Stop fearing the ‘M’ word

I’m all for woman’s rights and freedom but I draw the line when equality gets thrown out the window.

“What if there were no men in the world – it would be a happy place”, said almost every girl at some point in her life. Not true sadly. As annoyed as I do get at times, I know it’d be ridiculous to cross out an entire gender; kind of like how it’s ridiculous to only concentrate on one gender.

Companies across the globe have adopted the practice of feminizing everything out of fear. Take What’s app emoticons for example: I’m pretty sure a lot of guys do the “💁🏻” in real life as much as I do. But that’s a sassy woman, not a sassy man and it doesn’t seem very fair. If that was a male emoticon, some people would throw a fit. To avoid drama(because there is nothing else to call it), companies throw long hair onto emoticons and either ‘r’ or ‘s’ to every ‘he’ they come across. They make smartish avatars female and anything weak male. Men don’t fight back and I think that’s why we have some resemblance of peace.

Everything boils down to the acceptance that a woman can do whatever a man can do. So if I can ride, jump, learn, fight, drink, punch, work, lift, like a man, why do we pretend I don’t fall, break, get lost, be wrong, be weak, hurt, get rejected, get insulted, be disappointed, be a disappointment, like a human being? It’s okay to say women struggle, just as it is okay to give men some of the good roles too.

Male or female, we co-exist, we can’t have one without the other. Thank you for my rights and trying to make me feel encouraged but I don’t want to function in a society where everything is female; my feminity is secure even without it.


Emotional rape

I am a rape victim- not the sexual kind that involves bodily destruction but the emotional kind that kind of the same–just mentally. So picture being tied up, not with material but by people who rob you of the ability to get out of a situation you don’t want to be in; you are forced to experience things that aren’t your choice and really not meant for you. People say you deserve it. There are those who empathize with you but would never save you, some feel sad for you, some just listen to it like another story. People tell you that things could’ve been worse so you should be grateful. Your voice counts for nothing during rape, sometimes screaming excites the ones who harm you.. something about loving the power from it. After everything telling others doesn’t matter because you’re not sure it makes a difference; you’re forced to shut up about it cause you’re too vulnerable to deal with the judgement, pity, self hate, self blame and insecurity. They’ll say there are so many things you could’ve done better.

Open your eyes, when you’re in that situation you can’t really think straight; forgive us for screwing up in our times of panic(sarcasm indeed). You slip away; you trust less; you break; you lose your reason to continue; to exist means nothing; you are robbed, and for us -the emotionally raped, we’re robbed of our ability to express ourselves Judged for being the way we are, we finally break and let people in on our ‘whys’ and ‘hows’; we don’t open up easily; some wounds never heal. Based on this I call myself a rape victim, not a survivor.

A survivor has, well, survived. I’m still going through it- getting raped by multiple people; held into a place against my will, taken advantage of, no escape no matter how hard I fight, my mouth is bound, robbed, hurt, with no regard for my feelings and most of all its somehow all my fault!

The worse part? Getting punished for things that others have forced onto you. There was a point when I thought to myself there can’t be anything worse than this, I was wrong. It’s not enough to be blamed but to apologize to make the rapist’s lives easier, all the while knowing that I will never have that protection from the same people, is by far worse. They say they’re teaching me to swim by throwing me into a pool full of sharks. I can’t swim. I float and get bit. Nor do I want to learn.

A child robbed with not a soul to say stop. Emotional rape in my opinion is worse than the actual rape. There, there’s a reason for being taken advantage of- lust and stupidity. Here, you’re a scapegoat, just another obstacle or a doormat. Physical rape at least acknowledges that you are human even if they use you as just another body. Here, you are but a means to have power over. There, they know that they will damage you, but here you’re not even a body capable of getting hurt. Who cares for a doormat’s feelings anyway?

I do not justify that any rape is okay. I’m just sending this out as awareness that there are others like me, worse than me. You might not be able to do anything but that’s not what we’re asking for, not like we expect it anyway. What we want is for you, to never even remotely try to ever control or scapegoat someone.

But one day I promise all of you, I will become a survivor. One day I’ll feel the sunshine & rain on my skin without the fear of someone realizing that I’m getting too much of normal and drag me back in to punish me again. Until then I’ll slightly wash my wounds away in the rain.


Numb, it that even a feeling? How can one say I’m feeling numb when numb refers to a lack of feeling? I don’t understand it. I’m at a crossroad right now but this isn’t your ordinary crossroad. I don’t know where each path leads me; nor can I even see the paths. Kind of like I’m blind and I’m just walking in whatever ways feels right. That got me thus far but now I really am stuck.

Do you ever feel void but don’t know why? I thought that phenomenon was made up until now. I don’t know which path to choose because I don’t know where I want to go. I feel like a parasite, talking up oxygen and space but not really worth anything. All I can do right now is shut down.

What happens if I don’t walk anymore? Will it feel like limbo or will something completely new happen? Am I even ready to try it? Will I ever be? I don’t see the point of anything. I wish I could actually be in that state of limbo, never giving a crap, just quiet to myself and not do anything. But unfortunately for me, I don’t have that luxury. I can’t sit around and wait for time to pass me by. I have to work hard, I always do. It kind of sucks. Okay, not kind of, it just really sucks. I want a vacation, an escape. I need it, crave it but I can’t. God how I wish I could though. I see people or rather hear people crushing my mood, my non-responsive nature–well, at least I’m numb.

Yes, what do you do?

What do you do when every time you put your trust in something, it breaks? We’ve all been there.

I want you to imagine with me.. Imagine a person for whom having an open conversation is considered a privilege. A kind person who thinks differently; with absolutely no judgement but a strong will to be nice to everyone, even the people who hurt you. How long can one be subjected to the sneers and being ignored until the person shuts down and barely talks to people? Exactly, not long.

So this person lives in such a way that nothing more than what is required is spoken. This person has tried though, to be normal, to mingle until the person is unwanted again. The person tries again and again and again, the feeling of craving conversation never leaving until finally the person shuts down and despises conversation. Then one day, another person comes along, call the person ‘A’. ‘A’ fills the person’s life with hope that the person finally has someone who would listen.. until ‘A’ stops listening; maybe intensionally, maybe accidentally  but inevitably starting the process all over again.

It happens to everyone, sure. But what about the people who don’t have the option to speak to anyone else but one person; how the end of one person’s conversation means the end of all conversation; how a simple ‘shut up I’m not talking to you’ is the worst feeling ever because now the person has no one.

Imagine one last thing with me, imagine the most important thing to you and being shut down from expressing it. It’s soul crushing. It can damage everything a person has built up, especially if this happens at an ultimate low at one’s life; especially if all you needed to do was talk. Talking – who knew what an addictive thing that can be? So what does the person do now? The only thing the person knows to do –

                                                                                                                                         (absolutely nothing)

A funeral?

You can’t miss something you never yet had. But I think it’s ok to mourn over something you’ll never have. It’s a little hard to watch everyone around you enjoy it. I was robbed of something, something I can’t mention but only wish for. Let’s just say that it’s the same as meeting with an accident and losing something forever.. only it wasn’t an accident and wasn’t my fault. I should be glad that I’m so strong that it didn’t affect me as much as it should have but I would prefer to at least feel something towards it. Too bad I’m on some emotional freeze. So I’m having a funeral for the girl I’ll never be. “I did not know her but she definitely could’ve been somebody,” Maybe I’ll mourn and finally have an outlet for this unknown misery or maybe my stupid strong-self will never let me, who cries at a stranger’s funerals anyway?

Goodbye hope

So your holding onto a tiny bit of hope. A hope that someday you’ll get that thing you always wanted; your happy ever after. Now this ‘hope’ is all you have left. It’s what drives you, it’s who you are and it’s the only thing that you have; THE ONLY THING! So all is well in your world because your waiting for it and living for it but suddenly you realize that your never going to get it. All this hope has been for nothing. The tiny thread that your holding onto has snapped. So what am I going to do now? I’m going to fall. I’m going to fall so hard until I hit the ground. Because there is nothing left. Even if I crawl out of the tunnel I’m crawling in, it doesn’t matter. Because the end of the tunnel leads to a desert. How do you live in a desert? It’s just one degree of hell to another. Goodbye hope. I wish we never meet again cause all you do is hurt me.

Killing me softly

Here I am again, back in my comfort zone. Right now it seems almost foreign to me. But I know I’ll get back into the swing of it. Writing is what keeps me going. I guess that’s why god gave me this talente, to use it as an escape. That’s what this is now- an escape

I don’t know how I exist. I feel like fast forwarding to a point in my life where there’s clarity. I want clarity. It’s funny how people don’t notice how things affect you or worse yet they know how it affects me but still let it happen because it’s easier for them. I’m in a state where there is no option- I’m in exist mood. Take whatever shit is being thrown at you and face it because no one gives a fuck if it breaks you.

I often wonder how much more of a person can be broken. Mentally I’m unstable as I can switch from carefree to depressed in seconds but not vice versa. Sexually I am broken; no I’m not ready to detail that. Emotionally I’m conflicted between being a nice girl which is the reason I’ve survived or break out which is what I want to do but I know the guilt will kill me. In my so called love life I’ve had love thrown at me but I can’t hold onto it- not my feelings nor the relationship. Self esteem = zero when your made to shut up and put up yet there are tiny sparks of it left; I know that won’t be there long, I’m already on the verge of losing it. I’m poor so I can’t do stuff to take my mind of things. Spend time with friends you say? Oh wait I have no freedom. Top that off with insecurity and you’re looking at me.

What’s frustrating is that the answers to all my problems are right there and I can’t reach out to it. I feel mocked. Example, I’m insecure about my looks but if I fix myself up a little I’ll be fine right? Well I can’t. I can’t afford to gym, I have to freedom to run around the streets early in the morning and my room is too small to work out in it.

I have no voice and its breaking me. I want to speak, want to break free and it’s killing me. For years I’ve lived independent; I started taking care of myself long before I could spell independent and I loved it. Now it’s taking away from me, gradually yet forcefully and now I’m a shell of a human being. I don’t want to be a shell anymore. I want to live. I want to breathe. I want to run in the wind without worrying about “ruining anyone’s life”. When I try to oppose doing things someone else’s way I’m asked, “What’s so wrong in it? It’s not going to hurt you; it’s not going to break your bones.” But this is worse. Its breaking me inside out and I want to just live. Why won’t people let me live? I study, I’m nice and I’m freaking 19! Kids my age never listen to anyone. But here I am- listening to everyone, even though its breaking me, even though its killing me softly.


Before, the first thing I did when I woke up, was to remember my daily plans. Even if it’s just go to work or church or complete a mission in a game. But I’ve see how insignificant it all is. It’s disturbing at times; when you realize that you can live without almost anything, even the people who meant everything to you. I have started to do just that, my new morning ritual is to decide if I want to get up or sleep in and then there’s nothing else to do. If there’s somewhere to go, I just go. I don’t prepare, I don’t think, I just do it out of some obligation to pretend to be ok. All that’s left of me is this, writing to you, who ever is reading, even though I know that almost no one reads this. I write to express myself, to tell my story no matter how insignificant it is, no matter how its read or judged.

I try to find novels about girls like me, broken girls looking for something that they can never have but I can never find it. I can have love if I want, I’m a girl, a vixen who can consume her victims but I don’t because I can’t sustain a relationship with even the most perfect guy, no matter how hard I try. I finally understand it after breaking a few hearts. This is me. This is what I am. I can’t have love. No, I don’t accept it but I’m done pretending. I’m done acting as if everything is going to change. I’ve loved completely, to a point of laying down everything but it never lasts. They make mistakes but that’s not important because I’m just not emotionally stable for anything. If your still reading this you must be thinking I’m a whinny girl who hasn’t seen the world yet and all its fulness but I have. I was fortunate enough to see many people, many emotions. I grew up to fast. So now I’m sitting here typing, the only thing I have left. Let’s hope writing can someday make me feel whole again; if anything can, it’s that.

Inability to fit

Today I went out with my friends and what a joyous occasion it was or must have been –  I don’t know, I never felt a thing. As I watched someone close to me laugh with all her might, I couldn’t help but take out my camera to grab the moment because it looked so beautiful, so carefree, so mesmerising. Not that I’m attracted her in any way but I am drawn towards how beautiful laughing at something so pointless could be. Through out the meal, I tried very hard to laugh like they did but it’s so easy to slip unnoticed in a group of ten and that is exactly what I did. And Everytime I tried to capture this thing called carefree laughing, it stopped before I could capture it or there would’ve been to much laughing that there is no still. I think now and remember my own laughter. I’m sure somewhere along the way I may have felt the same thing but since I’m only human I’m automatically negatively looking at only the times I’ve forced myself to laugh to either fit in or to be polite. It’s funny how something as silly as laughing can remind you of how different you are. In the face of adversity, I recline to being distant so that I don’t have to explain to every tom, dick and Harry as to why I’m sad or upset. There are too many toms, dicks and harrys. I love the people who love me to no boundaries but how can you live like the perpetual rain on everyone’s sunny day? I don’t want that. But I have no choice. So here I am with my fake laugh, being polite; watching your beautiful laughter (who ever you are). No I don’t envy you, I’m not that petty but I am at peace with the fact that I just can’t fit in

Taking nothing in the mist of everything

Do you ever slip into oblivion and let life wash over you? I have. I am. Today I’ve cut, I’ve broken down, I’ve slipped into my worst state of depression yet and there’s nothing else I can do. This is reality. No matter how I fight for something that’s rightfully mine, it just will never be in my grasp or I’ll be to old to enjoy it when I get it. I’ve been robbed of everything that’s mine and I can think of a hundred different ways to say it ; yet I can’t accept it. What can I do now but watch life unfold before me – these choices aren’t mine. I sit here and look at everything as if it’s a movie and not real life. I’m almost tempted to let go of it all and maybe find peace. But I can’t because I have obligations. So I hurt myself ; maybe punishment is in order for being myself ; maybe I just want to do something even if that something is wrong – it’s still something. But it doesn’t matter ; nothing does. There is nothing that can fill the void I once called myself. So I’m letting it go ; letting it all happen. But I’m not holding onto anything. As if I’m on a beach where I can’t stop the water from reaching me nor can I hold onto the water. I’m taking nothing in the face of everything!