greek-god-of-hair said: I came out of the closet when I was 16. It happened in a heated argument with my father, whom I look up to more than anyone. We had argued over money, he told me very harshly, "you don't have to put food in the table for five people and a roof over their heads!". Never to be outdone, I remember screaming, "Well, you trying being gay!". I immediately clapped my hands over my mouth in horror. My father stopped and began to cry. The only words I made out while he hugged me hard were I love you.
Send your coming out stories here!
But women can never be careful enough, can we? If we take naked pictures of ourselves, we’re asking for it. If someone can manage to hack into our accounts, we’re asking for it. If we’re not wearing anti-rape nail polish, we’re asking for it. If we don’t take self-defence classes, we’re asking for it. If we get drunk, we’re asking for it. If our skirts are too short, we’re asking for it. If we pass out at a party, we’re asking for it. If we are not hyper-vigilant every single fucking second of every single fucking day, we are asking for it. Even when we are hyper-vigilant, we’re still asking for it. The fact that we exist is asking for it.
This is what rape culture looks like.
This is what misogyny looks like."