Who am I?
I,
I’m my thoughts,
My dreams,
My aspirations.
I’m my name,
My looks,
My imagination.
That’s what I see,
When I stare,
Into my reflection.
My reflection,
Ripples in the river of life,
The shallow,
Shallow river of life.
To the world,
I am my reflection:
I am only what the world sees,
Only what the world decides I am.
My body is but a vessel;
Why must the world ignore me,
But acknowledge the vessel?!
Books, merely objects
Are still judged
By only their covers,
So who am I to demand
They not judge me
By only what they can see.
The inside of a book
Is where the value lies
But most people don’t bother;
It’s easier to judge
From the outside
My body is a part of me,
It embodies my soul
My personality,
But it is not all I am.
I am not my scars,
My disability,
I am me,
A completely separate entity.
I, Me,
Not just what you see
bodies
Hoe Phase
Why is it that when men sleep with multiple women or have multiple partners that its empowering and applauded, but when women decide to experiment and embrace their sexuality they’re shamed? Growing up I’ve seen the different ways that sexuality has a huge double standard. But I feel like as long as both partners are being safe and considerate, why does it matter who sleeps with who? It’s not like it effects anyone else’s life other than the ones involved, but yet someone always has something to say.
Girls are always told while growing up if you have multiple partners throughout your life time that you are of lesser value then someone who has waited to save themselves for marriage or someone that has slept with only one or two people. But in reality, just because you haven’t had as much experience it doesn’t make you any different than someone who has lots of experience. Sometimes women feel the need to experiment with their bodies, just like men do. Women just want to feel pleasure, just like men do.
This generation of young adults are completely shifting the views on sexuality and what is now considered ‘normal’ and ‘acceptable’ and it’s amazing. But let me say this, no im not promoting people to sleep around, catch unnecessary bodies and to be unsafe because there are still things to worry about such as disease and unwanted pregnancy. All im saying is stop demonizing women that also enjoy sex and don’t want commitment. There are now female artists that talk about their sex life in their music, such as Nicki Minaj, Megan the Stallion, and Sexy Redd. But it’s not just about sex, it’s about female empowerment, it’s about women being able to express what they like and what they don’t like.
Am I Able To Do This??
Many thoughts and questions go through my head with the world of ignorance we live in today. How do I keep going? Will I be successful? Will I be able to have the dream family, dream lifestyle, dream anything that I want? Sitting back and deeply thinking, you won’t know unless you do something for yourself and those protective around you. Being a young Afro-Latina in today’s society is hard, whether it’s in terms of pregnancy, civilization, or my own self-image. I come from a family line of women who dealt with traumatic pregnancy terms, or even reproductive issues in itself. A line of men who have suffered from cancers varying from lung to low blood cell count leading to other health issues. Thinking about starting my own family scares me. I always track back to the story my mom told me: the doctors didn’t catch my faint, irregular heartbeat at eight, almost nine months. The umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. What if that were to be me in about 6-7 years with my first born and I’m not conscious of it? Or if I am ignorant and decide to not get check ups and discover something too late? I always tend to think the negative rather the positive, so clearly that’s a sign of something psychically that I need to work on.
New Body
I woke up one day with a new body and it wasn’t the first time.
The earliest memory of my first body was when I asked my father, “if I cut myself and then bleed out, will I get smaller?” He laughed and said that it doesn’t work like that. I remember having thought long and hard before asking him this question because at 6 years old, it just made sense. Perhaps that was the first time I got a new body. Surely I had one before but I didn’t notice it but this new one I saw was too much. Too much of what exactly, I wasn’t sure yet but I knew I hoped it would shrink some to make me feel better. I kept that body for a while, probably until 8th grade right before I went to high school. Throughout that time I began to realize what I didn’t at six. That this body was too big. I was always the tallest person amongst my peers and sometimes I was the fattest too. In middle school I found a way to cope with these feelings of taking up too much space by making that body the punch line in jokes. I saw how others who had bodies like mine were treated and figured it was better to be the one to take charge of my own disparagement rather than be on the receiving end. When we learned about whales having blubber in science class, some students started naming classmates who had “blubber” (i.e. were fat) and I quickly decided that it would be funny to call the fat on my arms blubber and I would shake it to make my friends laugh. For me, it was better for that body to be laughing, not crying even though it felt the same inside.
I got a new body the day I was helping my older sister move into her college dorm and she commented on the size of my butt. I was confused because we all knew to have a big butt meant you were sexy and attractive and everything this body was not. I was suddenly aware that the body didn’t look the same as when I was six but was somehow the exact same. It seemed that the body I gained that day had new forms. It was still Ugly but…? I kept that one until I was 19 years old. I grew to accept the polarizing experiences I had in that body. That body got catcalled while playing volleyball because of the spandex we wore but also was stared out because of how it looked compared to the white, thin girls who dominate the sport. I could go a day with it being the last thing anyone wanted to be around and later that same day it could be the object of someone’s desire. That desire was typically sexual and the person was likely older than me. I always thought that this body had potential but…… At 19, I hated that body. I saw myself going back to the ways of my youth by saying to people, “I’m so ugly. Aren’t I ugly? Tell my the truth, I’m ugly right?” Initially I got the responses I likely was looking for, denying my assertions and telling me no. Then one day after I went through the whole act with my sister she sighed, exasperated and said “Yes!” I think that was something I wanted to hear too. I needed validation for my feelings of hatred towards the body so many other people told me was not the ugly I saw in the mirror.
Since 19, that body changed shape a few more times but really it’s still the same. What’s really changed is how I view it. I enjoy being in this body despite constantly working to change it. This body likely has an eating disorder (LOL) but I don’t remember a time when I didn’t avoid mirrors or taking selfies so I wouldn’t have to look at it so I’m taking that as a net positive. I haven’t decided whether or not my body is my own. I thought I was getting a new body (it’s always either a “good” one or a “bad” one) every time I realized there were different ways that people were perceiving it. In reality, this body may have grown taller, changed shape, or lost and gained weight but it was the same fat Black feminine body in an anti-Black, anti-fat, and misogynistic world. This world both fetishizes and disposes of people with bodies like mine and it’s always confusing to be on the receiving end of such differing responses to it. A question that has always stuck with me in regards to our bodies and positionalities is “How can I live differently in the same world that harmed my parents when I look just like them?”
“Yes, and the body has memory. The physical carriage hauls
Claudia Rankine, “Citizen”
more than its weight. The body is the threshold across which
each objectionable call passes into consciousness— all
the unintimidated, unblinking, and unflappable resilience
does not erase the moments lived through, even as we
are eternally stupid or everlastingly optimistic, so ready to
be inside, among, a part of the games.”
How is this body my own when it holds the history of my ancestors’ first body in a new world? How can I get rid of the negative thoughts that always linger? This current body has never changed but becomes new whenever its beholder has a new use for it.
I’m hoping for just one more body but I want to see it in a new life.
Stuck in my Body
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The Body Neutrality Bubble
Is it possible to adopt a body neutral mindset in the face of external structural notions about what the body should be?
Image Description: The image depicts a graphic from bewitching.net that has a green background and colorful splotches with text. The middle pink splotch says Body Neutrality. It is surrounded in a circle by 5 other splotches that say be grateful for how your body functions; focus on how your body lets you be in this world; your body deserves respect; practice self compassion; your body isn’t an accessory. Each text has a different body next to it posing.
Body neutrality is a contemporary concept that describes the practice of adopting an objective, arguably more function-oriented mindset towards one’s physical self. Popularized in 2015 by Annie Poirier, body neutrality as a concept encourages individuals to view their bodies as physical vessels that allow them to experience and conduct through daily life. Some find it to be a stepping stone to body positivity, however in its fundamental ideology body neutrality is intended to promote a more peaceful relationship between the mind and body that does not focus on negative nor positive conceptualizations of the body, especially in those ways that can consume and strain the mind (i.e., significantly focusing on the size, shape, or color of the body). The concept of body neutrality is designed to operate in contrast to societal expectations that systemically operate to burden individuals to fit into physical and emotional molds in order to be legible as human beings and gain access to various spaces both physically and socially. It is critical to note that societal standards of physicality and being often disproportionately impact minority communities, who often may be denied access to other mechanisms of legibility such as personhood and femininity.
As the concept of body neutrality manifests as an individual effort—where one must rewire their thoughts to accept themselves in their current existence—it is critical to consider to what extent this mindset is sustainable. For sustainability seems unlikely in a world where one’s internal perspectives are competing with the perspectives ascribed to them by other social actors and the implications of structures more broadly (i.e., the spaces their physical and emotional selves may be accepted in or denied access to). It appears to be the case that the body neutral mindset can only exist in the individual bubble, as venturing out of those individual boundaries forces one to be confronted with realities of dominant thought about the superiority of thinness, smallness, whiteness, etc. that will inevitably, even momentarily, impact the way one views themselves and others. It can be said, then, that genuine bodily neutrality is an in-achievable pursuit in our current world where subjects are “locked in” their bodies unable to transcend to a space of being that allows them to shed their physical and spatial identities. While this perspective is less than optimistic, it does offer a more pragmatic contextualization of how societal influence is imperative in creating an environment where humans are categorized and then held to physical and emotional standards that are historically long-lasting and seemingly intrinsic, which hinder individual and population-specific liberation.
Where Do Women Belong in Places Like the Work Field?
As a cis woman, I have personally worked in multiple jobs, primarily full of men. I gravitate towards more physical jobs, meaning I work with more men. Throughout my life, I’ve heard many phrases to try to put down a woman for expressing an opinion different from the male’s perspective. Some of the insults they use to try to shut up women are, “Go back to the kitchen where you belong.” or “Shut up and go make me a sandwich.” some men will even refer to women as objects like dishwashers. However, in the work industry, those two tasks of cooking and cleaning are dominated by men. While working in the kitchens over the years. I have had to work and train grown men twice my age. While instructing these grown men, I was constantly disrespected and was not listened to during instruction, which ended up causing safety problems. I was only treated with respect when the male manager noticed them actively ignoring and disrespecting me. He called them out and explained that I was well-trained in my job and that they needed to take me seriously since I played a role in whether they got to keep this job. During these experiences, I had men flat-out tell me that I don’t belong in the kitchen due to my gender and size, which is ironic because I’ve heard men tell me that I do belong in the kitchen. While working my shift, I had to listen to their opinions about my inability to get things done due to my body not fitting the standard for someone to work in the kitchen. I heard, “She is too weak to do this,” “She is too bubbly to work back here,” or “She is not going to make it long in the kitchen because she is too sensitive.” It made me feel like I needed to constantly prove to myself and my male coworkers that I was someone to be respected for my work ethic. I always worked the hardest, and my personality started to change to be more aggressive and louder for my male coworkers to listen to, but then I was labeled as a “bitch”. However, if I told my male coworker to do the same thing I did, he would be seen as “forward” and “direct.” It is just a simple example of how readings like Not Just the Reflexive Reflex and Throwing Like a Girl mention how we still have these situations where women are still faced with this issue that we are seen as somewhat less than compared to men because of the body women are born with and their potential capability to have children.
Docile Department Store Bodies
When I find myself in need (or want) of new clothes, I often find myself in thrift stores. Early in my transition, this was where I shopped. As soon as I could drive, I would make my way to the local Goodwill and buy a $4 oversized rugby shirt. It was low stakes, high reward. I did not have to drop $20 every time I was curious if I might like to wear something, especially since I was still figuring out my style and tended to wear something for a week before burying it in my closet.
Now in my life, I can comfortably buy brand new clothing from target, but I rarely do. Something about thrift stores is so inviting and comfortable, and on the contrary, something about department stores has such Bad Vibes. Foucault kind of helped me understand why.
Discipline is written all over department stores. Everything is in its place, to a meticulous extent – clothes folded or hanging from hangers in neat rows, sleek monochrome mannequins with ironed outfits, identical products stacked in rows of tens. The bodies of the employees have to work on their feet, constantly scanning to see if anything needs to be refolded or if they can smile for a customer or answer a question. The clothes themselves are even surveilling the customers, with tags that will sound an alarm if one step is taken outside of the store with them. I think the worst part for me in department stores is how much power I can feel being taken from me when I look at the options of clothes I can buy. The ultimate reduction of individuality is a stack of the same exact shirt in any size.
Alternatively, the relaxing, comforting feeling of walking into a thrift store is unmatched. There are so many ways thrift stores subvert discipline and control. Thrift stores defy the intended life cycle of a piece of clothing or product. Our society wants us to buy new, use, and buy new again, and by ignoring this rule, we can escape a kind of control. Further, thrift stores neglect little details – there is imprecision everywhere! Stains on clothing, clothing you can tell has been worn for a lifetime, clothing that has been out of style for at least 20 years, differently gendered and sized clothing all mixed up together. The maximization of time and money is not evident, either. Employees take their time checking out customers, sometimes impressively slow, and products are usually less than $5! Even considering all of these glories, my favorite thing about thrift stores is the community it takes to curate what is inside. Anyone can contribute to what a thrift store/consignment shop sells, effortlessly ignoring trends in society, providing a vast array of options, and encouraging people to listen to their own desires.
Pleasure and Correspondence
content warning: sex and masturbation
Oddly enough, I remember my first orgasm. And that’s simply because it wasn’t too long ago, about over a year to be exact. It’s aggravating how the shame I felt towards my body kept me from exploring it. The repressed Christian girl is no foreign stereotype to us, but we never seem to focus enough on the shame hoisted upon young girls that makes them conceal any and every part of their sexual nature. Why was “acting your own age” or “not looking too grown” a priority for my middle school self when I had just barely started to develop tweenage crushes on my classmates? The only people who were in touch with these notions I had no idea existed were the adults around me. My body as a child shouldn’t have been a battleground where I had to prioritize mannerisms over my black girl joy.
Looking back now, coming into my body has been a long and tiring journey. My family’s obsession with purity stems from the dominating Christian culture we came from. The ideals instilled into me as a young girl weren’t just the opinions of my aunt who raised me, but that of her mother and her mother’s mother. For generations, no, eras, we were told to protect young girls through forcing them to adhere to paltry rules about how we use the space we take up. But who am I to break the sanctity of these rules? They seemed to do enough for my female ancestors who succeeded in having families of their own.
Don’t think for a second, I didn’t rebel. I wore what I wanted, listened to punk rock music, and tried my best to escape my family’s expectations. I even came out as pansexual in middle school, which my family brushed off as a phase but was still mildly appalled by it, to say the least. Back then, I thought knowing my sexuality meant being comfortable within it. I was pretty far off.
The sin of masturbation was never discussed by my family, but the weight of it was still there. In my late teenage years I explored my body in the few hours I had the house to myself. All I remember was the constant rush of shame every time I attempted to get myself off. I could only ever think of the judging stare of God from above or that my ancestors or guardian angels were disgusted with me. Despite this shame, I never even reached a climax. Maybe it was what I deserved.
Eventually, I entered my first relationship and there went my virginity. Many people were actually surprised I stayed a virgin for so long as I always tried to make myself come off as the raunchy, sex-positive funny girl. Despite wanting to be known as a “sexpert” in my youth, I never took my chances to engage in any sexual acts until I was a legal adult. I convinced myself this was the safest option to avoid being grounded into oblivion. It wasn’t until I bought my first sex toy that I actually learned the extent of my own pleasure. Like a great number of people with vulvas, clitoral stimulation led to my first success.
It was a moment of cathartic relief like no other. Any feeling of my body being broken immediately left me. Is this what my shame kept me from my whole life? Feelings of purity and shame no longer mattered, because I had finally come into my individual pleasure. Shame only held me back, which is why I refuse to give into it any longer. Those moments of fear now correspond to a time long ago where I was afraid of my body.
pussy (n.) 1. Nice name for a cat
- Slang for women’s genitals
- Cowardly
Credit to Urban Dictionary for the lovely definitions.
Being born with a body that possesses a vagina has always been…well, there isn’t one word I’d use to describe it. It can be joyful at times, and a burden the next. It can hold me back from feeling immense happiness, and it can also make me feel on top of the world. I never thought I’d have complicated feelings about my vagina, but now as someone who is taking testosterone and seeing the effects it has on this important body part of mine: I can’t help but feel constantly conflicted. Don’t get me wrong, I am in no way saying I want phalloplasty. I, frankly, would prefer if no surgery had to happen within/outside/around my vagina. But I still can’t help but feel this weight of it pulling me back from fully being myself, and fully feeling happy.
Read more: pussy (n.) 1. Nice name for a catAnd why is that? I mean, the short answer is dysphoria. But OK, try a different path: even if I was cisgender, would I still feel conflicted in having a vagina? Could I join the cisgender women in arms and discuss how owning a vagina makes me the most badass, powerful woman on Earth? I mean, maybe. The reclamation of the vagina as an empowering symbol has its appeal to me currently: I’m a man with a vagina, suck on that Republicans! But still, that concept of my genitalia never meeting the “norm” for a cisgender man will always feel as though it’s holding me back. And yes, I know, the “norms” were created by folks who wanted a mass genocide of the Black, Brown, queer, disabled, and all things deemed “other” – so knowing this, why do I still feel the need to appease this massive dictator of a concept?
One answer could be: it’s just easier to submit to society. Another could be that I’m just starting to unlearn these things as the “norm”, so falling into “old habits of thinking” is prone to happen. And, perhaps, the third answer is just that it is also the “norm” for transgender men to feel dysphoria surrounding their genitals, to feel as though they are “lesser”. And maybe that’s the norm that I find myself stuck in: I have to be depressed about my vagina, because I’m trans and society says I have to feel sad about being trans. By actively going against this, and creating joy out of the otherwise dysphoric – it begins to open up a world of new possibilities. The thing that once felt as though it was holding me back, now holds significant power – just as it does for others.
Unruly Bodies 