Sunday, 19 April 2015

Random kindness of strangers

Friday night when we were out taking these very serious pictures...



I found a trashed school bag. All that was salvageable was a school book, two other books and a library card.
Of course I couldn't leave this girls stuff out there (also I couldn't leave books out there). And thankfully there was a library card so I could go my local library and have them look her up and contact her. I left the bag with the librarian and fingers crossed they will find her and she'll be able to come get it. 

I don't know if this was the work of thrives or bullies (I guess in this case they are the same thing) but you would be an idiot to think a little girl would have large amounts of cash or valuable thing in her school bag. Either way I felt bad for her. So I collected a little goodie bag for her.

Thursday, 16 April 2015

Why I need feminism #thisdoesntmeanyes

This is sort of an addition to the other post and a response to the tag I got today #thisdoesntmeanyes. You see I took the other post down because I got cold feet. I didn't want to get judged or pitied or have people change their opinion of me. I posted it to be a part of getting rid of the stigma but I'm sadly also very much affected by that. So I took it down. I've put it back up now with some edits I left out. But the story is still the same - with one major lie. Yes, I'm continously angry and now I am definitely more Katniss and Tris (violent and shouting) than Bella (jumping off cliffs) (you didn't think I'd go without a literary reference, did you?) and I often feel more like solving my problems with violence - though I never do - but I also know I'm afraid. I probably wouldn't be able to fight off an attacker. So when I stated I wish to have the chance I'm being very theoretic. Thought I should clear that up ;)

If I had been raped when I was 12 I would have lucky compared to if  I was now. Wtf? you're thinking but hear me out: A child is off limits. That's a rule. People would have seen it as no fault of mine. A woman on the other hand... When I run I practice talking to the police, the questions they'd ask. What was I wearing, did I initiate the contact, why was I out alone at night?

And in my head I retort: Would you ask your daughter that? I didn't know there was a curfew for women.

But in reality I very much doubt I'd be so snappy. So instead I run faster, change sidewalks when groups of men approach, turn the music up louder when I pass so I don't hear what they shout. And this is how it is. This is normal. And that is why I fucking need feminism.



#thisdoesntmeanyes #thisdoesntevenmeanhavealook #ImonlysexywhenIsayitsokay

xoxo,

Kathrine


Saturday, 4 April 2015

The girl


When I was 12 I was molested. He was 13. It would have been worse if any of us knew what he was doing. I wiggled my way out. He left. I never told anyone.
We'd tried to become popular, my best friend and me. We invited people to a party at my farm. Nobody showed up. But one day Martin did now he had my adress. Alone. My friend was there but she left the room. Better me than her I guess. She was right. She wasn't very strong - if she was she would have stayed. And then he tried to rape me. Had he known what he was doing I would have been toast. He was big. I was not. But he didn't and he left. In school I survived his and others abuse for years - although never again like this. Just beatings and humiliations.
I met my stepfather. I survived that too. 


I tried to kill myself but I couldn't. Then I just hurt myself to make up for it. I was nearly hospitalized because my mother didn't know how to keep me away from the knives.

Since I was 12 I've waited to be attacked. And not like most hoping never to be. But hoping it would happen to me. Never initiated or even provoked. But hoped. To have the chance to defend myself. Teeth and nails. Even if I failed to save myself at least I'd be as bruised and ruined on the outside as I felt on the inside. Maybe someone would notice. 
I had so much rage inside me. It would leave me either a victim or a survivor and that would define me. And I would be free from the tension. Now I'm neither. The absolution never came. I'm just a girl with so much anger inside and no one knows.