We had an “identity circle” with the girls last week. I can’t shake it. One girl said, “Come into the circle if you’ve been raped or touched.” That was a big deal, and it remained a big deal as seven other girls and both facilitators met her there. There are 11 of us total. 10 of us had been raped or molested. Only 2 of us are over age 14.
Later, one of the girls said, “Come into the circle if you’re a virgin.” All of the girls except two entered the circle. The girls were shocked that one of them revealed herself to not be a virgin. “I was 7, you guys!” Another girl told her, “Don’t worry, that doesn’t count.” The now-virgin stepped into the circle.
And of course, I want to save them. Like I wanted someone to save me. Their parents are on drugs just like mine. Some of them are living without homes. A couple in foster care. They are constantly in transition, some of them with huge gaps in their schooling and others being passed around to family friends. I want to cry with them, I want to say, “Me too.” But I am old enough to be their mother, each one of them.
These girls are geniuses. The girl who cries in front of her friends, she’s a badass. The tough girl who wraps her arms around her crying classmate and says “No Homo” after she says “I love you” deserves love and a chance to be weak.
My co-facilitator and I went in and saw that more than anything, those girls need each other. Before last week, none of them trusted the others. This time, they were touching and promising to always listen. And now that they have each other, I can get some sleep.
**When I tried to tag this post with “teens,” the first two suggestions that came up were “hot teens” and “webcam teens.” All but one of my girls said they wished people would remember that they are only 12, 13, 14. They blame the unwanted sexual attention from men on themselves for “looking old,” but really, they are being fetishized for being teen girls. Thank you, Tumblr, for pointing that out.
Remember that wherever you are, there is a decent chance a closeted sex worker or former sex worker is listening, possibly even someone who has done survival sex work or someone who has been trafficked. You’re about to speak to them about their own experiences, probably at a very basic theoretical level. How much do you really need to look like a huge asshole?
When I have less than $5 in my wallet and no incoming money for 30 more days, I like to sit and eat things like “noodles and sauce” in front of my computer while I read Facebook posts about how bad it is to eat anything that I can afford. My favorite words to read: “Eat real food.”
So, is it better to buy the cheap crispy kale that tastes like plastic and chemicals due to being packaged in a bag at a processing plant, or the organic soggy kale covered in slime and holes from bugs and critters that will make about a 1/4 cup worth of steamed kale slime? They are both $2.50 and I’m always so torn.
I accept food donations year round but nobody ever seems to want to donate!
Apparently there is a group of men on the internet who call masturbation “fapping.” A subset of these men believe that masturbation interferes with their abilities to feel their feelings. These men are called “fapstronauts,” and they encourage one another, online, to keep going for “the superpowers.” We aren’t sure what those are yet.
Every pen is filled with poison ink. Every movie is a series of camera tricks. Every city loses me in the end.
Today there was broken glass and something like a fight. There were robotic movements and feet of ice. I made a decision and who knows where it will go. I cried more than twice. Somebody cute made me smile. I dyed my hair dirty-nickel. I smiled at myself in the mirror while I did it because I wanted another cute girl to make me smile. I will end the night with Louise Erdrich and a head of silver snakes. I will end the night remembering my mother in sequined pasties. She called them Tit Caps and they sparkled under the disco ball that hung above the rack. Sometimes I was allowed into places I shouldn’t have been. Sometimes I can leave places I shouldn’t have gone. I will end the night with thoughts like, “Maybe I will get gay-married someday.” I will end the night with, “Maybe one day I will get it right.”