I’m not feeling that well, so I deferred to my friend’s judgement, asking him if he thought it was okay to tell someone I hope you burn. That’s not something I have ever really said or thought before, but after reading jetpack-johnny’s comment about my rapes, I almost threw-up.
I have not been on tumblr today since I posted this tweet early today. As usual, my queue kept up for me while I was away, and of course, the asks kept coming in as well.
- The asks that told me how wrong I am about that tweet
- The asks that tell me I’m a pathetic western feminist who doesn’t know anything about rape or rape culture… Even though I’ve been raped on multiple occasions… right
- The asks that tell me how I’m promoting everything that is embarrassing about feminism by reblogging a photo of a “white tears” mug. You guys know I’m also white, right? okay, great.
- The asks that tell me I’m such a slut and huge bitch
- The asks that send something not novel, but of course, hateful, ignorant, accusatory. They dare me to post it, but they don’t think I have the guts because I can’t take criticism… Do you even read my blog?
- The asks that are follow-ups a few hours later “laughing” at me because I didn’t have the courage to post their boring and pathetic ask. Because I might have had something better to do with my day, but they sure as hell didn’t
- One of my personal favorites: the ask that tells me she shared my blog with her mother today (the second wave feminist), they read it for hours page after page and it made her cry. She told me I ruined all her pride in the movement. Well, I tend to dislike second wave feminists so I guess we’re even?
- The asks with the fuck yous and the anons who write purely to “strike a nerve”.
- The asks telling me I have no reason to be scared walking down the streets at night, because nothing will ever happen to me where I live. Please, tell me more about a place you don’t know, a walk you’ll never take.
- The asks telling me they’ll rape me worse…
(all of these were types of asks I received today, some anon, others not)
I’m not naive, I know that my blog has enough readership that this is not going to go away. But when I read that comment from jetpack-johnny, that did it for me.
I can’t retort to make me feel better or to put someone in their place. There is no coming back from that, from receiving and absorbing those kind of toxic comments constantly and without rest.
My alternative response to I hope you burn was to just get really real, really fast. Welcome these horrible human beings in to my askbox who don’t believe me, want to shame me, or think I wasn’t raped hard enough, violent enough, or traumatically enough to warrant any stance on the matter. I just threw up my hands and said to myself, if this is what you want. Fine. I will tell you every disgusting detail that I remember. perhaps that will satiate these sick, predatory, inconsequential fucks.
But it won’t. And that would just hurt me. Even if it felt alleviated at first, I have a public space where people come back days or weeks later and use personal information and confessions against me. The sheer existence of this forum can be violent to me.
And that’s what my friend’s response to me was. He said that he knows I help people every day through my blog, but he thinks that any good it has done for me is long gone, and I’m hurting more and more from it.
I need to get that in check. I don’t like this at all. I will answer to actual criticisms, but I won’t answer to hate. It’s taken too much out of me, and it’s not worth it. I’ve been using Tumblr more than I should, perhaps I should start using my main site to do any and all blogging. We’ll see, but for now, that’s all I have to say on the subject.
I have a life outside of this tumblr. I am a person outside of this tumblr. Perhaps, if I haven’t responded to your hateful ask or your follow-up on the subject only hours later, it might be because I’m living that life, being that person that you’re so intimidated by. Live your life behind anon, but I’m out there every day being the real fucking deal.