Anonymous said: Ur incredible and great and I wanna be the gay dude version of you but I am not that brave so I will just imagine there is a world where we are bros and we rap monster together and I let u take both the kanye and nicki verse bc u deserve it and I'll jump on the jay z verse like a soldier on a grenade
This legitimately made me tear up because letting me take the Kanye AND Nicki verse is like the highest honor/sweetest thing I can think of
kelsyabbott said: What the hell is happening??
So about a month ago I posted to the #YesAllWomen hashtag on twitter & spoke openly as a rape victim. When I did this, I got inundated with a ton of harassment & rape threats.
Most of the time my response would be to block & report, but once in a while I’d take a screenshot of what the person said & then reply telling them to fuck off eternally into the night, etc. One of the people who harassed me for speaking up about my rape happened to be a 13 year old kid. I did not know this, because I was getting hundreds of replies & I don’t thoroughly investigate every account with 15 followers that responds to me with bullshit. I responded with this scathing little gem
& then a follower of mine, I guess looked at this person’s account & saw it was a kid who had recently posted a link to his personal facebook. The kid’s entire timeline at that time was him responding to/trolling the #YesAllWomen hashtag, arguing with rape victims & condemning feminism, you know, because that’s the world we live in right now. So this guy, crushingbort responded to a separate tweet the kid made about how comedians who make rape jokes are totally cool, & he posted a picture of the kid hugging his cat from his facebook, saying something like, “Joshua, you should really lock your facebook” or something. I thought this was hilarious because honestly, if you’re big boy enough to harass rape victims for being raped, you’re big boy enough to deal with the consequences. I had nothing to do with this, though. Then, about a month later, some pathetic Men’s Rights Activists found this exchange & went fucking ballistic, focusing all their rage on me, saying I “sexually harassed a child”, that I “doxxed a child” (I had nothing to do with the posting of his photo, but that’s not even doxxing at all, the kid himself said this). They went on a crusade against me using this kid as a flimsy excuse because they hate women & want to punish them. I received a ton of rape threats & even death threats.
I had to lock my twitter account to slow it down because I was getting about 4 per minute. They posted my personal information on 4chan & apparently attempted to post my little sister’s information too, but that was a tip I got & I didn’t see it anywhere so I’m not sure if it really happened. I started reporting all the threats to the FBI & got set up with a civil rights attorney, but a judge said I wouldn’t get the result I was hoping for unless the threats were “more direct”, like mentioning my location within the threat, my personal information within the threat, etc.
The kid himself knows that these MRAs are using him as an excuse to persecute women for whatever reason, & has told them to lay off, but you can’t reason with these idiots.
I’ve started ignoring it & they’ve eased up on the threats & have moved on to filing false reports with the Houston police department trying to say that I’m a pedophile or a child abuser & trying to blackmail me for being a child abuser or some shit, but that doesn’t bother me because it’s obviously all false.
So essentially, this is just what women with a voice have to deal with online. This is all because I spoke up about rape & being a rape victim, & this is just what I have to expect now. If I get any other threats that are “direct enough”, I’ll definitely jump on pursuing it legally, but until then, this is just what I’m dealing with. NEAT, HUH?!!?!?
Anonymous said: Kill yourself.
Anonymous said: You sicken me. Way to shit on feminism
Anonymous said: Rape jokes are hilarious and you should throw your useless fat ass off a cliff.
Anonymous said: Kill yourself.
Anonymous said: you think its fun to harrass children for expressing an opinion whore? funny how you try to argue against people being offensive by acting like a cunt, I know who you are. where you are. I'm gonna find you and end you. cunt.
rapgame-nilescrane said: you are truly so strong and amazing. you, personally, empower me to be unapologetic in my demands for respect and human decency. I truly look up to you and am so inspired by your lil sis who has grown SO so much in the time I have known her. please know I am across town ALWAYS sending love and good vibes. thank u for the girl power and thank u for fightin the good fight.
This pumps me up so much. It’s so weird to have this same old brain you had as a delicate teen witch who needed guidance but then realize the voice you needed was your own & you’re like “ohhhh, HERE she is”. Like, I was JUST you! It seems so recent! MAY XENA WATCH OVER YOU, SISTER-WITCH! Sending so much magic your way, but it’s only the kind of magic that helps you find your own magic, cos you fuckin’ GOT this.
EMDR (or Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) is a type of psychotherapy often used to treat PTSD. A lot of veterans and sexual assault survivors partake in this kind of therapy for “severe trauma that remains unresolved”. It helps you reprocess the disturbing imagery associated with your trauma. I’ve been doing EMDR on and off since January to help me work through my past of more than one sexual assault, the most recent being particularly violent and terrifying.
I walked into my therapist’s office yesterday, already prepared to start EMDR, but told her we needed to talk beforehand because more things had happened. “Things” - I give it a name that can be discarded. Things. Things that can be thrown away. Things that I can use to prop the hood of my car up and then throw in a fucking ditch. Things that I can use as both a projectile and blunt object when I need to protect myself from more Things. A week ago, a customer at work physically threatened me because another person who was not me told him something incorrect. The following day, I was told this attack was my fault and a “customer service issue”, instead of it being, you know, “an attack”. Then, a few days later, just this past weekend, a complete stranger verbally assaulted me at a gas station while I was pumping gas. When I refused to take this strange man’s unwarranted bullshit, he charged me, spit on my face, spit in my girlfriend’s face, and then put a lit cigarette out on my body. I saw the look on his face as his fist was raised above my head, the moment when he decided he would not actually hit me. It was not the first time I had seen this look, and it will not be the last. All the while, as my therapist knows, I wake up every morning with multiple rape threats from random men on the internet.
My therapist put her head in her hands. She didn’t talk for a minute. I didn’t either, but I laughed. What else can I do? I laughed. "There’s a flag over your head, Katie". I laughed again. I laughed. "There’s a flag over your head because you refuse to take it. You refuse to shut up. It’s part of your value system. You won’t be bulldozed and they know it and they hate it". I keep laughing. "I was so ready to be hit", I said. "I’ve been ready to be hit for a long time."
One thing that we do in EMDR is bring an image to mind of the thing that’s disturbing me. I didn’t have an image of that man at the gas station. I didn’t have an image of the man at work. I didn’t have an image of my rapist, of the police who refused to collect his semen as evidence, who looked me right in the eye and told me, “we won’t find him, we never do. You’re just a statistic”. I had an image of all of them. A big, black, sticky, ball of them, like they had all fallen down a hill and into a vat of tar, and now they were all stuck together - but they could move, they could reach, and they were coming right at me. “It’s different this time”, I said. “I’ve never felt fear like this”. My therapist asks me, on a scale of one to ten, how disturbing the image is. “Ten? Nine? Ten.” She then asks me to think of a word or phrase describing how this image makes me feel. “There’s a lot of words”, I said. “I’m going to die. I’m afraid and I’m going to die. I’ve never felt fear like this before. Adrenaline. I feel it coming. My palms are sweating. I’m afraid and I’m going to die”. We went with that last part.
I’m supposed to close my eyes and hold the disturbing image in my head while I repeat, in my head, the words about how it makes me feel. While I do this, she taps on the tops of my left and right hand one after another for a short amount of time but it never feels short. We do sessions of this, I stop, take a deep breath, talk about it if I need to, then continue. In my head I’m repeating “I’m afraid and I’m going to die”. Each session changes slightly. I get stronger, but I’m still scared. The scared part of me is a psychotic dog on the end of a leash. I can’t control it. It’s a toddler flailing uncontrollably. I can’t keep it still. I keep thinking, “what if I let go?” I’m afraid and I’m going to die. I’m afraid and I’m going to die. I’m afraid and I’m going to die and I’m fucking furious. I’m afraid and I’m going to die and I’m fucking furious and I’m stronger than you think. I’m afraid and I’m going to die and this is not my voice. Wait, what?
We stop. “It’s not my voice”, I say. “It’s not just my voice”. She looks at me and she knows. “It’s not”, she says. “You probably even know some of them. It’s all of us. It’s not just you”. How many other women have felt this way? How many other women have repeated this in their heads, never saying it aloud, repeating it like a spell, like a prayer, like a plea. How many women? “The fear, the dog on the end of the leash, what if it’s a voice? What if it just needs to be heard? What if I let it go?” So I said it out loud. I let it go. “I’m afraid and I’m going to die” and I laughed. I laughed. "I’m so fucking pissed off. I’m afraid and I’m fucking sick of it. I want to be done. I want to be fucking DONE".
The adrenaline had been pumping long enough to make me feel strong. Physically, I felt like I could lift a car over my head. I felt like I could push his body off of mine. I felt like I could break every finger he had wrapped around my neck, like opening latches on a door, to look out, and walk through. I felt loud, like I could be heard, because there wasn’t a hand the size of my head wrapped around my neck anymore. I wanted to be heard. I wanted them to be heard, because it wasn’t just my voice. I want them to feel strong like I did. I want them to break every fucking finger that’s wrapped around their necks, walk through the door, and fucking SHOUT.
I know that posting this will attract the monsters, and I know I will get threats for this, but I will not be silenced. I could write this on paper and know that it exists and put it in a drawer or sleep with it under my pillow like a gun, because it is a gun, because it IS dangerous, because men who don’t want to hear it treat it like a weapon. YOUR VOICE IS A WEAPON. I want you to take it and arm yourself with it. I want you to know that it’s not just me, and it’s not just you, and you aren’t paranoid, and it’s okay to be scared, because we all are, but there’s so many of us. I get rape threats every single day because I speak up against rape and misogyny and sexism and prejudice and hate, and they WILL NOT silence me, I will only get louder, and if you can’t speak up, if you haven’t found your voice yet, or if your voice isn’t as loud as mine, I WILL SHOUT FOR YOU, I WILL BE YOUR MICROPHONE, I WILL LIFT YOU UP AND WE WILL BE HEARD.