(Anti) Feminism, part 3 – The Phenomenon of the ‘Pick-Me’

 

 

Ah yes. We have reached the end of this angry rant with my favourite topic.

Not least because I am, by the standards of Twitter’s feminists, a big fat, giant, massive pick-me.

I don’t believe pick-me exists in the Oxford dictionary, but by and large it refers to a woman who doesn’t hate men (and vice-versa, but I can only speak from the perspective of a straight woman).

You defend men, believe they have feelings and should be looked after the way women are? Pick me! You want to look after your man; you want to show him love, cook for him, and do nice things for him? Absolutely a pick me, disgusting! For shame! You like men for their personality and their character, rather than their money, clothes, possessions etc? Ew, I hope he picks you sis. You don’t want all men to die? On God, we gon’ get someone to pick you.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? That’s because it is.

The only anti-pick-me narrative I agree with is that of a woman actively bashing other women for the approval of men. Being snide, bitchy, and unnecessarily rude just to get a few laughs out of men; laughing when a man hurts a woman who has done nothing wrong; supporting an abuser just because you think he’s sexy. Purposely putting other women down and trying to make yourself look better. That’s a real ‘please pick me, I’m different to the other basic bitches. I’m so much cooler and better than them, please pick me, they’re all ugly ogres and I’m so different to the rest; you’ll never find another girl like me, I promise you that. You’ll be thinking about me when you’re with her lol I’m so different, I leave a mark on people.’

But obviously, people have watered this down to suit their own agenda, and now pick-me generally refers to a woman who apparently does and says things as a mating call, because we obviously don’t have our own brains, and everything we do in life is solely in the quest to attain male approval. Which is very telling for the people who use the phrase. What a phenomenon.

I want to dissect it and destroy it.

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Four things I’ve learnt this decade

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Every time you try to forget who I am, I’ll be right there to remind you again

 

I know. And yes I did mean this decade. And yes I am here again, a mere week after my last post. It’s pissing down outside, which makes it a fine day to rant.

We’re only halfway through February, we’ve barely grazed the new decade, and I feel like I’ve been hit in the face with a million lessons and gained another five years of life experience. I’m just hoping it doesn’t show on my face, so I’m frantically blurting it out onto a new post in the hope that it doesn’t settle into my fine lines.

Lesson number one, typing on a MacBook with long ass nails does not a good idea make.

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Panic attack


Everything’s fine.

It’s sudden. It doesn’t happen gradually, it’s nothing and then it’s all encompassing. It’s zero, then it’s a billion, you’re breathing and then you’re choking.

But you do feel it creeping, that familiar feeling that you had forgotten about. It’s bubbling somewhere beneath the surface, and as soon as you realise, all of your senses switch off in a joint effort to combat it. You can’t hear anything around you, you can’t hear anyone talking to you because you’re using all your energy just begging for that feeling to go away before it erupts and forces you to experience it again. People around you will scream at you because you’re not listening to them but it’s because you’re too busy trying to fight it off before it comes.

But of  course, life never happens the way we want it to and suddenly you can’t breathe.
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Does Love define us?

Off balance, I need some fixing

‘If you give me a glimmer of hope, you’re in trouble. I take it to the moon.’ – Mike Tyson

Somebody anonymously sent me a message… unfortunately I can’t respond to what anybody sends me on the contact page and I don’t know who it was (I wish I did), but thank you. Ima hope you’re reading this now so this post is for you. I’m glad you asked the question, and thank you for your v nice words. I didn’t answer it before but here we go.

So

Does love define us?

Initially, I would have said no. I wish I could say no. I would have said that it’s impossible and unfair to say that love makes us who we are, because what about people who never feel anything close to love? Are they just yet to be defined as an individual? Have you not lived until you’ve loved? Have I even felt love to be talking about it so confidently? In that respect, I can’t say it defines us. Until we actually feel it. I guess we just don’t know that we’re all walking around as blank canvases until someone comes and splashes red all over it.

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Ridiculous things I've heard this Ramadan

Except this time, they’re from Muslims.

We’re halfway through Ramadan and I can’t tell whether it’s going really fast or really slow. It’s harder, I cannot lie. I am but a shell of myself, a zombie going into work with shit skin and minimal words. I see everything 3 seconds after it actually happens.

I think I wrote something last year-ish about questions I’ve heard during Ramadan in general. I’ve grown up since then. I’m older, wiser, angrier. Very impatient. I have no time for ignorance and stupid people, and the more time I spend on twitter, watching the influx of 17-21 year olds spew their bullshit, I’m seeing more ridiculous opinions and lack of education. Lack of self-awareness. Lack of consideration. Kids these days really look for any reason to be offended – it’s like they enjoy the idea of being oppressed, they get a kick out of being controversial for no reason. I feel like an old angry lady waving her stick around at the children outside for being too loud. But in my old age and wisdom, I’ve also learnt to be much more tolerant. I know, it sounds so ironic given my impatience. But I’m more forgiving, less judgemental; I adopt more of a ‘let people be’ stance. So let people be. Except people who stay stupid things.
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Everything she do is for the media

Unpopular opinion: personality matters more than looks

Unpopular opinion: murder is bad

Unpopular opinion: water is wet

Sorry, just highlighting all the unpopular opinions I’ve seen just to emphasise that what I’m about to bitch about is… apparently an actual unpopular opinion.

Contrary to the beliefs of countless people I’ve had the misfortune of reading about, what you show online is, in fact, a reflection of you.

Of course it fucking is. What you write online, what you post online, what you do online is all you. Of your self, of your behaviour, of your way of thinking, or, if you’re faking it, of your mental age. Particularly in an era where the internet has such a central role in our lives; we are literally the age of the internet… we are the age of meme. We are more ourselves online than we are in real life. We spend so much time on our computers and phones that we’ve been cultivating our online persona, consequently allowing the personality  within our real, material, flesh prisons to remain stagnant. No wonder we all have anxiety now and can only communicate in (obsolete) vine references.
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