Gentlemen. This is what rape culture is like:
Imagine you have a Rolex watch. Nice fancy Rolex, you bought it because you like the way it looks and you wanted to treat yourself. And then you get beaten and mugged and your Rolex is stolen. So you go to the police. Only, instead of investigating the crime, the police want to know why you were wearing a Rolex instead of a regular watch. Have you ever given a Rolex to anyone else? Is it possible you wanted to be mugged? Why didn’t you wear long sleeves to cover up the Rolex if you didn’t want to be mugged?
And then after that, everywhere you go, there are constant jokes about stealing your Rolex. People you don’t even know whistle at your Rolex and make jokes about cutting your hand off to get it. The media doesn’t help either; it portrays people who wear Rolexes as flamboyant assholes who secretly just want someone to come along and take that Rolex off their hands. When damn, all you wanted was to wear a nice watch without getting harassed for it. When you complain that you are starting to feel unsafe, people laugh you off and say that you are too uptight. Never mind you got violently attacked for the crime of wearing a friggin time piece.
Imagining all that? It sucks, doesn’t it.
Now imagine you could never take the Rolex off.
I know I don’t have many followers, but if it isn’t too much to ask I would like for everyone to just take a second to read my story. The pictures above are a summary of my life the past two years. From my first date with Christian, to my first and only prom with him, to finding out I was pregnant and starting our family. As you can see the past two years have sort of been a roller coast ride for me, with plenty of ups and downs. But I can easily say they were the best two years of my life. There are a few dates I will never forget, starting with February 26th, 2012. That was the day me and christian officially started our relationship. The next date is July 11th, 2012. The day I found out I was approximately 7 weeks pregnant. January 12th, 2013, the day we moved into our little house. Then February 13th, 2013. The day my son, Noah Clark Carden came into the world. I’ll never forget June 8th, 2013, the day Christian was taken to jail (just a minor probation violation), and July 23rd, 2013, the day he was released. After that, the dates are all kind of just a blur and a flash of good memories. Until, October 30th, 2013. That is the night Christian died. I found him, he had committed suicide. I stayed by his side until the ambulance arrived, but he had no heart beat. I followed them to the hospital and as soon as they resuscitated him and he was stable they allowed me in his room. At first I sat by his side holding his hand, and I just cried. He was breathing on his own through a tube, and a machine was doing most of the work for his heart. Just when I lost all hope one of the nurses told me, “You know you can talk to him, right? Hearing is always the last thing to go in a situation like this”. So I did, I told him many things. Countless times I told him how much I loved him. How much me and Noah needed him. That if he would just fight for me, and come back, that God would give us another chance to do things right and to be a family. I just went on and on, and when I looked up, his eyes were half open and he was crying. Tears streaming down his face. That’s when I knew.. he wasn’t going to be able to come back to me, and he knew it too. But I stayed there, I stayed by his side until they called his death and removed the machines. And for an additional two hours I sat there with my head on his chest, and I played with his hair because that was his favorite thing. I stayed until the nurses said it was time to go, I looked at him, whispered I love you, kissed him on the forehead, and I walked out. Christian suffered from depression, but not a lot of people knew that because he never reached out to anyone. He had stopped his antidepressants, but he didn’t let anyone know. He truly felt that if he died nobody would miss him, that we were all better off without him.. well he was wrong. But he couldn’t help that he felt this way, he was sick. People don’t understand how severe a mental illness can be just because you cannot see it. So this post has two messages in it. ONE, if you are depressed and you feel like you have no purpose, like you are not loved, well you are WRONG. There are many people out there that will be affected and deeply hurt to lose you. Christian didn’t realize that until it was too late. And two, if you are having suicidal thoughts… reach out to someone.. anyone. You can even message me day or night, and I will talk if you want to talk, or listen if you want me to listen. Don’t keep things hidden, and don’t feel embarrassed, scared, or ashamed.. please. You are not unwanted, you are not any different, you are depressed, and there is a cure. I would give anything to go back and tell Christian all of this, why I waited until it was too late… I dont know. And I will never forgive myself. So don’t make that mistake. Life is too short to spread hate, to hold grudges, to cut ties. Instead forgive, spread love, and find happiness. Christian always told me how much he loved to make other people happy, and it was true. I can’t name all the favors that were left unreturned.. but he didn’t care. He did it for the joy of making someones day. He was such a people pleaser, if he couldn’t make somebody happy, he felt like he had failed. What he didn’t understand is that it wasn’t his responsibility to make others happy, but he took on the challenge anyways. When other people were hurting, Christian took in their pain as his own. Everyday took a toll on him, to the point where the pain was unbearable. But you would have never known if you met him. He would flash that smile and release every bit of happiness he had until he had none left. I know it seems cliche, but it is true. Reblog this to spread Suicide Awareness. If my story can help save just one life, well then I will feel accomplished. And if Christian knew he started something to inspire others, to bring someone to reach deep down inside and find their own inner happiness, and give them a reason to live, well then he would feel accomplished too. So please, help me do this for him. I may not have worded this exactly how I wanted to, or got everything out, but I think I did the best I could at this point.
today i wore a v-neck to school, something that is totally normal for 99% of the girls there, one of the girls in my french class was wearing one similar to mine in fact.
but my french teacher came up to me and told me that i was out of dress code and that i was asking for something to happen to me.
and all day long i had to slap guys who found it perfectly okay to grab them.
im a 32DDD, 5’1, and 115 pounds. due to this im known around the school as the walking boobs, the girl who grew in other places, and BITS. I constantly get called a whore and a tease.
Girls are always accusing their boyfriends of sleeping with me.
and there have been times when i have had to tell teachers that my eyes are up here.
i grew boobs in the eighth grade, i was a DD then, and i cant tell you how many fights i got into with guys who thought it was alright to stick their faces in them.
the point of all of this is that its bullshit.
i should be able to wear a v neck to school without worrying about who is going to grab my boobs next, or who is going to throw a gum wrapper in them, or what girls are going to say next.
Fuck that shit! I would report any teacher that needs to be reminded not to stare at your chest. That is not okay in any sense.
Also, I’d say screw slut-shaming, but this isn’t even a matter of dressing how one wants, but a matter of a woman’s natural state being the reason that men think it’s okay to sexual harass or assault her.
- Large breasts are not an invitation.
- Large breasts are not an invitation.
- LARGE BREASTS ARE NOT AN INVITATION.
Are we clear?
Reblog and Amplify.
As someone with big boobs myself, I have been made to feel awkward about them quite a lot through my life. And it’s not cool!
Large breasts are not an invitation!