I would like to take a minute to go back to January last year and remind you of the girl that walked into your life. A girl with confidence, happiness and self belief who found joy in the world around her. And I want you to look at me now. I am unrecognisable even to myself. I look in the mirror and all I see looking back at me is a broken and shattered shell of a woman who has lost every scrap of her soul to your lies and manipulations. I thought recently that things would be different and we could finally be friends but once again you've turned around and kicked me out in the cold, slamming the door in my face.
What did I ever do to deserve this treatment from you? I have only ever cared about and loved you but all you have ever thought about is yourself. Our 'relationship' in...
You Bastard!
Dear America,
What if Josh Duggar is guilty? It seems like a silly question when Josh Duggar himself is publicly admitting guilt, no?
What if his guilt or innocence is not the question? What if the real question at hand is: "Was justice done at the time of the incident?"
What if the following two things are true? Firstly, what if parents of young children everywhere, and people who disagree with the lifestyle of the Duggars, and people who think the Tea Party is a bunch of hogwash (to put it lightly), and people who think the Family Research Council is a roadblock to freedom would all tell you that Justice was NOT done? Secondly, what if people who support the lifestyle of the Duggars, and people support people like Glenn Beck and the Blaze, and support Ted Cruz would tell you...
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Quite frankly, you've all pissed me off and I think your all a bunch of sexist pigs to summarise the content of this letter. If anyone who this is directed at does actually come across this then congratulations, I am surprised you can remove your hand from your penis long enough to pick up your laptop.
The fact that you have gone behind my back to my partner to tell them, and I quote "I couldn't look at her face all night" summarises the kind of people you all are. And I couldn't be more thankful that you have made this clear to me. The fact that you believe that as a woman, I cannot wear what I want also shows you must have been brought up in the 18th century or have grown up on a farm with a bunch of other pigs, just like yourselves. I believe that as a woman, I have become successful...
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On Valentines' Day, I was walking on campus with a friend when a complete stranger approached us and said, "I'm going up to girls that I find sexually attractive and asking them for their phone numbers."
He turned to me and said, "Sorry if this is painful for you."
My response:
DID ANYONE ASK FOR YOUR OPINION?
So, on that note, this one is for you, sir. I've spent ostensibly precious time in my busy day as a part-time student, full-time Netflix binger, to deliver you a letter on why your "clever" scheme didn't work.
Here goes.
No, I was not offended that you did not find me attractive, because my value is not determined by how attractive you find me. You do not get to decide what offends me -- I decide my own value.
After that experience I got to thinking about other...
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You remind me of my Mum. You didn't used to but now it's clear.The truth was always warped into YOUR version of events. Somehow everything is always my fault or if it isn't possible to convey things like that, if it isn't easy enough to tell a believable lie, then it is just completely denied. Made out to have never happened. And like in the case of my Mum, I stay quiet and maybe try to "please" you. But whatever I do will never be enough. And right now I couldn't care less because now I'm just angry.
Yes,like in the case of my Mum, I've done stupid or hurtful things to you and to others. As is natural. I have had a big mouth and have blurted out things that I shouldn't have. But a lot of the time, the damage and hurt I have caused wasn't done maliciously. And usually if I do happen...
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Although I would love to address this letter to you, doing so would cause more problems that I simply cannot handle and so I hope that instead this letter finds you anonymously perhaps through our mutual friends on social media and for once you understand the crushing effect your actions have had.
I would like to ask you some questions. Do you ever sit at night and cry into your pillow, sobbing into the early hours of the morning and then mask the dark circle under your eyes, splashing water on your face so you can tell you housemates you just had “a rough night’s sleep."? Have you ever gone for a run at 6 in the morning because you can't sleep and broken down in the middle of a field when the song "how to save a life" plays on your iPod? Have you ever spent hours debating whether you...
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Stupid bitch! What do you want from me?
I've communicated to someone close to you, few days after your crappy monologue, that I no longer consider you a source of help. So what are you still pestering me for? You know what they say about road to hell is paved with good intentions.
As long as you remain a sexist pig and promote and support a sexist campaign, I will never accept help from you even if God personally comes to me and tells me to accept it. I rather die than accept help from you in such a situation.
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Thank You For Sexually Harassing Me.
For it shows me what real men look like. They look like the men I am surrounded by. They look like the security guard of my apartment building – the one who waits until I am safely inside the elevator before he goes into his little room. They look like my teachers and peons from school – the men who would wait until the very last girl had gotten home in one piece. They look like the boyfriend who waits for me to let him know I am safe in bed after a night out. They look like my brother, my father, and my friends. The men who treat me like I should be treated.
But some ‘men’ are unlike any of these.
To the elderly taxi driver who couldn’t tear his eyes away from my cleavage while he drove me around the city. You look like you could be my...
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You have no idea how many times you have stolen pieces of me. You may actually have a good count on what you've done, but you hide it behind that sweet smile and those “I promise” words that roll off of your lips like candy coated cocaine.
We met on a beautiful day with a beautiful backdrop of water and trees…something out of the movies. Even over all of the beauty surrounding us, I knew deep inside that you weren't someone I wanted. For the first time in my life, I ignored my gut instinct because I convinced myself I was just being overly cautious.
You took the time to let me know you had an interest, and then spoke those sugary cocaine words that made me delusional enough to think I would end up falling in love with you.
You put my first on every occasion to make me feel secure,...
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Dear Other Woman,
Hi, we’ve never met, but it appears we have something in common… or, rather, someone. Yeah, you know, the guy I’m MARRIED to. You see, a couple of days ago I was checking our phone bill, and your number was there… a LOT. Like over 1000 texts. Phone calls, some of them pretty long. I’m not so naive to think that two platonic friends would be in such frequent contact, so don’t try and play dumb.
Anyway, I’m not actually writing to bash you, or call you names, or anything like that. I’m writing to warn you. You see, I’ve literally been in your shoes. Did you know I’m not his first wife? That he was married when we met online and began getting to know each other? He told me they were getting a divorce, that the marriage was over, although they still lived in the same...
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