After my PIV rant, I was informed by many a lovely commenter that I need to see theRapist because I have symptoms of PTSD. One even informed me confidently that I could find theRapist in my area that agrees with my “worldview.”
A counselor with my worldview will help me build a womyn’s corner of Gaia, replete with a powerful force field to keep men out. We’d spend our tell-all appointments dishing about how unnatural intercourse is, how we are groomed from birth to accept it as our destiny as women, and how misogynist it is that a woman who does not want a man to put his dick in her is considered psychologically unwell.
What if a man doesn’t want another man to put his dick in him?
Should we send him to theRapist to get cured of his disorder?
Unbeknownst to those who commented, they proved my point. Because I am a human being without a penis, I am a human being born to receive penises between her legs, so the assumption goes, and if I get a notion, even for a fraction of a second, that I don’t want to be the theatrical puppet playing the role set out for me in a script written by men, then all fingers point to my obvious malfunction as a human. Which means of course as a woman, too, because there can be no concept of my being human without it being constantly reattached to my reproductive organs and the meaning patriarchal culture places on possessors of vaginas.
And theRapist is supposed to work me through my aversion to being penetrated, right? My dislike of males should be cured, right? So a woman is born to like males, to fuck males. Because she has a hole, right? No escaping this, right? We’re branded from birth, born to be fucked. We have around 50% of the population born to be fucked whether we like it or not. Why even call us women? Why not rename us “the fucked” and get on with it? At least don’t gaslight me, bro.
Sisters, don’t say any of this too loudly. Someone might notice there is something wrong here. And we can’t have that.
objects