Have you ever heard the phrase cockblocking? You know, you’re at a bar, talking to a girl, and what happens? Her less attractive friend comes over and ruins everything. Cockblock. Well I have to tell you something guys: I have been the less attractive friend, and you were NOT cockblocked. I was following orders from my better-looking friend that she did not wanna fuck you. …Girls have two signals for their friends: ‘I’m gonna fuck him’ and ‘HELP.’
The number of “get me out of here” tactics women have developed and shared to help each other escape from overly-insistent-to-borderline-predatory dudes in public places should probably be enough evidence of the existence of rape culture all on its own.
I especially like how, in the majority of cases, you don’t have to verbally communicate what your signals are to other women. I’ve had women I didn’t even know come save me. Literally every woman recognizes the “Dear god, help me” facial expression, and knows exactly what they should do. We don’t get a handbook for this. We don’t have a sit-down nail polish party where we talk about a standardized woman code for preventing creepers. It’s just part of being a woman.
BUT LOL RAPE CULTURE DOESN’T EXIST.
Yup. I’ve definitely taken strangers by the arm and pulled her aside to go, “Oh my GOD it’s you! How ARE YOU?!? It’s been so long!” and then been like “hey I could overhear that guy who wouldn’t leave you alone so I figured I’d give you an out” and then see their VISIBLY RELIEVED expressions. This is part of girl code, because rape culture is that pervasive.
I once had a girl sit on my lap and say “hey baby” after she witnessed a guy (who was easily 20+ years older than me) hitting on me and harassing me for my number even after I told him I was taken. After he got up and left she asked if I was okay. I couldn’t thank her enough times, I even bought her a drink.
When I was 16 years old, I went to a club with my mother to see a band perform. The part of the club where the concert was taking place was too hot and crowded, and I broke away from it before I had a full anxiety attack, though I was still visibly shaken. As I sat down at the bar, with my clearly marked under-18 hand stamp, an older man sat down next to me and started talking about how much nicer concerts were in his home country. He kept trying to offer me drinks, even though I already had a cup of ice. He would not leave me alone, even after I pointed out my hand stamp. Said that he preferred younger girls. I started to panic again.
A woman that was about 6’1” came over, grabbed me, and about screamed, “Girlfriend! I lost you in the crowd! Come on, your dad’s outside to get us!” She dragged me outside of the club, gave me a hug, and left. I ended up ditching my mum and actually calling my dad to pick me up.
Never ignore the ‘please help me’ face, ladies.
i love girls(via kinqslayer)
When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty.
I don’t understand why when we destroy something created by man we call it vandalism, but when we destroy something by nature we call it progress.
When did we become a country where the millionaires are jealous of the people on food stamps? A country that thinks teachers and fire fighters are soaking us dry? A country that thinks the richest who are paying the lowest taxes in 80 years are the ones being beaten up?
i’m not like other girls. actually, i’m nothing like other girls. and that girl u saw get on the bus earlier isn’t like other girls either. it’s surprising, really. it’s almost as if everybody is different from each other. holy shit