Whos been going through my camera!?

I completely forgot about this!

Ummmmm.... who's been going through my camera?!

Word.

Dear Men:

This letter is in response to the last 20-something years of my life, in which you have placed an unwarranted burden of fear and weight upon my shoulders.

I am officially tired. I am tired of the responsibility of what you call a "healthy fear" you have forced me to accept against my will.

I understand that my constant fear is slightly excessive, however, we need to talk. (To Read About My Constant Fear: Please Click Here)

It is unfair that every time I walk to my car I am terrified at the thought of what is waiting for me in the parking garage.

It is exhausting trying to think ahead of every scenario your brothers, fathers, sons and uncles could come up with in executing their ultimate plan of attack against me.

It is frustrating getting dressed in the morning and having to wear something that I believe won't "ask for it" as you men have advised me to do to better insure my safety.

It is unhealthy that I cannot get a full nights rest for fear that one of your brothers, fathers, sons or uncles will break into my home while I sleep.

When did it become my responsibility to be safe? When did the responsibility shift from the wrongdoer to the victim? When did we as women accept this responsibility? I definitely didn't sign up for this.

But most importantly, when does the responsibility of keeping me safe become yours? Isn't that taught in "Man Class 101: How to keep your women safe"?

I think that class should be audited because I believe your professor may have lied to you. 

I would like to set the record straight: No matter what I do, if  your brothers, fathers, sons and uncles decide one day that they are going to attack me, they will succeed, regardless of where I am, what I am wearing and what I look like.  

Rape has no preference. You can be tall, short, skinny, fat, clothed, unclothed, blonde, red, green, brown, loud, shy, submissive, young, old, etc. Rape has no preference. 

When are you going to hold your brothers, fathers, sons and uncles accountable instead of placing this unrealistic burden on me?

When does the responsibility become yours?

There is only so much my sister and I could do to stop living in fear; At some point we need the help of our brothers. Don't you believe that you are a better match for your own brother, father, son and uncle than I anyways?

As much as I appreciate their annoying cat calls as I frantically walk from my car to my school, when are you going to humanize me to your brothers, fathers, sons and uncles when they describe me as an object?

Although I understand it is a lot easier to put down, hurt, degrade, demean and hit an object, I am tired of having to differentiate myself from the object that you ultimately helped them create, despite the fact that, as you say, "it is all in good fun".

The fear that has been instilled in me is not fun.

To better illustrate how placing the burden of being safe on me is unfair, exhausting, frustrating and unhealthy, please see the following Rape analogy,, which I borrowed from the fabulous writer, Ms. Rebel Debutante:

"Exhibit A"

 Word.

Some of My Favorite Things: Grandma's Boy

Some Food For Thought

Our Daughters

"We need to teach our daughters to distinguish between a man who flatters her and a man who compliments her. A man who spends money on her and a man who invests in her. A man who views her as property and a man who views her properly. A man who lusts after her and a man who loves her. A man who believes he is God's gift to women and a man who remembers a woman was God's gift to man."

T.G.I.F. ?

You would think that Friday's are a happy day because the long work week is over, school is finished until Monday and the weekend has arrived so that I may relax. 

FALSE. I am tired, exhausted and my dad just told me my headache is probably from using my small brain too often.

Happy Friday.

Everything Has A Home

Growing up, my sister and I used to play the game "maid". 

The goal of the game was to get the house as clean as possible before my parents would come home from work. 

The "game" included vacuuming my sister's bedroom floor, dusting my sister's room, doing the dishes left in my sister's room, cleaning my sister's bathroom, making my sister's bed, picking up my sister's clothes off of my sister's floor and color cordinating my sister's closet.

If I did a really good job, my sister would sometimes allow me to watch her play with her "Shera Dolls", which I was strictly forbidden to touch. 

"Exhibit A"

I soon discovered that this "game" of maid was in fact my sister using her "older sister" ability to make her younger, very innocent sister complete her assigned daily chores. 

Even though I discovered my sister's true intent after watching my parents solely pay her for our "game", I continued to play "maid" with her because I could see that she genuinely enjoyed it.

My sister's obsession to keep a tidy house is still very much in effect today. 

When I visit her, my sister constantly reminds me  that "everything has a home", meaning that everything in her house has a place where it should be put away.

A couple of weeks ago, my brother-in-law's brother, his best-friend and wife and I visited my sister and brother-in-law in North Carolina.

To my sister's horror, after cleaning the entire house after we all left and our vacation was over, Mr. Sock was left behind and, of course, did not have a home:

"Exhibit B"

 

My sister frantically text me and asked if Mr. Sock belonged to me. I advised her that Mr. Sock did not. I could feel the confusion in her texts and felt badly for what was to come.

A couple of days later, I received another frantic text advising me that she had no other option but to wash Mr. Sock but was still concerned as to where Mr. Sock was going to go after he was clean.

"Exhibit C"

Apparently, once Mr. Sock was cleaned, my sister folded the laudary and soon forgot that Mr. Sock was homeless. She then went to sleep for the night.

However, when my sister awoke the very next morning, Mr. Sock had found his way next to her night stand.

"Exhibit D"

Being distraught, my sister decided it was time to take a shower to calm her nerves and clear her head.

When she finished her shower she went back to her connecting bedroom only to find that Mr. Sock had officially crossed the line:

"Exhibit E"

Yes... my sister is in her 30's and yes she has a teddy bear named Fossil that she insists sleeps with her and her husband.

If it wasn't bad enough, Mr. Sock didn't stop there. He forced Fossil to embrace him with love.

"Exhibit F"

Mr. Sock then made Fossil spoon him. 

"Exhibit G"

 Mr. Sock then found his way to his new home... Fossil's foot, which is where he resides today. 

"Exhibit H"

My sister is doing better. I have not received a text message regarding any of the foregoing since Mr. Sock officially found a home. I believe she is able to be at peace now.