Of masculinity & abusive breeding grounds.

masculinity

I’m posting over on Plymouth Brethren Dropout today. Follow me over there for an examination of how enforcing strict gender roles creates a hostile environment where abusers feel safe.

Masculinity has a very narrow definition within the Plymouth Brethren, and can only be expressed in dominance. The dominance given to men, according to the assemblies, is over the entire earth, over gatherings of local believers (especially women), over their wives, and over their children. In short, men are considered the representation of God’s authority on earth, and thus often cannot be spoken against.

Read more.

189/365 Memories (+1 from martinak15 on Flickr

I am nostalgic.

I came across this poem that I wrote five months ago — I honestly completely forgot I had written it. Every word of it rings true to me tonight. It’s hard. But I’m sharing it, sending it into the void. I’m not sure why.

Content note: talk of serious depression and disordered eating.


I am nostalgic for a time
when people would say
“this place wouldn’t be the same
without you”
when I could have intense conversations
with everyone I knew
and people didn’t abandon me
because of my beliefs.
I am nostalgic for belonging.

I am nostalgic for a time
when my depression was coded
“depth of character”
and not weakness of will
when my anxiety was a secret
and I could push through it all
for months on end.
I am nostalgic for appearances.

I am nostalgic for a time
when people swooned for my curls
and complimented my curves
but only when I lost weight
when my clothes hung on my body
and my smile wore thin
and I only ate every other day.
I am nostalgic for “beauty.”

I have romanticized
every forced smile
every skipped meal
every submission to the will of other people
every detachment from
every emotion
for most of my life.
I have demonized the realities
by calling them “breakdowns”
by calling them “flukes”
by apologizing for taking up
space and time
and making anyone notice
that I was actually in pain.

I am nostalgic for belonging
no matter the cost.

I don't want to be

Love is hard work.

I don't want to be

From vavva_92 on Flickr. Click image for original.

Content note: talk of self-harm, sexual assault, suicide.


I used to be a songwriter. Or at the least, a writer of poems. Then I basically stopped for a long, long time. For some reason, though, lately I’ve been turning back to poetry to express some of my thoughts. So I share this with you all (though it was originally meant only for me, then put on Tumblr, but I think maybe I should share more personal things on here that might not be so polished). Continue reading

Learning the words: even the ugly ones.

I’m writing over at Defeating the Dragons today, contributing to her “learning the words” series. Hope you enjoy!

This post is inspired by Grace BiskieBethany SuckrowAddie Zierman, and of course Samantha (who, when first starting this series and asking for guest writers, responded enthusiastically and favorably to my tentative proposal of this particular topic).

The past few years, I have been on an intentional journey into freedom from the panic, rage, and fear that has been the constant undercurrent of my young life. A big part of that journey has included the freedom to look at the horrible things in life and to say with confidence and conviction, “Fuck. This. Shit.”

Read more at Defeating the Dragons…