I’ve mentioned some of my previous trials and experiences, but there’s one that I hold extremely close to me. I feel like I shouldn’t, because there are so many people that experience similar situations like this, and they need to be addressed because it is not okay. Yes, I let it happen for a short period of time, but at the same time, some girls are just like that.
Before entering college, I thought that frat guys would be the biggest assholes and I would not want anything to do with them. I went back and forth between if I was going to rush or not and if I wanted to make that financial decision whenever I wasn’t in a good place financially. I made the decision not to summer or winter rush ever, and sometimes I still kick myself in the ass for it and other times I don’t. My freshman/sophomore year of college, however, I decided my fate for frat boys was a lot different than what I thought.
Everyone has their first love, or what they think is their first love, at some point in their life and mine just so happened to start in high school. He ultimately decided that he was going to go to a different college after he got back from basic training, and it kind of broke my heart, but it was something that I had to live with. We were back and forth with each other all the time, and I didn’t know how to feel about it. When he went to college second semester, which would’ve been his first semester, he decided to join a fraternity. My first semester of college concluded of mourning over a dumbass ex that I used to try and get over my feelings for my first love, going home nearly every weekend (there were other reasons behind that as well) and ultimately writing letters to my first love. Around October 2012, I discovered Tinder and it helped aide my experiences with frat boys, and my first love decided that he was going to join a fraternity in January 2013.
My first encounter with “this type” of person was quite interesting. He invited me to a day party to which I ultimately said no because I wasn’t about to succumb myself to the depths that were the fraternity he was in. We ended up going on dates, hooking up, and he was ultimately my first college boyfriend. It was interesting, to say the least, and I’ll forever remember the experiences and the memories that we shared, but at the same time I won’t. I wrote a post yesterday about not being good enough to be invited to formal. This asshole is the one that the encounter happened with. Even though we had only started “dating” a month or two before his formal, he took someone else and there were pictures, oh boy were there pictures. She got extremely pissed off because I was texting him all night and it was a blast.
I can’t make every encounter with the man negative, however. He opened up my life to plethoras of new people. I met some of the most amazing people that I probably would’ve never met any other way, and I am eternally grateful for this. I can, however, make the type of person he was to be negative.
He and I had a rocky ending, and at the time I was making friends with other people in various other fraternities. I was dating, or so I thought I was dating, the so-called “frat daddy” of one fraternity. I didn’t realize this until he kept asking me for favors or his pledge class. My roommate at the time kept telling me that I was being considered their “sweetheart’ and I should feel proud about it, because apparently being a fraternities “sweetheart” is most sorority girls—and just girls in general—goal. I just kept with the flow because everyone around me thought that it was okay. I definitely should not have listened to them.
Around the middle of September, initiation for this particular fraternity was going on. Since I was “in” with the “fratdaddy” and he was asking me for various favors, this was a major part of what I did at this period of time. (Side note: I did “favors” for him because if I didn’t, he’d make me seem like a terrible person and that i did him wrong, and it upset me thinking that I was hurting them — yeah, I am a dumbass.) I was called to do the stupidest of things such as “take this group of guys here, pick us up from *here* at *this time*, and finally, “entertain this freshman because he *needs* it.” The last one was the one that I was not okay with, and why I ended it after the first time that it happened. This first—and only— experience scarred me for life, and has kind of made me a bit hesitant against men in general, but specifically those frat guys that are really into their fraternity.
I was told to pick up this freshman pledge from the house because he was about to be kicked out and he “needed to be happy before this happened.” This made my skin crawl, yes, because I wasn’t sure what i was expected to do. I asked said “fratdaddy”—let’s call him Bob* because that term is getting annoying. I asked Bob what I was supposed to do, and he told me to take him back to my place of residence and just chill with him until he called him and told him his ultimate fate. I agreed and I still don’t know why.
I picked up said freshman, and he didn’t talk to me the entire way. We get to my place of residence, and it’s terribly awkward. We start watching TV because there’s not much to do in my house as I’m not a very interesting person and I hadn’t really been home since this had become a major part of my life. This man starts trying to make out with me, and I started getting kind of weirded out—even more than I already had been. I kind of pushed him away and got myself a drink as this was going to be an interesting night, and Bob was not replying to the texts that I was sending him.
I sat back down on the couch and proceeded to stare at my phone while the man next to me—let’s call him John*— began to unzip his pants, and grab my hands. I tried to pull away and asked John what he was doing. (Keep in mind, John is a lot larger than I, and obviously a lot stronger than I.) He told me, for lack of better words, that “this is how this worked. This is what was supposed to happen because otherwise what else was the point of me picking him up and bringing him here.”
UM WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!
I immediately began trying to call Bob while John proceeded to jack himself off in front of me (and no, I’m not fucking kidding.) I tried to distance myself enough away from him and was rather fearful as to what his next step was. Bob didn’t answer my phone calls, and John decided it’d be a good idea to finish all over the carpet and on my feet. I was ultimately disgusted, so I just had to wipe it off and told him that we were leaving and I was bringing him back home, regardless that Bob hadn’t called him or not.
Bob calls him on my way of bringing John back to the fraternity house and ultimately tells him his fate that he’ll get a meeting instead of just ultimately getting kicked out—but I knew that he was already getting kicked out. He repeated over and over again “thank you so much pledge master,” and I wanted to punch him in the fucking face. I get to said fraternity house and there are so many people outside, mostly Bob’s friends, but not Bob himself. It took all that I had to not park my car and go to find Bob and punch him in the face, but he was probably with his actual sweetheart that wasn’t nearly being sexually molested by a member of his pledge class.
After this encounter with John, I ended things with Bob. I basically told him that he can fuck himself because nobody deserves to be treated like that, and that is kind of fucked up, and then blocked his number. I thought I took the most appropriate response to it, and I haven’t seen Bob or John to this day *THANK YOU HIGHER POWERS*. I honestly hope I never will because Bob won’t have a penis anymore.
The purpose of this isn’t to talk trash on frat guys because I’ve met some amazing frat guys. I’ve met some of the nicest individuals that will be the only ones to help you, even if there are several other peers around, and I am ultimately grateful that there are people like that out there. So I’m not talking trash on frat guys.
Who I am talking trash on, are those pieces of shit that think that they can treat you like a piece of meat and treat you like a play toy. If you think you’re some fraternity’s sweetheart, make sure they’re baking you fucking cookies and doing everything for YOU, not the other way around. If it’s the other way around, show yourself out of that situation, because you don’t want to end up being in a situation that could have turned even worse, and the person that you THOUGHT was a good person, didn’t give two fucks about you in reality.
Protect YOURSELF because YOU are important and YOUR safety is way more important than some guy. If that guy really card about you, he wouldn’t put you in any sort of situation against your will like that, and yes you are strong enough to say no. You are strong enough to walk away from that asshole, and I wish I would have realized that before this happened.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Friday, April 17, 2015
What I learned about children & makeup
As I’ve mentioned before, I work at a daycare. “Out of the mouths of babes” is something that we commonly use because let’s be honest: little kids say the damnedest things. Yesterday, however, was different. I totally didn’t expect something to come out of a child’s mouth, nor did I expect it to not only piss me off, but give me some hope of the future.
The daycare that I work at has ages 2-6. Six because some little boy was developmentally behind due to some hospitalizations, and two because apparently they’re being ballsy and letting in children who just turned two a couple of days prior. I am usually in the class (because it’s separated by classes) that is 2-3, and there are a couple of 4 year olds. The 5 year olds that have a 6 year old in their class are a bit different. They’re different because they’re (obviously) so much more mature than the little kids that I’m used to, and I’m only around them for an hour or so if they end up showing up in the afternoon.
Usually I come straight from class or don’t really care about my appearance when I go to work. I work at a daycare, for christsakes, I’m not going to show up wearing glamorized clothing every single day. I have worn jeans there twice because I just can’t move around in the pairs of jeans that I have like I would like to. Usually I show up in leggings or something of the sort, and whether or not I “put myself together” just really depends on how I’m feeling that morning.
Yesterday, we were outside on the playground, though. This little girl that I rarely talk to (because I hardly ever see her) came up to me and told me that I’m beautiful every day, but only from “this point to this point” as she pointed out to places on her body. She pointed to everywhere but her face, and at first I thought that she was talking about my size since I’m not the tiniest person in the world. Then I had to think to myself, though, because most little children will never comment on your size if they actually know what they’re talking about. Especially if their parents are embarrassed easily, are bigger themselves, or are just correct parents. I say this because one of my nephews has a bastard of a dad who likes to poke fun at the fact that my sister is a bigger woman. He tells my nephew that “he doesn’t want him to be fat” and “his girlfriends aren’t fat” (*SPOILER ALERT* his girlfriends aren’t fat because they’re on drugs and have 6 kids that they don’t have custody of because they were born with cocaine in their system. bUT ANYWAY.) My point is that I’ve never had a small child comment on anyone’s weight (at least when I’m around) except for my nephew whose dad is a bastard.
Moving on. I was trying to process what this little girl was saying. Finally she spits out “makeup doesn’t make you pretty.” The look on my face was that I was kind of astonished, mostly because a five year old is telling me that I don’t need makeup to be pretty. I sincerely appreciate these parents for teaching this to their children, because I feel that most individuals aren’t teaching this to their children and are teaching them that they need makeup to be pretty and they need to do this to be society’s version of “pretty.” I sincerely appreciate those parents who aren’t teaching this to their children because they’re going to grow up to be something someday. They’re not going to grow up being the little bastards that my nephew has grown up to be (right now he’s only 8, but it’s getting worse as time goes on) and they’re going to be those polite children that tell you you’re beautiful, and telling you the things that you want to hear.
What I tried to explain to this little girl, however, is something that she didn’t understand. While I fully believe that “makeup doesn’t make you pretty,” there are other things that do, which is what this little girl fully showed, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make.
Some people feel extremely uncomfortable if they’re not wearing makeup. I used to go to a counselor and she informed me that some people that were married, their husbands had never seen them without makeup because they would get up and just keep putting it on, and never really take it off.
I started wearing makeup when I was maybe 13/14. I didn’t wear a whole lot of makeup, but my mom finally decided to let me start wearing makeup because I would break out so much. I washed my face, but my face never seemed to agree with the fact that I didn’t want to break out so much. I only wore Clinique foundation and powder (because that’s what my mom wore) and maybe some eyeliner and mascara. Any time I wouldn’t wear makeup to school (or eye makeup rather) I would get asked “why do you look tired, are you sad, are you mad?” I thought these were just hits at me not wearing makeup for the day, but lord only knows what they were. In high school, I wore makeup more regularly with some days that I wouldn’t. Senior year I got stressed out enough with working two jobs, taking college classes along with my high school ones, and having an emotionally abusing boyfriend that demanded I be at his beck and call any time he needed. One of my friends, who I had had a relationship with in the past and was the first person I fell in love with, told me that he would like me if I “tried more.” He told me that I didn’t put myself together enough for him to like, and that he didn’t know how I could go out into public like that.
I ignored that hit at me because he was a douche bag. Freshman year of college, a whole new world came to me. I discovered YouTube, more specifically the beauty side of YouTube. I really don’t remember how, at this point, but I did, and I started spending a wide variety of money on makeup. I became a platinum member at ULTA within three months, and I just thought I was rolling high. I became a YouTube Partner, and enjoyed the different types of looks I could do from using makeup. Even though I’ve probably spend $5,000 on makeup in my entire life, I use every single bit of the makeup that I have, or I bless someone else with it. It’s the right thing to do. I also have extremely oily skin, which is why I broke out a lot in high school. I’ve finally found a regimen that works for me (that involves not washing my face very much because it’s very sensitive. Therefore, if I don’t wear makeup, I start to breakout. If I don’t wear anything on my face, my face will build up to be this entire grease ball and be a breeding ground for acne. i’ll wear makeup most days, but there are several days that I won’t—just not in a row because I’d rather not be a breeding ground.
What this little girl didn’t understand, and what I hope her parents eventually teach her, is that people have hobbies. I firmly believe that makeup is a hobby, and I hope that some parents eventually teach their kids that. I also hope that they don’t teach their kids to sort of slut-shame people that DO wear makeup. I appreciate parents teaching their children that you don’t need makeup to think you’re pretty, but they need to be taught just that; not, if someone weasr makeup, they’re automatically thinking as not thinking you’re pretty & need makeup and need to be told so.
The daycare that I work at has ages 2-6. Six because some little boy was developmentally behind due to some hospitalizations, and two because apparently they’re being ballsy and letting in children who just turned two a couple of days prior. I am usually in the class (because it’s separated by classes) that is 2-3, and there are a couple of 4 year olds. The 5 year olds that have a 6 year old in their class are a bit different. They’re different because they’re (obviously) so much more mature than the little kids that I’m used to, and I’m only around them for an hour or so if they end up showing up in the afternoon.
Usually I come straight from class or don’t really care about my appearance when I go to work. I work at a daycare, for christsakes, I’m not going to show up wearing glamorized clothing every single day. I have worn jeans there twice because I just can’t move around in the pairs of jeans that I have like I would like to. Usually I show up in leggings or something of the sort, and whether or not I “put myself together” just really depends on how I’m feeling that morning.
Yesterday, we were outside on the playground, though. This little girl that I rarely talk to (because I hardly ever see her) came up to me and told me that I’m beautiful every day, but only from “this point to this point” as she pointed out to places on her body. She pointed to everywhere but her face, and at first I thought that she was talking about my size since I’m not the tiniest person in the world. Then I had to think to myself, though, because most little children will never comment on your size if they actually know what they’re talking about. Especially if their parents are embarrassed easily, are bigger themselves, or are just correct parents. I say this because one of my nephews has a bastard of a dad who likes to poke fun at the fact that my sister is a bigger woman. He tells my nephew that “he doesn’t want him to be fat” and “his girlfriends aren’t fat” (*SPOILER ALERT* his girlfriends aren’t fat because they’re on drugs and have 6 kids that they don’t have custody of because they were born with cocaine in their system. bUT ANYWAY.) My point is that I’ve never had a small child comment on anyone’s weight (at least when I’m around) except for my nephew whose dad is a bastard.
Moving on. I was trying to process what this little girl was saying. Finally she spits out “makeup doesn’t make you pretty.” The look on my face was that I was kind of astonished, mostly because a five year old is telling me that I don’t need makeup to be pretty. I sincerely appreciate these parents for teaching this to their children, because I feel that most individuals aren’t teaching this to their children and are teaching them that they need makeup to be pretty and they need to do this to be society’s version of “pretty.” I sincerely appreciate those parents who aren’t teaching this to their children because they’re going to grow up to be something someday. They’re not going to grow up being the little bastards that my nephew has grown up to be (right now he’s only 8, but it’s getting worse as time goes on) and they’re going to be those polite children that tell you you’re beautiful, and telling you the things that you want to hear.
What I tried to explain to this little girl, however, is something that she didn’t understand. While I fully believe that “makeup doesn’t make you pretty,” there are other things that do, which is what this little girl fully showed, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make.
Some people feel extremely uncomfortable if they’re not wearing makeup. I used to go to a counselor and she informed me that some people that were married, their husbands had never seen them without makeup because they would get up and just keep putting it on, and never really take it off.
I started wearing makeup when I was maybe 13/14. I didn’t wear a whole lot of makeup, but my mom finally decided to let me start wearing makeup because I would break out so much. I washed my face, but my face never seemed to agree with the fact that I didn’t want to break out so much. I only wore Clinique foundation and powder (because that’s what my mom wore) and maybe some eyeliner and mascara. Any time I wouldn’t wear makeup to school (or eye makeup rather) I would get asked “why do you look tired, are you sad, are you mad?” I thought these were just hits at me not wearing makeup for the day, but lord only knows what they were. In high school, I wore makeup more regularly with some days that I wouldn’t. Senior year I got stressed out enough with working two jobs, taking college classes along with my high school ones, and having an emotionally abusing boyfriend that demanded I be at his beck and call any time he needed. One of my friends, who I had had a relationship with in the past and was the first person I fell in love with, told me that he would like me if I “tried more.” He told me that I didn’t put myself together enough for him to like, and that he didn’t know how I could go out into public like that.
I ignored that hit at me because he was a douche bag. Freshman year of college, a whole new world came to me. I discovered YouTube, more specifically the beauty side of YouTube. I really don’t remember how, at this point, but I did, and I started spending a wide variety of money on makeup. I became a platinum member at ULTA within three months, and I just thought I was rolling high. I became a YouTube Partner, and enjoyed the different types of looks I could do from using makeup. Even though I’ve probably spend $5,000 on makeup in my entire life, I use every single bit of the makeup that I have, or I bless someone else with it. It’s the right thing to do. I also have extremely oily skin, which is why I broke out a lot in high school. I’ve finally found a regimen that works for me (that involves not washing my face very much because it’s very sensitive. Therefore, if I don’t wear makeup, I start to breakout. If I don’t wear anything on my face, my face will build up to be this entire grease ball and be a breeding ground for acne. i’ll wear makeup most days, but there are several days that I won’t—just not in a row because I’d rather not be a breeding ground.
What this little girl didn’t understand, and what I hope her parents eventually teach her, is that people have hobbies. I firmly believe that makeup is a hobby, and I hope that some parents eventually teach their kids that. I also hope that they don’t teach their kids to sort of slut-shame people that DO wear makeup. I appreciate parents teaching their children that you don’t need makeup to think you’re pretty, but they need to be taught just that; not, if someone weasr makeup, they’re automatically thinking as not thinking you’re pretty & need makeup and need to be told so.
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