Feminist – …on the B.L.

I Am Not Trauma Bonding

November 20, 2021November 18, 2021 RaeAnna

I am not trauma bonding.

I’m incredibly open about my past, which was basically 24 years of constant trauma. (The last six have seen their trauma, but nowhere near the first two and a half decades of the hellscape I called home.) So fun! It’s a huge part of my life and led to my career in social justice and writing and depression (kidding?). If I could separate me the person from me the traumatized, I fucking would. But I can’t. It is ever present. A character in my story. It comes up. In my stories and especially in my humor. If you don’t like dark humor at my own expense… I’m probably not for you. To be in my life is to have some familiarity with my trauma. Don’t confuse that with bonding or asking others to take it on. I’ll carry that weight; I’ve got this; it’s not new. My pain is a familiar companion.

My trauma solidified my existence as a raging intersectional feminist in search of knowledge.

When a new person starts to enter my life in a non-surface relationship, I tend to give the ten minute run down. Friends, dating, whatever. The rundown will happen sooner rather than later.

I am not trauma bonding.

Sharing the events that made me is as necessary as where I’m from and who my siblings are. I am a writer who specializes in memoir work. One of the biggest reasons I give the rundown is because I want a person to find out from me what happened to me. It’s a heads up. A hey, I’m okay. I don’t want them to find out all the really violent and awful things that were my daily life through an Instagram post, an article on Medium, through my blog, on Facebook, or worse a 280 character tweet. I’m not about to do that to a person cause that just feels shitty to me. I wouldn’t want to find out someone I care about even a teensy bit was gang raped at nineteen. I want people to know I’m okay; I’m not a sploot on the surface of the Earth. I’m a broken, thriving human.

I am not trauma bonding.

My story opens the door for people to tell me their own stories. Or not. It’s up to them. I’m not trying to have a good cathartic cry and feel my feelings with someone. No one gets that. Tears and devastation are left for solo road trips and hot showers. I’m not looking to be raw and open. I’m looking to change the world, even if it’s just in small ways. My story is not new, but it has had an impact on people’s lives; helped them find their own voice; not feel so alone; know someone somewhere sees their pain and cares. My story is in the world because I want to end the stigma for survivors, for those who did not survive, for those who have yet to survive. Maybe my story will stop someone from going too far and creating another survivor. I don’t know. Do we ever really know the impact of our existence in the world? All I know is that I have a voice. I have a past. I will use my voice to do as much good in the world as I can.

I can be broken and strong, femme and capable, vulnerable and resilient, traumatized and healthy.

I am not trauma bonding.

I am simply preparing people for what the reality of being in my life is. To stand by my side in any significant capacity is to bear witness to pain that was, is, and will be. Though the events of my past are solidly in my past, the consequences and pain are ever evolving. I’m constantly reconciling and healing. Honestly, I’m also testing the waters to see if this new person can handle it. Out of sheer self-preservation, I’m not going to let myself become emotionally involved with someone who will flee when the hard stories start coming up. Let alone if they invest a lot of time and get to the point where they may see the consequences of another’s actions in the form of my anxiety, PTSD, depression, and OCD. The truth is, I am a bit of a mess. My life and mental health is really in a good place considering, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have bad days. I want to know I can potentially show a side of me that is not completely together and capable. I don’t want to hide integral pieces of myself. Fuck, I’m not going to stop writing, talking, and fighting for change because someone is uncomfortable with my past; I’ve been there too many times to do it again. I take pen to paper, fingers to keys, putting that pain on display for the world to see and hopefully feel. This is my job. This is my purpose.

I am not trauma bonding.

Silence was my protector for so long. I refuse to be silent. I refuse to be a well behaved woman. I am strong. I am broken. I am clumsy. I am kind. I am funny. I am sad. I like to think I’m smart. I am multitudes. But I am traumatized. I am not asking a single person to take that trauma on. It is just a story among many stories of my life.

bisous un обьятий,
RaeAnna

11..., Lifestyle

11… Books for Women’s History Month

March 16, 2020March 15, 2020 RaeAnna

Hanging out in the Iowa State Law Library in Des Moines, Iowa. | Skirt | Sweater | Shoes |

Every year, I like to read books dedicated to a few of the heritage months. Last month, I did not read as much for Black History Month as I’d hoped, oh well. I use the heritage months as a way to educate myself.

The one month I don’t celebrate through my reading list is Women’s History Month. I don’t need to. Not that I’m the most educated person on the topic, most of the books I crack are written by and about women. I find them more interesting. Gender studies is one of my favorite topics to read about. I tend to have to go out of my way to read books by and about men in the fiction genre – history is another story altogether. I just don’t care as much about the protagonists when they’re men. Sorry, but not actually. I have always thought a woman’s story, no matter who she is/was, is far more engaging to me than those of men. Men are great, sure, but I’d rather spend my time reading about my people.

I completely and full-heartedly support Women’s History Month, but I don’t make a point of dedicating my reading list to it. My entire reading list, all year long is a devotion to women, our history, our issues, our future. If you want to read more books about and by women, here are eleven of the books and authors who opened my mind and enthralled me as a young reader, as a student, and as an adult!

Rose in Bloom Louisa May Alcott
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl Harriet Jacobs
The Awakening Kate Chopin
Funny in Farsi Firoozeh Dumas
All The Single Ladies Rebecca Traister
Americanah Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Reading Lolita in Tehran Azar Nafisi
Homegoing Yaa Gyasi
Herland Charlotte Perkins Gilman
The Second Sex Simone de Beauvoir
To the Lighthouse Virginia Woolf

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

Books, NonFiction

Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists by Mikki Kendall and A. d’Amico

January 16, 2020January 16, 2020 RaeAnna

Worth A Read ABSOLUTELY
Length 208
Quick Review A fun and educational graphic history of women existing in the world. It’s empowering and honest. I absolutely LOVED this one.

wp-1579228612902 — Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists by Mikki Kendall and A. d’Amico is amazing. | Dress | Red Heels | Purse | Watch | Necklace | Earrings | Red Lipstick

I have always had a thing for historical women. My entire childhood and adolescence was spent searching for the women in history who did more than marry and have babies – there is nothing wrong with either/both of those things. I wanted to see women in power, women creating history, women doing the things only men were allowed to do. My love of history and research was born 21 years ago when I found Queen Elizabeth I because she inspired me to reach for more. I wish Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists by Mikki Kendall and A. d’Amico had existed for childhood me because I would have loved it. It’s a compilation of women throughout history and across cultures, documenting the struggles and successes they faced.

There is so much to talk about in this graphic history, but I’ll keep to the highlights.

The narrative is set up in a really interesting way. I don’t know what other graphic novels/histories look like, so my perception of how the narrative looks in comparison to others might be completely off. There’s a class of girls (middle or high school) at school, and their teacher is AI. The girls are all different colors and cultures. The teacher takes them through women’s history starting in Sumer 3000 BCE and leads them through history around the world, recounting stories of remarkable women and cultural norms. Throughout the book, the girls ask questions, make statements, and share opinions. Sometimes there are comments marked by prejudice, which allow the girls to confront those [ill founded] opinions and resolve them. It’s such a powerful way of depicting the multitude of ways women can oppress and harm one another due to differences in education, culture, religion, race, and more. The teacher often answers the questions or tells them to wait for the answer because it will come.

Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists is filled with fabulous quotes. So often they are marked with emotion, like exasperation, “So Roman rule came with the “gift” of patriarchy. Great.” Or the fact women might not have had as much limelight, rights, power, or many other things, there is the moment when their historical power was acknowledged, “There is never a moment in history in any culture where women weren’t a major force.”

History has almost always been told by, interpreted by, seen through the eyes of men. Women have been systemically oppressed for millennia on the basis of religion, thought, and philosophy, all which were dominated by men. The book points out how manuscripts were often altered or interpreted differently throughout history, which had an impact on women’s lives, and are still echoed in today’s cultures and treatments of women. Men used their power to keep their power, “Before Irene, no woman had ruled any part of the Holy Roman Empire alone. The pope counted her throne as empty and crowned Charlemagne.”

No topic is off limits. With ferocity and fearlessness Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists tackle sex, religion, slavery, education, and everything in between. The authors aren’t afraid to destroy preconceived notions instilled in us by our education systems. Abolitionists weren’t all great. They wanted the vote for women, white women. Susan B. Anthony was against black women having the right to vote. Feminism also comes under focus, especially in regards to gender, sexuality, and race. Feminism has historically only been open to white women. Black women and other women of color were excluded. I love the very intersectional approach to history and feminism. One of my favorite quotes and a motto (in various words) I have been living by for over a decade: “There’s nothing feminist about excluding people.”

Kendall and d’Amico sum up women’s history and rights in the quote, “The history of women’s rights isn’t linear. It’s complicated and different cultures had different norms.” Time may be linear, but our history, our rights, our existence has not been linear. We often took large steps forward just to be pushed back.

This graphic history is fun and colorful and educational, but it is a sweeping history of women around the world and the devastation they have faced throughout human existence. As a woman, I suggest it to everyone. It’s feminist and beautifully done, but it approaches really hard topics with kindness. I can’t help but love this book. It’s an amazing place to start for girls wanting to know about their history. I wish I had had this as a young girl, but I have it now!

Fun Fact The world’s oldest continually operating educational institution is still open was founded by a woman in Fez, Morocco. (The University of Al Quaraouiyine) I hope to visit it one day.

Memorable Quotes
“Welcome to the history you clearly never learned.”
“Sometimes rulers meant ‘over my dead body’s literally.”
“Your world is as big as you make it.” Georgia Douglas Johnson
“As always, women led the way in America and abroad.”
“You know that women are always looked upon as nothing; but we are your mothers; you are our sons.”

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

Buy Amazon | Buy Barnes & Noble | Buy Book Depository
Shop the Post
[show_shopthepost_widget id=”3882873″]

Title: Amazons, Abolitionists, and Activists
Author: Mikki Kendall and A. d’Amico
Publisher: Ten Speed Press
Copyright: 2019
ISBN: 9780399581793

wp-1579228613207 — I enjoyed this book. | Dress | Red Heels | Purse | Watch | Necklace | Earrings | Red Lipstick

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

I Am A Servivor

October 12, 2019 RaeAnna

“Just another career-obsessed, nail-biting, manophobic, hell-bent feminist she-devil.”

I hate the title survivor.

I’m not a victim. Not anymore. I was a victim when it was happening. But after…

There isn’t a word I’ve found to resonate with my broken pieces. And I’m a words-person. Silence. Nothing. Guilt. Solitude. Shame. Numb. Lost. Broken. They’re not titles I can put on a shirt or a sign to identify myself as one of many in a march. They are feelings. The feelings that have never left me from the moment his hands first touched me with violence in their intent.

I never say, “I’m a survivor,” or “I survived.” I can’t. It feels like a lie. It would be a lie. I didn’t. I did not stand up as the same girl he held down. I didn’t survive. Rape is murder. He murdered who I was. Every time killed a part of me.

The closest I’ve ever come to finding a way to describe myself is “raped,” but people don’t like that. If people have to face humanity’s ability for violence and destruction, they want to see someone strong and owning it or broken and hiding it. Survivor. How happy. How uplifting. What a positive spin on a tragic epidemic. It’s ignoring the actions that were survived. Focusing on the survivor having survived. Past tense. It happened. It’s done. Let it go. Move on.

Survivor. It’s a bow to wrap up a present we don’t want to open. We know the gist of what happened. Some hazy sort of violence. No specifics needed; that one word says it all. It tears down the facade we’ve so diligently constructed, letting people in just enough for them to know there’s a dark past but not enough they actually know a damn thing. Survivor: say the word. People get a sad look in their eyes, “I’m so sorry.” But stop there. It’s a bow to wrap up the story people don’t want to hear.

Ignoring the story, the nitty gritty of it, is its own kind of violence.

Putting people at ease, letting them remain in their comfort zone is easy, kind. It does not facilitate change. If people are comfortable, they’re complacent. Change comes from agitation rooted in pain and suffering. I don’t write about this because it’s fun to dwell in the dark pain of someone’s choices to destroy my mind and undermine my identity. I write because I was raped. I was raped for years. I was beaten. I was abused. I was shared. I was torn. I was hurt. I write because too many people can say the same. Some say it. Many do not. Silence is a virtue. I don’t have that virtue. I had no voice for so long, but I have one now. I tell my story to make people uncomfortable. I tell my story because it is time for change. I tell my story because it has helped people, opened minds, changed minds, softened minds, and made people angry. I tell my story because I can. Many are not able to because of pain or circumstance or they’re no longer alive to tell theirs. I am still here. A broken, tired, angry, hurt version of who I used to be. I did not survive, but I am still here.

I have been writing and blogging and processing in various ways for almost a decade. In college, I wrote under a pseudonym about being a stripper to pay for school and food and a roof not because I was ashamed but because I didn’t know what my future was uncertain. After college, I started a blog to talk about my life and how I struggle to pick up the pieces of my soul. A few years ago, I started …on the B.L., and it quickly grew into something real with a following. I haven’t kept my past or advocacy separate from this, but I haven’t focused on it either. It’s been present by quiet. But no more. This is the driving force behind everything I do. Creating change. My story, as painful as it is, keeps me going.

I hate the word survivor. I don’t feel like I survived. I feel like I just didn’t die; though, there were years I wished I had. I like the word servivor. I’m using my story to serve others by creating change in whatever way I can.

I am a servivor.

I will stand tall. I will stand firm. I will tell my story. I will serve.

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

Pride 2019

June 25, 2019June 25, 2019 RaeAnna

Rainbow Dress (So many compliments and linen!) | Heels | Belt | Purse | Hair Clip | Watch

The fact we have to have a month to bring awareness to any population of the world is shitty. I truly wish the world was a loving and accepting place full of kindness, but it isn’t. Which is why we have African American History Month in February, National Women’s History Month in March, Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage Month in May, National Hispanic-Latino Month in September, National American Indian (cringe) Heritage Month in November. This month of June is Pride Month to celebrate all our LGBTQIA+ brothers, sisters, and gender nonconforming family members.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a family and church where sexual orientation and gender identity were nonissues. My parents wouldn’t have cared if I came home with a girlfriend. When I was young, the church I grew up in created a mission statement accepting and welcoming people of all identities as God’s children. Two places where seeds of hate and ignorance could have – and for so many are – sowed, I was given examples of acceptance and love. People are who they are. I have always believed and will continue to believe sexual orientation and gender identity are a part of who a person is and cannot be changed, though they are often far more fluid than people realize.

Pride month is important to me like all the other months celebrating the beautiful diversity of humanity. I have known out LGBTQIA+ people my entire life. (We all know them, we might not be aware, though.) I remember my parents explaining to me, at four or five, why our family friend brought another man instead of a woman to dinner. The conversation went pretty much like this: Mom/Dad, “Instead of falling in love with a girl, he fell in love with a boy.” My reaction was along the lines of “ok.” Totally scarred for life. Just kidding. I loved him, he loved a man. Cool. When I was 15 and a freshman in high school, my mother asked me if I was gay because I had no interest in boys. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was a question. I was not a lesbian then, and I’m not now. (Although, my sexual preferences are probably more fluid than I had thought possible at 15.) People I knew came out at all ages around me. In college, I knew a ton of gay, lesbian, and bi kids; there were even people transitioning. On the first day of class, one of my classmates introduced herself and said she was transitioning and would prefer to be addressed with the pronouns “she and her.” I went to a very liberal school, and everyone had a nonreaction of “cool.” She was a she, and no one cared or made a big deal about it. It wasn’t really until after graduating from college, when I ran into homophobia or transphobia along with a lot of other phobias based on rigid and outdated ideas of how people work. I knew they existed, but it seemed like it should be a thing of the Ozarks where there is a lack of teeth and running water.

Dress | Heels | Belt | Purse | Hair Clip | Watch

I’m all about Pride because everyone should support people embracing who they are. I’m also all about Pride because I have two gay cousins, who I love very much. I have friends who are LGBTQIA+, who I love very much. I want them to be able to inhabit the world with the same rights, protections, and abilities to be who they are and love who they love as their straight, cisgender neighbors without fear of violence or persecution. The world is changing; not nearly as fast as I would like. Marriage equality has been passed in my lifetime. It’s a huge step forward, but there are so many more to go.

Falling anywhere on the LGBTQIA+ spectrum or not on it at all is fine by me. I don’t care either way as long as you are a good person. My opinions are my own, and I would never push my own opinions and feelings on other people. I may not know a great deal. I do believe acceptance, kindness, and respect should be given to all people because every person is deserving.

Shop the Post
[show_shopthepost_widget id=”3626596″]

20190624_184709 — Rainbow Dress (literally the best) | Belt | Purse | Heels | Watch | Hair Clip |

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

I Will Say “Tampon”

June 18, 2019June 23, 2019 RaeAnna

I recently saw this jar of tampons in a unisex bathroom in a Houston restaurant. I got to thinkin’.

I want to talk about tampons. I get to talk about tampons because this is my blog, and I can talk about anything I want. Today, it’s tampons. You do not have to be here or read this or care about my opinions.

It’s not that I love talking about tampons. It’s more of a need. There’s a need to talk about them. Tampons make people uncomfortable. Tampons make women uncomfortable. Talking about them; we wear them just fine. Tampons make men uncomfortable. Tampons completely bewilder men. How is it that half of the population has almost no clue how tampons work? I have dated a handful of men, and none of them knew how a tampon worked. (I once showed my college boyfriend how they worked.) There are girls out there who don’t know how tampons work. Insanity! Do not make girls wear the mini, sticky diapers, I mean, pads. Unless that’s their choice. Then, I’m just in disagreement with their life choices.

Periods, in general, elude men. I found out recently a whole section of men think women can just hold it. “It” being our periods. I’m pretty phenomenal and impressive, but I can’t hold my period. I don’t know any woman who can. It shows up whenever it wants to. It’s like a hurricane or an earthquake. There are signs, but once it’s on its way, there’s no stopping it. Mother nature is miraculous. Periods differ from pee. They come out completely different holes. Spoiler the urethra and the vagina are different. One is for pee. One is for babies and sexy time. There is bladder control, but there’s no such thing as uterine lining shedding control. That’s why women NEED tampons or pads or diva cups or Thinx (I had to google “magic period underwear” cause I couldn’t remember what they’re called) or whatever other weird invention is out there.

I don’t blame men or women for not knowing about tampons or periods. The education system is failing us. This is a basic bodily function like peeing or shitting. It happens. It’s nature. Everyone should know about it. Everyone should know about tampons and the other contraptions. Tampons make it easier for women to carry on with our lives. It’s far better than being sent to a tent outside the city for a week. (Although, there are times when that doesn’t seem half bad. Especially if the tent has a spa or pool boys.)

In April, my period showed up unexpectedly while I was at to Axpona, an audio expo, with my dad. My dad, bless his heart, is immune to period talk because I grew up in a house where it was normal!!!! Periods happen. My dad never had a problem buying tampons or grabbing one from the bathroom for me. It’s life; he’s a good dude. During the unexpected visit from my underwear demon, I had no tampons with me. I was at an expo made up of 98% men, and the only place with tampons was a CVS kiosk. I bought the box; it was the only option. My mom tried to make me hide the box in my tiny purse. I didn’t. I walked through the many, many men, who were all around my dad’s age, with a box of tampons on full display. My mom was embarrassed. I was not. The men either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Either way, the only person who cared was my mom. Periods happen. Tampons help. We should never be embarrassed by either one.

I always get excited when I see unisex bathrooms. I think they’re great. What makes me even happier is when I see tampons in a bathroom. Recently, I was in a unisex bathroom with a counter. The only thing on the counter was a glass jar of tampons [pictured above]. This seems small, but it’s really not. It’s kind to the women who need tampons. More importantly, it’s a step in the right direction towards normalizing the female body and all that goes with it. Like tampons.

There are so many things I could talk about when it comes to tampons. Tax. Diva cups. Stigma. Education. Toxic shock syndrome. Plastic. Chemicals. Fertility. The list goes on. I have opinions, obviously. My biggest issue surrounding tampons is the stigma. I want it to disappear. Until a doctor will give me a hysterectomy (I keep asking), I will have a period and a need for tampons. I’m going to say “tampon” and “period” with as many decibels as is necessary. Never will I speak in hushed tones or try and hide a tampon to make other people feel comfortable.

This is life. Periods, literally, help bring life into this world. So… yep!