So many young women had sex with men before they were ready because of this reaction.
Raise your daughters to say go to hell with your no sex , no physical touch tantrums.
Yuck, even thinking about the pressure many had to go through:
- ahh come on babes you know how much I like you
-rah I thought you were grown , you’re big girl
-I got needs, I don’t want to cheat but…
- or the angry aggressive reactions
Yall think this is funny but it’s truly sad. A man could literally be dying and still have enough energy to sexually assault a woman trying to save his life.
He really prepared himself to lose with a smile on his face. His momma grabbed his hand🥹 the look on his face when they said his name. Man. So happy for him.
My coworker used to take the long way home every night. Two extra bus stops, more walking, more money, more time. One day I asked her why she didn’t just take the shortcut alley behind our building.
She laughed and said, “Oh, because a guy followed me there once and told me he could ‘do whatever he wanted’ and no one would hear me scream.”
So now, every night, she calls a male friend and pretends she’s on the phone with her “boyfriend.” Sometimes she even laughs loudly and says things like, “Yeah, I’ll see you in five minutes, babe,” even when she’s completely alone.
Not because she wants attention.
Not because she’s dramatic.
Because sounding “taken” and “protected” is safer than sounding like a woman by herself.
Men cannot even begin to understand the calculations women make every day just to get home alive.
more girls become teenage parents than boys each year at a rate of around 4:1. at first i didn't understand how more girls could become teen parents than boys. then i read the research and it's because most teen girls become pregnant by adult men, not by other teen boys.
She broke the bones of Black babies simply because they were Black there isn’t a word for this level of evil. When she goes to jail I hope 10 Black aunties find her for 10 minutes 🤷🏾♀️
I put my wedding dress on Facebook Marketplace for $50. It cost me $1,200 twenty years ago. But after the divorce, just looking at it in the closet made my chest hurt. I just wanted it gone. A girl messaged me. "Can I come try it on? I don't have $50 yet, but I get paid Friday." She showed up in a beat-up Civic. She couldn’t have been older than 22. No ring. No excitement. Just tired. She put the dress on in my guest room. When she came out, she wasn't smiling. She was staring at herself in the mirror, trembling. "Do you love him?" I asked. She looked at me, tears spilling over. "I do. But we can't afford a wedding. We’re doing it at the courthouse. I just wanted to feel pretty for one hour." She started to unzip it. "I'll bring the money Friday." "Stop," I said. I went to my jewelry box. I pulled out the veil I never wore because it was 'too much.' "The dress is free," I said. She froze. "What? No, I can't—" "It's not free," I corrected myself. " The price is that you have to send me a picture of you smiling on your wedding day. Because this dress hasn't seen a smile in ten years, and it needs one." She fell into my arms. She got married yesterday. She sent the photo. She looked beautiful. And for the first time in a decade, I looked at that dress and didn't feel pain. I felt hope.
Anonymous