Few things piss me off more than the fact that we still live in a world where the fact that I’m a girl in my twenties without a serious boyfriend is a shocking fact. I wrote to an old (high school) teacher telling her about my grad school plans and that I got a wonderful research internship to go along with it next year and that I’m really excited about all of it because I finally feel like I’m headed in the right direction. And what did she reply? “Are there any boys in your life?”
Does it matter? I mean is that still more important than my education and my career?
I don’t actively date because I prefer to spend my free time studying and reading and advancing my intellectual capacities and thereby investing in my future hopefully as an academic. I hate partying and I hate nightclubs and I hate the whole student party lifestyle, and more importantly, I’m perfectly happy being single. I’m extremely introverted and selective, and I’m at my best when I’m single. I’m more focused on my studies and my self esteem is at its highest. So I don’t run around forcing myself to adhere to a lifestyle I dislike in order to act desperate and throw myself at guys. What’s more, I refuse to settle for someone who fails to meet my standards and waste valuable time in doing so. If someone exceptional comes around, then sure, I will gladly date him, but until then, I’m perfectly HAPPY being myself.
But no, that’s not freaking acceptable in this day and age.
“have you considered that maybe i am not pleasant?
maybe i wear lipstick so that
you will see my pretty pink mouth
wrapping around a coffee cup lid
and be distracted enough not to notice
that i am intelligent and powerful;
maybe i draw my brows into high arches
so you will look at my unimpressed skepticism
and overlook my spiteful glare
as a trick of my silly, girlish routine.
maybe i wear my heels so high and thin
so that i grasp your attention with the sway of my hips
as i listen to the click-clack-click against the floor
and know that if you should try to overpower me
i walk on sharpened knives.
maybe when i laugh at your worthless jokes
i am really baring my fangs
waiting patiently for the day
that i sink them into your neck.
i am not made of porcelain pleasantries;
you will find that these things are my armor
to keep you at a distance
so you do not step on me and shatter
my fragile control.
i am not a husk — i am not wilting.
i am turning my head
so that the fire blazing through my eyes
does not catch on the accelerant of your sweaty palms
and burn your bones to dust.
i am not your pretty girl;
i am a fury, a faerie, a phoenix —
a forest of werewolves and wendigos
that will carve out your chest
so that the next time i paint my pretty pink lips
i will taste the copper tang of your dying breaths.”—R.K., I Am The Wolf Only Barely Contained (via thenemeton)
“We need women who are so strong they can be gentle, so educated they can be humble, so fierce they can be compassionate, so passionate they can be rational, and so disciplined they can be free.”—Kavita Ramdas (via redheadnonsense)