. I hope he knows he is the reason I became enlightened about these issues. He is the inspiration for my activism.

I have a word for anyone who would belittle someone for their differences, simply due to the fear of the differences. You lead a sad life when you have to put others down to better yourselves and to feel more secure in your own sexuality. Apparently if someone’s sexual orientation is enough to make you feel threatened, your own sexuality isn’t very strong. You should do some soul searching and find out why you feel that way. Until you get some enlightenment in your head, don’t talk to me.

Consent: Not actually that complicated

I love this.

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A short one today as my life is currently very complicated and conspiring against my preference to spend all of my days working out what to blog. But do you know what isn’t complicated?

Consent.

It’s been much discussed recently; what with college campuses bringing in Affirmative Consent rules, and with the film of the book that managed to make lack of consent look sexy raking it in at the box office. You may not know this, but in the UK we more or less have something similar to ‘affirmative consent’ already. It’s how Ched Evans was convicted while his co-defendant was not – and is along the lines of whether the defendant had a reasonable belief that the alleged victim consented. From the court documents it appears that while the jury felt that it was reasonable to believe that the victim had consented to intercourse with the co-defendant, it…

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Something to think about

Labiaplasty. Where do I even begin?

First of all, ow. Why? Why would this even be a consideration for some women? How different are we for choosing this than the third world countries that commit female genital mutilation compulsively, where young girls have no choice but to be subjected to hymen sewing and clitoral circumcision?

For those not in the know, labiaplasty is a form of cosmetic surgery that reshapes the female genital organs into some kind of perception of “normal.” It can consist of “revirginating,” (i.e., re-hymenizing), cutting off excess labial skin, and reshaping the vagina. Women request this procedure for a few reasons. Feeling like their genitals are ugly, for one. Older women want to get their groove back in bed after several children and want their husbands or boyfriends to “take their virginity again.” We can blame pornography for a big part of this revolution. Porn stars tend to have their lady bits looking pretty much standard, as it is an industry that thrives on creating a heteronormative female ideal. If she isn’t blonde, busty, tan, blue eyes, tiny waist, and teeny little hooch, then she is not worthy of sexual desire or the male gaze.

I’m confused. I thought that labias were like the women who own them. All as different as can be, but still beautiful in their own unique ways. Newsflash. After childbirth, you are SUPPOSED to change! Your body is SUPPOSED to become mature. It proves that you are a kick ass female who just created a human being and then pushed said human being out of an extremely small space. Your body took a beating. It is supposed to have the battle wounds to prove it. If your man can’t accept that you just did something amazing that he will never understand, YOU should withhold the loving. We have that power as females. So why do we let the male culture tell us what is normal, when normal isn’t really a thing and shouldn’t be confused as such?

Do we really want our daughters growing up thinking that they should be ashamed of their sexual parts because they don’t look like Jenna Jameson’s? It is the 21st century and I shudder to think about how far we still have to go in the name of agency and ownership of our bodies.