Witch Hunt

Today is slow.  Odd.  Late buses and broken down engines.  My eyes are puffy.  My fingertips have been replaced by miniature marshmallows.

One of the things I have experienced in my life as a woman-read person is this:

A distrust of others around my own sexuality. My own sexual agency.  Everyone accusing me of fucking or wanting to fuck other people.  As if that is an accusation.  And almost always by people who I am not dating.  They are the ones who accuse.

What is it about a woman-read person's sexuality that is such a threat?  It is, of course, no surprise, that this is why sex workers are demonized:  "How dare they capitalize off of their own bodies and sexuality" is the arrogant and ignorant thinking.

Sex workers are forever perceived as both magical, and a threat.

A fantasy that, afterwards, must be destroyed.  (Emotionally, morally, physically...i.e. murdered.)

We are priests to confess every dark and scared and sacred thing to, yet somehow, we are simultaneously entirely untrustworthy. 

We.

Yes.

We. 

(pause) 

What is it about women-read people who are unapologetic and honest about their sexual desires, their preferences, their relationships - that initiates fascination, violence, and obsession?

What is it about women-read people that demands that a hand other than her own must write over her words? Tell her how she exists.  Tell her that she is wrong in what she is doing.  Tell her that she is lying. Tell her that she is a saint and a savior by the same person who moves to destroy and condemn her.

In general, and without beauty:   Fuck your erasure of self-written narrative.  Fuck your distrust of women who don't buy into state-sanctioned marriage.  Fuck your judgements of greed of women without children. Fuck your suspicion of women who fuck who they want and when they want and why they want and are honest about all of it.  Fuck your scandalized face that you display to any woman who simply lives a life equal to any run-of-the-mill bullshit Jack Kerouac.

Fuck your witch hunt. 

Burn our bodies alive if we don't destroy you first -  but the just venom of what you burn will only return, tenfold.  

Has history taught you nothing?


k.

(photo: Isabelle Dépraz, Possibles, 2015 via Gacougnol Tumblr)