That's not exactly a feminist victory.
Yeah. There's a whole disabled sexuality thing that confuses this issue a whole lot for wheelchair/walking aid users (and presumably many other people with disabilities too).
We're in love. We're ... lovers. We're lesbian, gay-type lovers.
Willow ,'Potential'
Spike's Bitches 44: It's about the rules having changed.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Seska (the Watcher-in-Training) - Oct 17, 2009 10:26:12 am PDT #26804 of 30000
"We're all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"
sj - Oct 17, 2009 10:27:46 am PDT #26805 of 30000
"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."
I've found it really shocking when I have seen cat calling, etc.because, much like Erika, it never happens to me. However, I'm usually extra paranoid if I am out past dark alone because I know I can't run fast if the situation calls for it.
Hil R. - Oct 17, 2009 10:46:05 am PDT #26806 of 30000
Sometimes I think I might just move up to Vermont, open a bookstore or a vegan restaurant. Adam Schlesinger, z''l
New disabled feminist blog: [link]
Connie Neil - Oct 17, 2009 11:02:11 am PDT #26807 of 30000
brillig
One reason I let myself get as fat as I am is to stop the remarks. My tits developed fairly exuberantly, and the random remarks didn't stop till I was a size where they weren't as noticeable. I don't get strangers saying anything to me about the fat, perhaps because I'm standing straight up and moving with a purpose that suggests being fat will not stop me from dealing appropriately with them.
About ten years ago now, I went on a business trip to Philadelphia, and twice I took the train up to New York for the day. I got back very late and had to walk back from the station to my lodgings through the empty streets of Central City Philly. I never felt threatened, but I never saw anyone who wasn't about their business, either.
P.M. Marc - Oct 17, 2009 11:07:45 am PDT #26808 of 30000
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear
I used to get catcalls and propositions a lot. It eased up after 30. But it was often miserable before.
The worst wasn't random strangers, though. The worst was the men I barely knew and had classes with, because somehow, knowing my name upped their fucking sense of entitlement.
Signed, had one class she always left early so she could hide in the restroom to avoid her stalker.
Connie Neil - Oct 17, 2009 11:12:25 am PDT #26809 of 30000
brillig
I had a stalker for a while. I didn't know him, and I think he just picked up on me because he saw me walking to work. He'd trail me in his car. Stalkers shouldn't drive distinctive cars. I ignored him until the day he followed me into my work building, then I told Hubby. He disappeared after that, and I was afraid Hubby had done something that could get him in trouble, then a while ago he told me he'd immediately gone to the police, who said, "Well, that's something that will endanger his parole, thanks for telling us."
Joy.
Seska (the Watcher-in-Training) - Oct 17, 2009 11:24:25 am PDT #26810 of 30000
"We're all stories, in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"
New disabled feminist blog
Interesting link - thanks, Hil.
Shir - Oct 17, 2009 11:58:53 am PDT #26811 of 30000
"And that's why God Almighty gave us fire insurance and the public defender".
The one I get all the time, which I really hate, is if I'm walking somewhere while thinking about a problem I'm working on or something, some guy will inevitably come up to me and tell me to smile.
Hil is me. Only I get the "why won't you smile, sugar?" version. Sad thing is that my instinct is to smile to most Strangers I Want Away From Me, because usually I know that will usually get them away from me faster.
But to this? I want to pull up any grain of attitude I have and go "what the fuck do you think I owe you? Stop harassing me!".
ION, made final changes on my schedule. Dumped China, got Islam, Dumped Israeli Demographics to Society, State and Well Being (which is given in English, and I want to experiment with a class that's given in English.) I'm at my Great Aunt's, and I really need to go to bed now. But my mind is full of thoughts, expectations, fears. Well, I guess they could wait until tomorrow.
Barb, lots of house and calm~ma. Ginger, I'm sorry it went bad; better luck next time!
omnis, baby, why are they working you so hard? Tell them I said you need to eat, too!
DavidS - Oct 17, 2009 12:07:03 pm PDT #26812 of 30000
"Look, son, if it's good enough for Shirley Bassey, it's good enough for you."
San Francisco's Brava theater has the annual Sins Invalid show about sexuality and disability.
askye - Oct 17, 2009 12:34:42 pm PDT #26813 of 30000
Thrive to spite them
I don't remember cat calls but I remember when I was, maybe 10, I was barked at by a bunch of older boys. BARKED AT. It was a Saturday and my brother was playing in a soccer game so I was there at the park killing time.
And in middle school, well that was pretty much hell for me. There was an older boy, my tormenter whose name I will never forget. I had a big zit on my chin, the kind that is more cystic. He decided it looked like I had an std, syphilis. And so he called me Syph. All the time. around that same time I was walking down the road I lived on (it was rural about 1/2 mile long) and I wasn't close to home and some of my male classmates were riding around on an ATV and so the followed me. And yelled things at me. And finally one grabbed a stick and they came up behind me and as they drove by kinda shoved the stick, I think maybe they were trying for between my legs, but they jammed it in my rear. I've never told anyone that. And there was nothing I could do. They finally got bored and left me alone. But for a while I wasn't sure they would