The Curbside Prophet
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.
Holy shit holy shit holy shit Dr Nikki’s colleagues like it OMG I’m dying. I don’t even know what to do. Fangirling over myself a bit right now. Hahaha. #me #lte
Such a cool thing to see.
HOLY SHIT I’M GETTING PUBLISHED OMG OMG OMG OMG
Poster session. We got an A on this project.
The poster reads:
“If you tell anyone, you’ll get in trouble.”
-Age 11. Next door neighbor’s grandson.
“Turn around & pull your pants down. I’ll make you.”
-Age 13. First “friend” at new school.
“We never hang out anymore! I miss you! What happened?!”
-Age 20. From “best friend” at age 13. She told the school we had sex & I was pregnant out of jealousy. High school was living hell.
“But I love you.”
-Age 16-20. On-again, off-again “boyfriend”. It was just for the sex.
“Keep screaming. Nobody’s going to come save you.”
-Age 17. Rapist #1, at the bar where I worked.
“So are we gonna have sex or not?”
-Age 18. Ex-boyfriend, rapist #2, in my 1st year dorm room under pretense of “reconciliation”.
“She was a fucking crazy bitch.”
-Age 18. Ex-boyfriend’s best friend after a confrontation.
“That was good. You love it when I choke you like that.”
-Age 19. Abusive ex-boyfriend, the 1st time we “had sex”. It was rape.
“Sex can look like love if you don’t know what love looks like.” - Rebecca Walker, author
NOW I DO.
—
Photographed in Lewisburg, PA on November 12th.
—
Click here to learn more about Project Unbreakable. (trigger warning)
Facebook, Twitter, submissions, FAQ, donate to Project Unbreakable, join our mailing list
Release their bloody names.
Don’t fucking tell me what to do as if you have any idea what goes on with something like this. And if you’re saying it like that, you clearly don’t.
I tried going public. Know what happened? My university’s public safety department didn’t believe me. They thought I was hysterical and doing it for attention. His parents threatened to sue me for libel and defamation. He started stalking me on and off campus after Public Safety contacted him—against my wishes and without informing me of this, despite the fact that I told them I was concerned for my safety if they contacted him. I clearly had every reason to me. My local PD said to talk to campus PD because it wasn’t their jurisdiction. Campus PD said talk to local PD because it wasn’t their jurisdiction either. Despite both of the departments telling me that “they are very concerned about domestic violence issues” and they will “do whatever they can to assure my safety”, their negligence put me further in harm’s way.
It’s not safe for survivors to release names, as much as I’d love to shout them from the rooftops. If I wasn’t still terrified that the men who have perpetrated awful things against me and are also in possession of lethal weapons and are twice my size & strength (which is a feat) would find me (which isn’t difficult- I’m from a small town attending a small university in that same town) and do something worse, like what almost happened last time I tried to do this, I would.
Tl;dr: Fuck off.
YO BUT DID YOU SEE MY NAILS IN THAT PROJECT UNBREAKABLE PICTURE
pink solid color with a teal ribbon on my ring fingers.
teal ribbon for sexual assault awareness etc.
wheeeee. i had forgotten about that.
blueeyes-auburnhair asked you: random #s: 49, 83, 103, 143
49: Am I excited for anything?
Graduation, moving in with Steven, and Carina’s wedding. In theory, my first real job, but I don’t know when that’s going to happen.
83: Do I have any relatives in jail?
My brother just got out of juvie, if that counts. My aunt’s ex-husband is in jail for domestic violence, and her ex-long term partner has been in and out of prison for child abuse/molestation/etc.
103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?
Nope! I’ve been gluten-free for about a month now (minus the bagel I had a few days ago…) to see if that helps my health issues.
143: Favourite pizza toping?
Cheese. Give me plain, crispy cheese pizza or give me death.
Trigger Warning: Rape, Sexual Assault
The poster reads:
“If you tell anyone, you’ll get in trouble.”
-Age 11. Next door neighbor’s grandson.
“Turn around & pull your pants down. I’ll make you.”
-Age 13. First “friend” at new school.
“We never hang out anymore! I miss you! What happened?!”
-Age 20. From “best friend” at age 13. She told the school we had sex & I was pregnant out of jealousy. High school was living hell.
“But I love you.”
-Age 16-20. On-again, off-again “boyfriend”. It was just for the sex.
“Keep screaming. Nobody’s going to come save you.”
-Age 17. Rapist #1, at the bar where I worked.
“So are we gonna have sex or not?”
-Age 18. Ex-boyfriend, rapist #2, in my 1st year dorm room under pretense of “reconciliation”.
“She was a fucking crazy bitch.”
-Age 18. Ex-boyfriend’s best friend after a confrontation.
“That was good. You love it when I choke you like that.”
-Age 19. Abusive ex-boyfriend, the 1st time we “had sex”. It was rape.
“Sex can look like love if you don’t know what love looks like.” - Rebecca Walker, author
NOW I DO.
—
Photographed in Lewisburg, PA on November 12th.
—
Click here to learn more about Project Unbreakable. (trigger warning)
Facebook, Twitter, submissions, FAQ, donate to Project Unbreakable, join our mailing list
Goddamn I look angry.
I guess I have a reason? I consciously remember trying to not look angry for that picture. #fail
Gluten free cupcakes and homemade buttercream icing.
Two years and seven months after the fire. The house is finally not under construction! (Except for the roof. That seems like it will never be done.)
The last picture is our two cats. McGill, from my nana’s last name (he showed up on our porch in CT the morning my nana died), and Penny, short for Penumbra. I can’t get a closer picture of her cause she’s skittish as hell, but she’s gorgeous and has long hair and is so cute.
