The Curbside Prophet

My name is Alyssa Mae.

I am a mid-twenties avid intersectional feminist, advocate, fighter, counselor, and friend. I will be graduating from Bucknell University in May with degrees in Psychology and Women’s & Gender Studies. I work with survivors of sexual assault and other trauma, and I fix computers for a living.

I often blog about what it is like to live at the intersections of a few different mental illnesses, queerness, and sexuality, along with posts about sexism, racism, rape culture, and LGBT rights. There is a trigger warning for these on my entire blog. You will see posts about depression, eating disorders, PTSD, panic disorder, and fat activism. This has been my safe space for four years now, and I reserve the right to ask you to leave it if necessary.

Welcome to my life.





Recent Tweets @mizzlyssamae
30 plays
Alyssa,
Audible Poetry

an ode to stretch marks (and other alien life forms)

Written by Katherine L., read by lyssamae


like rivers running down the

banks of my breasts

the intimate corners of my thighs

like the zebra’s stripes I so

ardently admired in my youth

each one signifying one more

moment one more breath one more

evidence of puberty’s biting wit

in making me a Woman before I ever

saw one in myself

(before others saw within

me the Woman I would

grow to be)

which leads me to my current incarnation

these rivers carved within my tissue

run deep and ragged and long,

some faint streams others oceans in themselves

each one ushering in a new me

as I learned what a Woman was

Supposed to be—

quiet demure a thing of beauty

an Object to cherish while it retains its luster

oiled and

plucked and

inherently somehow bettered

no longer a body but a showcase

a trophy for its owner and her owner—and a

woman is nothing but an

advertisement for some skin care line

minivan shopping mall plastic surgeon

white bread peanut butter

all-american

lifestyle

what they sell you in a woman is a lifestyle

values traits and physicality hand

picked for your enjoyment

never challenging you

sharpening you

only agreeing with you

until you lose your essence too

that’s what they sell you in a woman—

which leads me to my current incarnation

these rivers carved within my tissue

carve within my heart a new

yearning a new

lust for learning

a new

way of life to combat that

which seeks to make

my sex into profit

my sex into a commodity

bought and sold for pennies

those who seek to tell me

my stretch marks

aren’t a think of beauty

they are in fact a problem

here, you poor young thing

here, let me fix that for you

and fifteen serums

seven diets

four permanents

two layers of nail lacquer

and one eternity later

I am no longer a Woman

only a Doll

some window display for the

faint of heart whose conditioning means they

cannot understand or

maybe just cannot handle

what it means to love

a Woman and I

I am all 

Woman

in this body I breathe deeply

I feel deeply

I am, deeply

passionately, unequivocally, unrestrainedly, unabashedly

Woman

I am

without apology or philosophy or

theology or prophecy defining me,

without chronology or history or

any other -ology interrupting the flow of 

me, a girl of nearly eighteen

darked eyed and beautiful in all my

stretched and marked

glory, in all my purple-red

magnificence

purple is the color of royalty, you know

and I am the Queen of

my soul and my body—

heart and flesh and sinew—

ever follicle freckle scar

every cell

and its infinite capacity for

warmth richness vibrancy

all twisted into a cacophonous symphony

of all that comprises the

Woman

in me.

Written by the wonderful and talented Katherine L. (acting-appalled)!! (via stophatingyourbody)