body
Feminism demands a future free of fat shaming, body obsession and the male gaze.
Failure to Refuse
I want to share a story of my first sexual experience. It serves for me as catharsis. I also hope to give gentle cautionary advice. My goal is for people to find courage when they're afraid to speak. This tale begins long ago in my life and comes full circle in the current era.
By Texas Christie6 years ago in Viva
I'm A Survivor Of Unresolved Trauma And I'm Here To Share My Story With You
When I was a freshman in high school, all the girls in their ninth-grade gym classes were taught self-defense should they ever come in contact with a predator one day. I was informed that one in four girls are sexually abused or raped by the age of eighteen. Back then I knew deep down in my heart that one day I'd be that one put of four girls. I was right. I hate being right.
By Dez's Public Journal 6 years ago in Viva
Melbourne's jewels to demystify the female body
Her long hair just about reaches her thighs. Blonde all over except the roots, where her natural brown-black hair peeks through – in a way, mimicking the mixed blood that flows through her veins. After all, Mino was born to a German-Japanese mother and a Taiwanese-Indonesian father, a love story that started in Asia.
By Shareena Aziz6 years ago in Viva
What it was like back then:
For me, #me too began in a flower shop in about 1974. We didn't call it that back then, of course. In fact, we didn't talk about such things much at all. I started looking for work as a very shapely, older-looking 14 year old in a large urban area. I did so not because we were living in poverty. Quite the opposite: my dad owned a very successful business. But I was bright and independent. Perhaps too much so for my own good. School bored me to tears - I could maintain straight A's while going to every class high. And dad and I could not get along - at all. We would fight for hours - literally and very loudly - most days when he came home, and especially if he had been drinking, which was at least once a week. It brought my dear mother to tears and entertained my brothers and friends and neighbors as they sat outside under the windows. It wasn't that we didn't love each other. I was the eldest child and only daughter and the apple of dad's eye. I was just growing up too fast and he was trying to put the brakes on a runaway train. I needed to escape and there was only one honorable and allowable way to do so - get a job.
By Terry Lerma6 years ago in Viva
It takes time to heal
I remember my mom introducing him as her new boyfriend. He had just got out of prison living in a halfway house. He seemed different but I was only 6 what would I know. I just knew my mom was happy with him and being young and seeing her get beaten in the face with the end of a gun until her face was bloody by her ex, i just cared about her being happy.
By Michelle Bee6 years ago in Viva
104
When I was 16, I begged my mother to take me to the GYN because I was having painful menstrual cycles; after a few attempts to take care of them at home she made an appointment for me, she asked me "are you having sex?" flat out while we waited in the waiting area "No" and that was the truth; was someone raping me? yes.
By Lucinet Luna - The Author 6 years ago in Viva
Do You Need A Ride?
I slowed down as I pulled into my apartment complex, glad that the next day was Friday because the week had taken its toll on me. The engine in my aging Ford grinded ever so slightly and the front of the car shook a little when I pulled the key out of the ignition. It was a good old car and all I could really afford right now. Mustard yellow with a bit of rust, but it started every morning.
By Denise Willis6 years ago in Viva
