But now I'm an adult. Ignore the fact that I still have a ton of stuffed animals and that I watch My Little Pony and color with crayons and read kids' books.
I'm an adult. I'm a woman. I'm an asexual. I'm biromantic. I'm a feminist. I'm a student. I'm trailer park trash. I'm white. I'm a victim of sexual assault and rape. I'm a survivor of sexual assault and rape. I'm a survivor of suicide. I'm mentally ill. I'm chronically and majorly depressed. I'm socially anxious. I'm a recovering cutter. I'm a student. I'm a researcher. I'm a dancer. I'm a choreographer. I'm a musician. I'm a crazy cat lady. I'm poor. I'm a human.
I have struggled with so many things, and for the most part struggled alone. I spit out things on this blog but rarely talk about to anyone, and when I do it's probably because I'm drunk (sorry if you've been on the other side of those conversations...).
But I will not be silent. For the sake of myself and others, I will not let issues be swept under the rug. My voice, and the voices of others, will not be silenced.
So yes, at this point, I am an angry feminist.
I am angry and upset and scared and sad.
There are so many things I want to talk about. I want to answer all of the questions and comments that have been directed at me personally as well as others.
These things need to be talked about, and not in a one-way conversation.
Let's all just sit down with some coffee or a nice cup of tea and chat about these things that are incredibly important.
Except I might have a panic attack, so my cats will have to be there too to comfort me.
--Dexter
P.S. In the spirit of conversation, ask me anything and I will do my best.
