What Happens After The Me Too Story?

Life continues after the Me Too and it still isn’t pretty

or

One Day I’ll Be Over This

You say I’m brave. Braver than the guys I like, which isn’t saying much about my bravery.

This guy who I’ve been into HARD for the last couple of weeks says to me last night ” I can’t decide whether I like you or not.”

If you have to think about it, you don’t.

Go eat a carrot!

Life goes on. It’s beautiful. It sucks. I guess I could stop it, but I’m not that brave.

Ten minutes after the guy I REALLY like ends it with me, I’m back on Tinder. It’s my typical reaction after rejection to feel wanted. I used to feel guilt around this reaction, but now I don’t give a fuck. (Or I give a fuck… if you get my drift there.)

The Morning After… Some funny sex stuff.

Yes. I want to go a little crazy for once. But I won’t. Or will I?!?

Become a Go Eat A Carrot Patron on Patreon!

Follow me on all the Social Media

Instagram
Twitter
Facebook

Show support by purchasing something for me from my Amazon Wish List (I’ll review whatever gets sent my way!)

Need Toys? Here Are Links to My Top 3 Favorite Brands:

Tantus

We-Vibe

Lelo

Advertisements

This Is My Me Too Story

One of My Me Too Stories At least.

Because Sex and Rape are NOT the same thing.

I didn’t want to get so heavy with this website so soon after launching, but this story has stayed with me ever since it happened (way back in my undergrad days).

One of the ways for me to move on, to get back to empowerment, is letting it go. I do not want to hold on to it in anymore.

My biggest fear has always been disappointing my family, that’s why I’ve only ever told my closest friends. I also was scared that if I said anything that my dad would find the guy and murder him and then not just my life would be ruined anymore.

I used to hope my rapist would die a brutal death or at least an early death since he killed me when I was so young. Now, I just want him to recognize that what he did was wrong. I want our community and our education system and our family dynamics to recognize that how they brought us up, wasn’t always right. I want them to step up and teach children how to be better adults. The way we treat each other is so often so fucked up.

From now on when we say, “boys will be boys,” I hope that carries a different meaning. I hope it means that they will be respectful, thoughtful, courageous. I hope it means that they will do the right thing. I hope it means that they will learn how to communicate their hopes, desires, wants, and needs in an emotionally mature and honest way.

In grad school I recorded an album and wrote a paper for my graduate thesis (about music being an avenue for change), one of the interludes on the album was about rape. The lyrics went, “everyone woman has a rape story, every woman’s been raped.”

My thesis board, a group of three feminist women, said they didn’t understand the song. Not ALL women have been raped. I explained to them that it wasn’t a song, it was an interlude and that it meant if one of us is raped, we all are. We are all connected on this planet, everything impacts everything else. We should work to end each others’ suffering. We should work to rise above the violence.

Pleasure over pain.

Thank you for listening to my story.

I prefer to talk about other things and plan to do that now that this is finally over.