end of the week lesson: you CAN choose your friends. and you are who you hang around with no matter how many            times you tell yourself you aren't. momma was right... you won't get anywhere if you surround yourself with people who drag you down. surround yourself with God. because even on wednesday when you skipped church to go hang out with your "friends",                                                   God was still your friend. and those people, they won't be there when you're in college struggling to pass because instead of paying attention in grade school, you wanted to text, gossip, and "live your life". they won't be there when you have to keep paying off your student loan. and they certainly won't be there when you're 67 and you're being sent to a retiring home.

to the boys that broke my heart:

i refuse to sit here and tell you all about how much you hurt me. how much i cried. about the countless tears i shed. or all those nights i didn’t sleep. i refuse!

instead… i thank you. for leaving, for cheating, for lying, for screaming, for hurting me.

you, sir, have helped me grow. you showed me what life is. it is pain, smiles, sorrow, sunshine, hell, paradise, tears, and laughs. and you were only a single, simple sentence in my book, in my story.

i am better off without you. i am a stronger woman. you pushed me down and stepped all over me, but i got up. i am a taller woman than when i was “yours”. i am a braver woman today than before. i am a prettier woman, because i stand alone. i am a smarter woman,  because i let you go. i am a woman.

and i wish you luck on finding one of those…

… a women of passion, love, and strength. a woman… and when you find her, i pray that she breaks your heart so that you, too, can grow……………

 

…… A PAIR OF BALLS AND BE A MAN ((:

Five Year Old Indian Girl Kidnapped, Sexually Assaulted and Left For Dead

The Belle Jar

Trigger warning for rape, sexual assault, abduction, torture and murder.

A reader from India asked me to blog about this at the end of last week. At the time, I told her that I was feeling burned out, but promised to write about it on Monday or Tuesday. I’ve been procrastinating, though. As much as I know that this is something that’s important to talk about, I’ve had a hard time bringing myself to read about it, let alone write about it.

But I promised that I would. And it’s important. So let’s do this.

In India, a five-year-old girl was kidnapped, raped, tortured and left for dead.

She was held captive for four days.

Her parents say that the police ignored their reports that their daughter was missing.

Her parents say that the police offered them money to keep quiet about their daughter’s rape.

She is now in…

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Decolonial Love Notes to Myself

Decolonization

by Jana-Rae Yerxa

photoI want to be fucking great!
Amazing!
Not in an egotistical way
Where it’s about dominance
No, not like that
This wanting
This desire
This need
Is rooted in love
Only love
A humble, righteous Anishinaabe love

I want to be fucking great!
Amazing!
Where I feel alive and exhilarated
I want to be seen
Surrounded by people that truly see me
I want to be celebrated by others
For the very things that I love and admire
About myself
Where I am appreciated
Because I know I am incredible
And they do too

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Being A Girl: A Brief Personal History of Violence

The Belle Jar

1.

I am six. My babysitter’s son, who is five but a whole head taller than me, likes to show me his penis. He does it when his mother isn’t looking. One time when I tell him not to, he holds me down and puts penis on my arm. I bite his shoulder, hard. He starts crying, pulls up his pants and runs upstairs to tell his mother that I bit him. I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone about the penis part, so they all just think I bit him for no reason.

I get in trouble first at the babysitter’s house, then later at home.

The next time the babysitter’s son tries to show me his penis, I don’t fight back because I don’t want to get in trouble.

One day I tell the babysitter what her son does, she tells me that he’s just a little boy, he doesn’t know…

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