Glittered Or Not, I Won't Grab A Woman's Body

Glittered Or Not, I Won't Grab A Woman's Body

"Instinct-driven animal" or not, touching a woman's body without her consent is not ok.
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Just about two weeks ago, I engaged a fine, upstanding gentleman on Twitter in an example of just about everything wrong with victim-blaming rhetoric. His argument-initiating tweet a response to an event at a music festival on New Year’s Eve, an event in which a topless woman was captured on film being grabbed by an unknown man.

The event, Rhythm and Vines, is a multi-day music festival, during which attendees listen to bands and celebrate the turn of the year in a progressively free-spirited fashion. The fashion embraced by the assaulted woman was a variation of toplessness often referred to as “glitter tits,” a decorating of bare breasts with glitter and adhesive jewels.

Some common opinions of the fashion believe the fashion’s intent is to draw attention. The Twitter use I mention in this article’s opening is of that mindset, albeit a more vitriolic and sexist variety. Featured below is his opening tweet regarding the inappropriately touched young woman:

The Twitter user accuses the woman, Madeline Anello-Kitzmiller, of advertising, the admonishes her (or no one in particular, really) to not “complain when a customer comes by,” a despicable comment comparing the groping offender to a customer, presumably thinking he just wanted to sample the goods on display.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a highly sexual person as well, and I have reactions to the sight of an attractive woman. However, I’m fully capable of not conceding to any base-animal instincts.

Hell, I was around a dozen naked women a year ago, quite naked myself, in an artistic event which involved close, physical contact. I did not touch them without their consent. I certainly didn’t just snap my hand out to cop a feel of a bare breast.

Maybe it’s because the women around me weren’t teasing or tempting me. The victim-blaming twitter user would probably argue differently of my body-painted comrades. Speaking of the topless Anellow-Kitzmiller, he cited her for multiple things. Take a gander at the tweet below:

Anellow-Kitzmiller, he says, took a risk with the real world by intentionally tempting and teasing in her proximity. And since it was so obviously her intention, she should be held culpable for her actions.

Come to think about it, I think that the woman in my yoga class the other night, the one whose butt I touched because it looked finer than two Christmas hams on a platter, should be held accountable, too. I mean, seriously, I just couldn’t resist her showing off the goods in those tight yoga pants!

Let’s be real. I didn’t really touch anyone. There was a handful of attractive ladies in that yoga class, but I didn’t touch them. Why didn’t I touch them? Maybe the reason is that I’m not some knuckle-dragging animal whose instincts are ruled by his reproductive appendage!


Besides, I was dying. When the downward facing dog is kicking your arse so thoroughly that the sweat is burning your eyes with righteous anger, I tend not to think of anything other than my own yogic suffering. Touching someone else was, I assure you, the furthest thing from my mind.

Of course, the guy’s not letting up. He’s even willing to believe that “no one should expect everyone to be able" to control their instincts. He’s right, in a manner of speaking. I don’t expect animals to control their instincts.

If you read this tweet in the right (or wrong) frame of mind, it’s almost like he’s legitimizing rape. Legitimizing might be the wrong word, but his tweet has a very rapey vibe, doesn’t it? I mean, he’s arguing to “hold HER responsible for HER behavior,” which is a classic example of redirecting blame to the victim.

Come to think about, that girl I thought of assaulting way back when I’d like to give her a piece of my mind. She should have known I have a Chuck Taylor fetish and she even smelled of Warm Vanilla Sugar (from Bath & Body Works). Think that would be a viable defense in court? Sure as hell hope not because then you’d be like this guy.

And still, he carries on without ever placing blame where it belongs, on the guy who grabbed the bedazzled breast. Other Twitter users and I tried to get him to understand that maybe she just wanted to be comfortable. Maybe she wanted to celebrate her right to be topless wherever a man can also be topless. Maybe she did want to provoke someone into touching her, to start a fire, if you will, but it still doesn’t give a man to march up to some random woman and touch her.

I sometimes find my body betraying me. My own physiology reacts to visual stimuli, and carnal desire takes root. I’ll admit that I even experience “want.” I want something, but rather than acting out on my urges, I keep my hands to myself. I realize that without an invitation, without consent, the only course of action available to me is to keep my hands to myself. I am not an animal, after all.

Cover Image Credit: YouTube (iO Trends)

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This Is How Your Same-Sex Marriage Affects Me As A Catholic Woman

I hear you over there, Bible Bob.
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It won't.

Wait, what?

I promise you did read that right. Not what you were expecting me to say, right? Who another person decides to marry will never in any way affect my own marriage whatsoever. Unless they try to marry the person that I want to, then we might have a few problems.

As a kid, I was raised, baptized, and confirmed into an old school Irish Catholic church in the middle of a small, midwestern town.

Not exactly a place that most people would consider to be very liberal or open-minded. Despite this I was taught to love and accept others as a child, to not cast judgment because the only person fit to judge was God. I learned this from my Grandpa, a man whose love of others was only rivaled by his love of sweets and spoiling his grandkids.

While I learned this at an early age, not everyone else in my hometown — or even within my own church — seemed to get the memo. When same-sex marriage was finally legalized country-wide, I cried tears of joy for some of my closest friends who happen to be members of the LGBTQ community.

I was happy while others I knew were disgusted and even enraged.

"That's not what it says in the bible! Marriage is between a man and a woman!"

"God made Adam and Eve for a reason! Man shall not lie with another man as he would a woman!"

"Homosexuality is a sin! It's bad enough that they're all going to hell, now we're letting them marry?"

Alright, Bible Bob, we get it, you don't agree with same-sex relationships. Honestly, that's not the issue. One of our civil liberties as United States citizens is the freedom of religion. If you believe your religion doesn't support homosexuality that's OK.

What isn't OK is thinking that your religious beliefs should dictate others lives.

What isn't OK is using your religion or your beliefs to take away rights from those who chose to live their life differently than you.

Some members of my church are still convinced that their marriage now means less because people are free to marry whoever they want to. Honestly, I wish I was kidding. Tell me again, Brenda how exactly do Steve and Jason's marriage affect yours and Tom's?

It doesn't. Really, it doesn't affect you at all.

Unless Tom suddenly starts having an affair with Steve their marriage has zero effect on you. You never know Brenda, you and Jason might become best friends by the end of the divorce. (And in that case, Brenda and Tom both need to go to church considering the bible also teaches against adultery and divorce.)

I'll say it one more time for the people in the back: same-sex marriage does not affect you even if you or your religion does not support it. If you don't agree with same-sex marriage then do not marry someone of the same sex. Really, it's a simple concept.

It amazes me that I still actually have to discuss this with some people in 2017. And it amazes me that people use God as a reason to hinder the lives of others.

As a proud young Catholic woman, I wholeheartedly support the LGBTQ community with my entire being.

My God taught me to not hold hate so close to my heart. He told me not to judge and to accept others with open arms. My God taught me to love and I hope yours teaches you the same.

Disclaimer - This article in no way is meant to be an insult to the Bible or religion or the LGBTQ community.

Cover Image Credit: Sushiesque / Flickr

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Dear Senator Walsh, I Can't Wait For The Day That A Nurse Saves Your Life

And I hope you know that when it is your time, you will receive the best care. You will receive respect and a smile. You will receive empathy and compassion because that's what we do and that is why we are the most trusted profession.

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Dear Senator Walsh,

I can't even fathom how many letters you've read like this in the past 72 hours. You've insulted one of the largest, strongest and most emotion-filled professions.. you're bound to get a lot of feedback. And as nurses, we're taught that when something makes us mad, to let that anger fuel us to make a difference and that's what we're doing.

I am not even a nurse. I'm just a nursing student. I have been around and I've seen my fair share of sore legs and clinical days where you don't even use the bathroom, but I am still not even a nurse yet. Three years in, though, and I feel as if I've given my entire life and heart to this profession. My heart absolutely breaks for the men and women who are real nurses as they had to wake up the next morning after hearing your comments, put on their scrubs and prepare for a 12-hour day (during which I promise you, they didn't play one card game).

I have spent the last three years of my life surrounded by nurses. I'm around them more than I'm around my own family, seriously. I have watched nurses pass more medications than you probably know exist. They know the side effects, dosages and complications like the back of their hand. I have watched them weep at the bedside of dying patients and cry as they deliver new lives into this world. I have watched them hang IV's, give bed baths, and spoon-feed patients who can't do it themselves. I've watched them find mistakes of doctors and literally save patient's lives. I have watched them run, and teach, and smile, and hug and care... oh boy, have I seen the compassion that exudes from every nurse that I've encountered. I've watched them during their long shifts. I've seen them forfeit their own breaks and lunches. I've seen them break and wonder what it's all for... but I've also seen them around their patients and remember why they do what they do. You know what I've never once seen them do? Play cards.

The best thing about our profession, Senator, is that we are forgiving. The internet might be blown up with pictures mocking your comments, but at the end of the day, we still would treat you with the same respect that we would give to anyone. That's what makes our profession so amazing. We would drop anything, for anyone, anytime, no matter what.

You did insult us. It does hurt to hear those comments because from the first day of nursing school we are reminded how the world has zero idea what we do every day. We get insulted and disrespected and little recognition for everything we do sometimes. But you know what? We still do it.

When it's your time, Senator, I promise that the nurse taking care of you will remember your comments. They'll remember the way they felt the day you publicly said that nurses "probably do get breaks. They probably play cards for a considerable amount of the day." The jokes will stop and it'll eventually die down, but we will still remember.

And I hope you know that when it is your time, you will receive the best care. You will receive respect and a smile. You will receive empathy and compassion because that's what we do and that is why we are the most trusted profession.

Please just remember that we cannot properly take care of people if we aren't even taken care of ourselves.

I sincerely pray that someday you learn all that nurses do and please know that during our breaks, we are chugging coffee, eating some sort of lunch, and re-tying our shoes... not playing cards.

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