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Audiobook
First published June 7, 2016
"Despite the preponderance of evidence showing the mental and emotional distress people demonstrate in violent and harassing environments - we still have no name for what happens to women living in a culture that hates them."This is the passage I posted to Litsy, read out loud to my husband, etc.:
"No one wants to listen to our sad stories unless they are smoothed over with a joke or a nice melody...No one wants to hear a woman talking or writing about pain in a way that suggests that it doesn't end. Without a pat solution, silver lining, or happy ending we're just complainers - downers who don't realize how good we actually have it.See what I mean? Good stuff. I'd recommend reading the book just for the first section. But then Valenti goes off to talk about all the relationships she had and all the drugs she did. I think the point she was trying to make was that there was a connection between feeling devalued in society and acting like she herself was worthless, not caring for herself sexually or physically. I struggled with this section because it just felt like a litany of things she did or things that happened, lacking the commentary that I think would have made it stronger.
Men's pain and existential angst are the stuff of myth and legends and narratives that shape everything we do, but women's pain is a backdrop - a plot development to push the story along for the real protagonists. Disrupting that story means we're needy or selfish, or worst of all - man-haters - as if after all men have done to women over the ages the mere act of not liking them for it is most offensive.
A high school teacher once told me that identity is half what we tell ourselves and half what we tell other people about ourselves. But the missing piece he didn’t mention—the piece that holds so much weight, especially in the minds of young women and girls—is the stories that other people tell us about ourselves. (p. 3)Valenti identifies as a feminist, writing a feminist blog, speaking around the country as a feminist. Being a feminist isn't enough to protect us – from others or ourselves.
And I cannot believe that so long after I first experienced a man making it clear that his desires trump my comfort, I still accept it. (p. 130)I often didn't recognize myself in Valenti's experience. While I felt desired and struggled with saying No to boys and men who wanted to date me (as a teen, I didn't want to hurt their feelings), while I frequently got whistles and catcalls while walking down the street, I only once had a man expose himself to me. Thankfully. Valenti appeared to have received dozens of such. I never had a male teacher come on to me.