Cherries, Shorts, and Idiocrisy a.k.a. GFY

Two days ago, I visited my family in Mississippi.  We went to New Orleans for the day.  I, like I always do, wore incredibly short shorts because that's how I am.  While in my incredibly short shorts, I bent down to tie my shoes.  While doing so, a car drove by, rolled down his window, and shouted, "Girl, you shouldn't be doing that," and continued to stare at me until he couldn't see me anymore.  I stared back.  The tone in his voice was serious.  It said, "No, really, you shouldn't be wearing those shorts and bending over.  Who do you think you are? Go put some clothes on." 

I'm angry. 

I'm so sick of society constantly telling women how to dress.  We tell our daughters to cover up.  To not expose because you will look like a whore.  People will think you are a slut.  They will think you are sexualizing your body.  To be good, to be right, to be looked at wholesome, you should dress wholesome.  And this is bullshit. 

For once, I want you to take your preconceived notions, what you have been taught, and toss them out the window.  You can pick them up after you listen to this.

This is bullshit because what we are also saying is, "Hey, men, look at this woman in these clothes.  She is a sex object.  She is a slut.  She is a whore.  She is not wholesome." 

Everyone gets angry about the objectification of women, and yet they don't even understand where it stems from.  It doesn't stem from nudity.  It stems from making nudity objectifying.  Are we seeing the difference?   No?  Let me give you an example.

Growing up, cherries were all the rage.  Every clothing article had it. Cherries are a fruit.  They grow.  You can eat them.  They are food.  They are just fucking cherries.  But do you remember why they were on everything?  Because of the saying, "She popped her cherry."  Cherries went through a fad because they symbolized innocence and the idea of removing that innocence.  The popping of that cherry. Shorts said sexy with cherries beside them.  Pursues had cherries on them.  Pin up girls were now sporting the cherries.  Cherries came on necklaces and hats.  I remember walking around and seeing nothing but cherries on every female article of clothing.  But alone it's just a fucking cherry, right?  I mean without the meaning we've placed on it, it's a cherry.

That's the female body for you.  Alone, I am a female.  I have boobs.  I have nipples.  I have thighs.  I have an ass.  And it's simply a body. 

Then society goes and says, "We are going to take the female body, like we did with those cherries, and put a meaning on it.  We are going to give it names.  We are going to objectify it. To show these parts, just like to wear those clothes with cherries on them, means you are a certain way." 

Are you understanding now?

So now that we've objectified the female body, we are going to continue the objectification of it by reminding you of how sexual it is.  All the time.  Through ads, through cat calls, through the shakes of the heads we give when we see you wear revealing clothing, by telling our sons not to date women who dress this way, by being part of the fucking problem. 

I mean, when did you sit your son down and tell him that image doesn't say who a person is.  That no matter what she is wearing, she actually has a fucking brain and a personality.  No.  You told him, "Don't date that girl because she dresses like that."  And then you told your daughters, "Don't wear that because people will think things about you," instead of teaching her how to have a fucking brain. 

You are a part of the problem.

So next time you want to roll your eyes at the girl dressed like a "whore" because she's "objectifying" herself, remember that you are, in reality, the one objectifying her. Idiot.  

What Being Braless Has Taught Me

 



That for one, my boobs will never look like the woman's above.  I've been braless for about five days now.  Completely.  I wake up in the morning, put on a shirt, and out the door I go (pants and maybe shoes of course).  I've been wanting to do this for a while now.  I've been working in a show, though, with a woman who's been braless since she was sixteen.  Never wears one.  It's how her life is.  Talking to her made me decide to do it.  So I did.  And I realized some things about myself that kind of shocked me.

I'm not entirely comfortable with my body.  This is coming from a girl who is completely naked all the time usually.  In fact, my best friend came over today and as he knocked on the door I screamed, "Give me a second.  I'm not wearing any clothes."  His response, "What else is new?" 

I've walked around countless women and gay men without any clothes on like it was nobody's business.  And I'm completely comfortable with it.  Enough to where it's like I'm not really even naked. 

But the minute I began not wearing a bra in public, I realized my insecurities.

On the first day, I woke up, put on a shirt and went into the bathroom.  Immediately, I was mortified. I guess I had never realized how incredibly small my boobs were.  Since I could remember I've worn bras with padding like you wouldn't believe existed.  Pushups galore.  No bra I own does not contain padding.  In fact, I've probably got five Victoria Secret Bombshells in several colors and designs.  I never realized, though, how much this had effected my outlook on my personal appearance until looking in that mirror.

My mother blessed me with a butt.  It's a pretty big size for my body type, but as I sat there looking in the mirror, I saw how much of a "pear" I was.  I literally went from flat to a bottom, and I couldn't tell you how much I felt less than female.  I felt less sexy.  Less curvy.  I felt lacking.  I had for years created a physical appearance of an hourglass figure.  Curves on top as well as on bottom.  I had done this for so long, that I now realized I didn't really even perceive myself as what I naturally was.  Only what I had created. 

And I know it's stupid.  I know you are probably shaking your head right now while reading this, but I walked outside my house feeling less confident.  Less sexy.  Less womanly.  I am cursed with little boobs and I walked out in shame. 

But I'm becoming more comfortable.  I'm realizing that even though I thought I wasn't obsessed with society's perception of the female figure, I was indeed obsessed with it.  So much that I had been making myself appear that way for years.  But now I have began learning to be okay with my natural self.

What's been really fun is buying clothes.  I now buy clothes specifically designed for my tiny boobs.  And trust me, they make hot shit for them.  Not clothes that made them look like they are bigger.  Just ones that complimented what little was there. 

We all have this perception of what is female.  Therefore, what is sexy.  Boobs are one of them. I remember this horrible sad short story I read in English class about a woman who felt less than female after her breasts were removed from breast cancer.  It was heartbreaking, and I remember thinking how ridiculous it was.  But now, I see how much our society pushes that.  It's why Bombshells even exist.  It's why when I was watching a movie today about a porn star, one of the lines a character said was, "Once we get done with this project, we'll work on your boobs."

It's all ridiculous.  Women come in all shapes.  All sizes.  We have to learn to accept this.  I'm starting to learn to accept mine.

Another thing, I wanted to talk about, though, more importantly, was the reaction I received from voicing this insecurity. 

Once learning this about myself, I started talking to other women about it.  And their reaction:

"Oh, stop.  You are ridiculous.  I'd kill to be as little as you."  "You are beautiful.  Stop complaining."  Oh, but you are so tiny.  Get over it."  "If only I had your body."

Which, by all means, is sweet.  Really.  But it's frustrating.  Because being thin, I've apparently been denied the freedom to be openly insecure.  I cannot voice my own opinions about my own body.  Whatsoever.  To do so is ludicrous.  It's ridiculous.  And I should shut up and not say anything else about it because it's insulting. 

Here's a little insight into the world of being thin and okay to look at:

I still have things I'm not comfortable with.  I get bloated as the fuck on my time of the month, and I'd love to fucking complain about it without someone telling me to shut my mouth like I have no right.  I have body parts I'm not happy about. Obviously, like I've talked about, my boobs.  I also have stretch marks near my thighs.  Although faint, they are there and for the longest time, I refused to wear bikinis because I was so self conscious about them.  My palms sweat.  Actually my whole body sweats.  Like a mofo.  Like I'm talking profusely.  When I go on meetings, hold hands with cast members for a bow, or with a boy across the street, I immediately apologize for them. It's embarrassing for me.  I tried taking medication for it but apparently medication for overactive sweat glands increases heart rates.  I have an abnormally fast one, so I can't take the normal meds.  So one time, the docs gave me medication that had a side effect that reduced sweating.  And what happened to me?  I had an allergic reaction and got sent to the emergency room. I can't wear certain color shirts.  Shit sucks.  Being thin and pretty have their perks, but they also have their downfalls.  My phone goes off around midnight onwards with texts full of blatant, crude comments.  I can't pitch LILITH to many men without them asking for something in return.  My body has literally become a sex object that hinders me from establishing any true connection with those around me.  The drink I'm being bought, the compliment I'm being given, the dinner I'm being taken out to are all being exchanged in hopes to get into my bed. 

And I'm really really really really tired of other women telling me that I can't complain about this.  That at least I'm thin and all other insecurities don't matter because of this. That at least I'm attractive enough to have these things such as booty calls and cat calls happen to me. 

But the truth is, we all have body issues.  We all have problems with our physicality.  We have problems with what it says.  What it doesn't say and so forth.  And big breasted women complain when small ones do because it's hard for them too.  And tall complain to short and short to tall.  Ass to no ass.  We are all complaining all the damn time.  But instead of dismissing each other's problems, it'd be ten times better if we just listened to them.  Help each other figure out what it is we truly have a problem with.  Help each other accept it.  Love it.  Embrace it.  Instead of telling one another to shut up. 

Little or small, we all are still struggling to accept our vessels.  It's important to remember this. 

This is small boobs, sweaty palms, stretch marks, booty called, bloated, Devin signing out,

and I'm okay with that. 

.... Or at least learning to be. :)

Love always,
Dev

Housewives vs Working Women

My photobooth is being faulty, so I decided to write this blog post...

So today's title is kind of deceiving because the point I want to get across is that we shouldn't all be against each other. So I have been watching a lot of Mad Men, and one of the main themes of the show is women in the workforce. Women have been fighting for years for equal opportunity in the work force, and though we are not there yet, society has become a lot more accepting of female workers. So much so that many people look down on women that are housewives today.

There is NOTHING wrong with being a housewife as long as it is not because a man is dictating what you do with your life, but because it is what you actually want for yourself. I cannot stress enough that the only thing that is important is that you run your own life. Many people lead unhappy lives because they live them for other people. Being a housewife is perfectly acceptable as long as you are not putting your own happiness on the backburner to fit into a role.

So ladies, live your life the way you want to. Live for yourself. Love yourself.

I love you all.

--Lenore

Sorry, Miss, You Cannot Feed Your Baby

So today, I was originally going to talk about my bra burning. Metaphorically speaking here. I've decided I'm through with them. This is day two of braless freedom. But then something happened. The universe said, "I think you should talk about this instead." So here it goes. 

Today as I was serving a table a tourist came up to me. She looked around for a minute, leaned in, and asked, "Excuse me.  Do you have a place where I can feed my baby." My heart literally sank into the floor. "No, miss.  We don't. I'm sorry." "There isn't a couch in the bathroom?" she asked. "No, there's a changing station, though." It was currently occupied. 

Then I watched this mother pick up her baby, open a stall, and have to breast feed her child on a toilet. 

I may joke about nudity. I may talk about being naked all the time. I constantly mention scantily dressed women which many don't agree with, but this, THIS right here is exactly why I stress the importance of getting over female nudity. Specifically breasts and nipples because in our country for a woman to publicly pull out her breast to feed her child would be considered indecent exposure because of her nipple. In fact, many of our bathrooms don't have places for women to sit and breast feed, and if they did half of them wouldn't because that's "something you do at home" and not in public. 

The benefits of breast feeding are endless. A boost in intelligence, immunity, and protection against certain allergies to list a few. Also it is suppose to help reduce your stress levels. Formulas have many health risks attached to them but we push our people towards them by shaming public breast feeding. Or you as a mother with a new born needs to find time out of your already busy schedule to pump at home. 

Fuck that. 

There is nothing crude about the picture above. In my opinion, I think it's beautiful. In the wild, as babies, we cannot eat on our own. Our bodies understand this so it provides the nourishment within it so that our mothers may feed us and help us grow.

But now it's indecent.

Hey society, in case you missed it in 5th grade science class, breasts exist to feed children. Nipples are perfectly designed for children to find and latch on to. As much as our boobs look great bouncing up and down while jogging or feel wonderful hand cupping during fondling, they were not made for your entertainment. They exist because they have a purpose, and that's to feed our offspring. So stop making them sexual and crude. Honor them for what they really are and start seeing them that way so I don't have to direct women to dirty toilet seats just so they can feed their babes. 

Thanks,

Dev

Abusive Relationships

Today's topic is abuse.  I have a friend that is an abusive relationship that is staying with me right now, so I figured I would take the time to talk about it to you lovely ladies.

Abuse, whether physical or mental, is not normal, and all of you strong beautiful women deserve better than that.

I can be reached on facebook or here for anyone that needs to talk.

I love you all.

SHOW ME YOUR BOOBIES

 

Hi Everyone!

So, why am I on here today because Devin got really passionate about this because it's something that pisses her off.  Wearing short dress, or short skirts, or exposing your chest does not make you a slut.  For one thing, we need to eliminate those words.  It's ridiculous these words exist.  This whole concept of "showing skin" makes you a whore, or that you are dressing disrespectful, is annoying. 

When we came out of our mother's Nunu.  And yes, I just called it that because my best friend calls it that, and I think it's hilarious. We came out nakey.  No baby came out clothed.  That'd be just fucking weird.  Skin is part of nature, and when it comes to the female body, it get's ridiculous how much taboo we put on it.  So much taboo to the point that when we show some of it, people get shocked at seeing some cleavage. 

And who in the hell doesn't like seeing boobies?  Like who are you?  Even gay men like boobies!  Show your boobies more.  It's stupid that a man can go around without his shirt on and it be fine.  He has nipples.  But if I was take my shirt off, it'd be a problem.  Does a little extra fat, a little bump, make it inappropriate?

No.  It's because we put so much taboo on the woman's body.  We have made it this object that is so untouchable, and it's suppose to be sacred, and only shown to one man.  And we have to cover up.  By covering it up we are respecting ourselves.  And it's kind of ridiculous because it's just skin!  By me showing it and dressing how I want to dress does not say anything about my morals.  It doesn't say who I sleep with and even if it did, it's none of your business. 

It doesn't say anything about the person I am.  When did sex and being a bad person fall hand in hand?  How does having sex or dressing a certain a way harm anyone else?  Why is it that we down on women and tell them they look like sluts?  I just don't understand.  These words need to stop.  They are specifically for women.  Specifically to down on them.  And to keep us scared of our own bodies.

By doing this, telling us to watch what we wear, and ridiculing us for it, it makes us fearful of our own bodies. This is my body.  MY BODY.  I have the right to do with it as I please.  I can wear what I want.  I can walk around naked if I want.  It doesn't mean I'm a whore or slut.  It just means that I think I have some legs and a nice ass and I like showing them off.  I'm proud of my body. 

AND I LIKE BOOBIES!  I mean who doesn't?  I just don't understand.  They're pretty.  The female body is beautiful.  My coworker said the other day.  She's a female and she was talking about how she likes looking at women more than men.  The female body doesn't have to be overtly sexual.  And yet we make it that way. 

And what happens is women end up fearing their own bodies. We start thinking differently of ourselves because of how we look on the outside.  And it needs to stop.

I will tell you this.  I'm not saying that by us walking around naked we can eliminate rape.  But I do know the more we make the woman body so taboo, the more we give others the ability to have power of it.  Because when you make something untouchable, or make it to where it needs to be covered, it gives more people a reason to want to take advantage of it.  People that are searching for power take things that are cloaked in fear and they use it.  They use it to gain power.

Everyone knows that rape isn't about sex.  It has nothing to do with the physicality of it.  It's about power.  It's why people rape people.  Because it makes them feel powerful because they were able to take something that isn't theirs. 

THE ONLY REASON WHY WE CALL WOMEN SLUTS BECAUSE OF THE WAY THEY DRESS IS BECAUSE OF THE TABOO WE PLACE ON FEMALE SEXUALITY.

And taboo is just bad people.  Look it up.  Do your research.  Anything that is considered taboo, people are drawn to because it's something you aren't suppose to do or like. 

All I'm trying to say is just let your boobies show.  You know? You want to walk around with cleavage showing, do it.  If you want to wear short shorts, do it.  You should be able to wear whatever you want.  Rock it.  Because you aren't a slut.  Or whore.  Or hoe.  Because the body is just a vessel.  It's a vessel for a soul.  The body.  Your clothes.  It says nothing about who you are on the inside.  The soul is what we should be looking at.  That's what we should be trying to see. 

Stop with the words.  Stop with thinking that dressing a certain way makes you a certain way.  It's part of why America is screwed.  Those are ideologies of a "Don't Get Raped" culture.  Showing skin doesn't mean that you can take advantage of me, or disrespect me.  No.  I dress this way because I want to.

And you, you should act like a decent human being.  It's as simple as that. 

We are Everywhere

Recently, I've been working on creating a short film.  It's a dystopian feminist short that deals with rape, image issues, choice, and fear. 

Yesterday, we were doing callbacks for it.  Without meaning to, we had scheduled the hard scenes first.  We started by auditioning men for the part of Adam. He is suppose to be symbolic of my own attacker, and it was a lot harder for me to watch than I thought it would be.  I found myself sitting with these horrible, uncomfortable emotions.  And then I started finding similarities between my attacker and them.  The color of his eyes.  The way he walked.  I watched them speak lines that I wrote, and it wasn't until that moment I realized how much I still feared that man.  Sometimes you write things subconsciously without realizing what you are really saying.  I wrote my fear, and I was watching it take form. 

After that scene, we auditioned boys for a part in the script that is suppose to juxtaposition Adam.  His name is Robert, and he's the only redeeming man in the short.  In his scenes, he gives Lilith choice.  He shows her what love can be, and I wrote it with her loving him back.  But when we acted out the scene and came to where I told him I loved him, I realized how unbelievably hard it was.  How I really had to search deep within my heart to allow him in.  To allow myself to say, "I love you," and mean it.  Then when they had all left, I broke down.  I broke down in that little tiny audition room because I was finally coming face to face with my own issues.  How I don't remember the last time I truly allowed myself to love anyone, really.  Not platonic love.  Real love.  Love that breaks walls.  Love that leaves you completely vulnerable.  I had forgotten all of that. 

What was even more heartbreaking, though, was I realized that if I wanted to do this short justice, I'd have to go to some deep dark scary places that I am not ready for. 

Why I'm telling this story, though, is because something happened very beautiful after that.  The last people we auditioned were older women.  In my short, there is a woman that saves Lilith.  That holds her and gives her hope.  That gives her freedom and heals her heart.  So there I was, crying in that audition room and in walks this woman.  A beautiful older woman with this strong presence, and she looked at me and said "What's wrong, baby?"  I shrugged her off.  "Getting into character," I said and laughed.  And she came over to me and put her hand on my back, and she just started talking to me.  She wanted me to know that when the day is over, I needed to walk away from Lilith.  I needed to release her.  Tell her she can't stay here any longer.  That we did the work, but that's the work. 

And then she talked about pain.  About rape.  About abuse.  She talked about all of these things with such empathy and courage that slowly I felt my heart being patched up.  We did the scene then, and again it was like I was listening to the words I had wrote for the very first time.  And I really tried to listen because those words were my own self telling me that it was okay. 

When it was over, she said something to me which is why I'm writing this post in the first place.  I hope it helps women just like it helped me.  She said when you get home, I want you to do something for me.  I want you to find a place inside yourself.  A physical place she said.  Maybe it's close to your heart or under your ribcage, but I want you to find one.  That place, and it may be tiny, is the place where no one has touched.  It hasn't been abused.  It hasn't been raped.  It's hasn't been invaded.  It's your place, and she said to let it breathe.  To take in a deep breath and fill it up with air.  Let it go, she said. 

And I did.  I looked inside myself and I found that place.  And I don't know if she believes this or not, but I think that place for us, is where the love for ourselves lie.  It's where our soul lies.  And it was tiny and little, but I let it breathe.  I knew it was safe where it was.  I knew it was mine.  I knew no one had hurt it, and no one would ever hurt it, and I let it breathe.  I gave it freedom.

As she was leaving, she looked at me, and she said, "Did you know 1 in 3 women have been sexually assaulted?  And it's sad, but know that you aren't alone." 

And she left.  And I realized that I was talking to another 1 in 3. 

We are everywhere, my friends, and we are learning to heal. 

Mallory, myself, and Lenore are starting this blog because we want to help women.  Discuss womanly issues.  Give our opinions on what's it like to be a female in this society.  We hope that you can find some connection with it.  Maybe get some laughs.  Change your mind on something you once didn't really understand. 

But I hope most importantly, it makes you realize you aren't alone.  We are attempting to make a world better for women, and it might be small, but we are starting here.

Love Always,
Dev

P.S.  My Facebook Messenger is always open for anyone who wants to talk.   Don't hesitate to reach out.