
Pleasure Activism: Of Building Cunt Nests

Here are some tips if you find yourself in a similar position:
– Is someone that reaches out to you only about themselves really your “friend”? Have you defined for yourself what friendship is?
– Notice in yourself the tendency to reply to cries of help immediately. Before replying, ask – what is my intention with this person? Then, wait atleast 20 minutes before you reply.
– PROCESS TIP:
If your friend seems to be not receptive to your help and you’ve spent 10 minutes of your day talking or texting with them, about their problem, ask them what exactly they are looking for, from you. If they communicate what they need and you can offer it, do it. Then let them know a bit about yourself.
Talk about your feelings, your thoughts.
Notice their response. Did they reciprocate? Did they ask about you? Did the conversation become about your day/your feelings/your relationship stuff too?
– If not, scroll back to your communication with this friend and check, have they been asking about you this past month at all? Is this a habit for them to reach out to you spontaneously, talk, seek help and say goodbye, without ever checking in on you? How does that make you feel? Have you enabled them to depend on you as their emotional sink?
– Often people will assume that the ‘helper type’ is strong and doesn’t need anything in return. The assumption is that if they need help they will ask. But I know, for a fact, we don’t ask. Due to our own childhood stuff, we have trouble asking/ we ask out of pent up resentment and then explode/snap. So, ask yourself- what blocks you from asking for support in return? If the answer is that this friend isn’t able to provide you the support you need too, then why are they your friend?
– Creating better dynamics for yourself will make space for you to welcome people who truly care about you too. Trust me, there are people like that out there and they can only come into your life, if you allow yourself the care and respect that you deserve.
Credit: AgentsofIshq
I LOVE MEN. I LOVE MEN. I LOVE MEN.
I am attracted to many men and everyday I meet men who are kind and wonderful. I write this because that’s not enough. Being kind and wonderful and honest IS not enough, today. I want to love more. For that, I need YOU to understand.
This is a triggering time for me. Bangalore, India is my home. A group of women were molested, in masses, on New Year’s eve, on a street I know too well. Bangalore is where I came out as queer and Bangalore is where I found identity as an artist.
But this, this is not about a place.
It is about each time my breasts are pinched on a train, or my ass is groped, be it during the Chicago Cubs rally or in a tightly packed Mumbai local to Churchgate… OR at house parties or in college, with the guy who brought me to some party, or an ex-boyfriend who didn’t understand what it means to threaten violence.
It is about each time I have to share the same articles with my male friends, and help them understand, what they don’t understand…,
what it is like to walk down the streets with breasts and a backside.
It is about each time my professors, teachers, mentors, all male, have breached my personal space, hugging me too tight, asking for a kiss after a meal, telling me to “not tell.”
It is about the fact that I can count on my fingers my male friends, who openly identify as feminist. Five, five to be exact.
It is about the fact that I cannot count on my toes and fingers, your toes and fingers, and her toes and fingers, the number of times I have experienced assault and had my female and male friends experience assault through sexual objectification and harassment.
This is not about waking up each time a rape, molestation, sexual assault is reported, and asking, “Now, what should we do?” and going back to our lives earning wages, making art, until the next time, when femininity is attacked, again.
This is not about statistics. Which city is safer. Which city is not the “rape capital”. There is no such thing. Every city, every street, every house is “rape capital”. Why? Because the DAMAGING effects of patriarchy are pervasive. So invisible, so internalized, our fathers get triggered if we bring it up and our male friends call us too sensitive, asking us to forget, to protect, to dress better and not tempt. (Message me if you want to read about this)
I know nothing else but to dedicate my life, my therapy, my work, my relationships, my friendships, my parenting to lessening the damages of the patriarchy. If my posts trigger you, great. If my work triggers you, great. If my life triggers you, great.
I refuse to be exhausted. I refuse to die a death where my voice is unheard and I shall agitate, educate, organize, share, speak, build, argue till my last breath, till women can walk from their house till the grocery store without fear.
Image: The Fearless Collective
http://fearlesscollective.tumblr.com/
On Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thefearlesscollective
And please note, dear readers- there is a reason I’m not saying I’ll keep working till EVERYONE can walk safe. I would love that. That would be ideal and that’s what the world must look like. But that’s not the point here. The specific trouble being addressed here is female objectification and assault by male privilege, which is one of the damaging effects of patriarchy.
“Buddhism teaches that however passionate two people are at the start of their relationship, over the course of time the intensity of that feeling will fade and change. This is because romantic love is all too often a manifestation of the world of Rapture, which is, by definition, short-lived. The passing of the rapturous phase does not necessarily mean that the couple will have stopped loving each other – although some people think this is what has happened and can get very worried – but that other aspects of the Ten Worlds have come to the fore.
For example, through the rose-tinted spectacles of Rapture, Ms A is beguiled by Mr B’s easy-going charm. But as Rapture fades, as it must, she’s increasingly irritated by what she now sees as his laziness and refusal ever to take a stand on anything. In other words, the tranquility that attracted her has begun to repel her.
It is in this confrontation with the reality of two people living their daily life together that the wisdom of Buddhism once again reveals itself.”
– Soka Gakkai Buddhism
Happy Holidays. Much strength to transform poison into medicine to those who are struggling in relationship, with themselves, their chosen or not chosen families and friends.
This can be a triggering time, please take care of yourselves- if possible, not by isolation but through gaining some new tools on conflict resolution, sharing in community and working through triggers…atleast that’s what helps me.
Since I published this post, I have been receiving many messages asking me to stop talking about friends’ personal lives. Just to clarify, this is a narrative based on memory. When I was young, I heard someone in the near family making a choice and that influenced me. What comes out now, is fictional.
Displayed at University of Michigan SAPAC ( Sexual Abuse and Prevention Centre, Ann Arbour, Michigan)’s art exhibit called Revolution, the pictures can be found here.
You were an object
A toy
An instrument
They said
He used you
They said
I have a girlfriend
He said
She loves me
He said
But doesn’t fuck me
Like you do
He said
I love her
He said
I love you
He said
He used you
They said
You fuck me too well
He said
To let go
He said
Would you love me too
I said
If she didn’t love you
I said
You think too much
He said
Won’t you hold me tonight
He said
I like your hat
She said
Walking in the snow
Hot ginger lemon in one hand
The other arm
Tightly tucked
In his
You have lovely eyes
I said
Heard so much about you
I said
Seen your picture
I said
He loves you
I said
The girl who fucked dishonesty
They said
The boy who loved
Two worlds
They said
And kept each a secret
They said
Because the girl was too nice
They said
She was scared
They said
To lose what she never had
They said
How did they know
I said
Can you keep a secret
I said
I’ve just met you
She said
Smiling, amused by this girl
But, sure
She said
Tell me
Don’t we need to go
He said
It is getting late
He said
It is getting late
I said
It is probably
Too late already
I said
Whatever do you mean
She said
I fucked him
I said
He fucked me
I said
He fucked you
I said
You are a whore
A bloody whore
She said
Bloody
She said
An honest one
She said
Coffee in our hands
What could I do
I said
What can I do
She said
You are a whore
They said
You shouldn’t have told her
They said
You won’t sleep with me, then?
He said
You are a fucker
She said
She was right
She said.