I Get Discussed in Forums

[Trigger warning.]

So, this is what happens:

1. Some dude, somewhere on the internetz, finds Shakesville.

2. He reads enough to discern that it's a feminist space run by a fat woman who fairly regularly and unapologetically engages in the transgressive acts of being anti-rape and posting pictures of her fat self online, flipping the bird or wearing a hat or whatever.

3. He posts a link and my picture, with some explanatory text like, "This fat bitch is an ugly feminist who runs the stupidist blog ever."

4. The forum commences to post Photoshopped variations of my picture, with "dick into my mouth" and "my face on Jabba the Hutt's body" being popular motifs. They also make lots of rape jokes and call me a dyke.

From a currently ongoing discussion, the link to which one of its participants was kind enough to email me under the auspices that he was just some random guy who happened to stumble across the forum and is TOTES UPSET that it's going on (lol!):
lol this cunt is full of herself (literally too since she is a tubbo)

shakespeares sister is cool blog title tho. shes also ugly.

If she cleaned up her diet and hit a treadmill, all of a sudden a guy might ask her out, and all of her rage would melt away.

If you can look at her without wanting to punch her in the face, you're not looking hard enough

funny how everyone that writes about shit like the stuff in this blog is always an obese uggo. you never see any hot chicks complaining about rape (even though they would most likely be in the prime rapey demographic). No one wants to rape this chick. I guess she is just hoping someone will get pissed enough at all her feminist shit and revenge rape her. damn i bet she fantasizes about that everyday.

that that bitch is anti boner spray personified. id have to rape her with 3 Popsicle sticks taped to my flaccid wang
Et cetera.

This stuff is designed to dehumanize me, to scare me, to upset me, to deter me, to silence me. It does not work.

I've been reading it now for five years. I process it by putting it through a meat grinder, turning it into a juicy sausage, and eating it NOM NOM NOM. I process it by letting it be my sustenance. My belly is filled with this fuel, reminder after reminder after tired-ass reminder about why I'm doing what I'm doing.

Maybe that's why I'm so damn fat.

Oh, the irony!

I share this mess for this reason: Every day, feminist women—some of them fat, some of them survivors of sexual assault—start blogs. This is what they will face. Because of that, every day, feminist women close blogs.

I will never, ever, argue that women (or men) should tolerate abuse to keep blogging. All of us must do what we need to keep ourselves safe, first and foremost. Always do what is best for you, and if that means locking the door on an internet space and throwing away the key, do it and don't regret it and don't feel weak. Taking care of yourself is evidence of strength, and no one should tell you otherwise.

This, then, is for the people who frequently email me and ask how: How do you do it? How can I do it? I want to find a way to withstand it. What should I do? How can I survive? How can I process?

And the answer is: I don't know. I don't know what you should do. But here is what I do: I put it through a meat grinder, I turn it into a juicy sausage, and I eat it NOM NOM NOM!

Sometimes it gives me some serious heartburn, that.

But there is always, eventually, relief.



My eternal and profound thanks to the people who help me process, especially Iain, Spudsy, and Deeks.

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