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When young women are sexually assaulted, we question their pasts and critique their clothing choices, yet rarely ask their attackers to simply be accountable for having no self-control, and no respect for the humanity of the girls they’ve violated.

When middle school girls post half–naked photos of themselves on Instagram, we vilify and ostracize them as cheap and easy, while ignoring the dozens of young men who mindlessly vote their approval each time, who feed the insecurity, and who perpetuate each degrading act with the click of a mouse.

When high school girls get jobs at chain restaurants, which require them to expose their body parts to strangers over trays of nachos, we bemoan their lack of humility and class, yet never question the thousands of men who fill these eateries every day; many with daughters the same age as the ones they ogle.

When women embarrassingly writhe on poles for a few sweaty dollar bills, in dimly lit bars ironically called “Gentlemen’s Clubs”, we heap insults and judgement on them, yet let the many married men who pay both the dancers and the mortgage each month, come and go without blemish or critique.

Sooner or later, we need to stop letting boys be boys, and we need to challenge them to be men.

Sooner or later, we need to pull them out of their perpetual adolescence and into adulthood, and ask them to evenly carry the weight of sexual standards.

Sooner or later, we need to show our young men that the they can actually raise the moral temperature in sexual situations, not reflect them.

- John Pavlovitz, The Blurred Lines of Real Manhood (Robin Thicke, I’m Looking In Your Direction) [x]  (via toxick)

(Source: alittlepieceofsullivan, via monsteridliketofeed)

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Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love.

I still cannot understand how he could abandon me so unceremoniously, without any sort of goodbye, without looking back even once. That pain is like an axe that chops at my heart.
-Yann Martel, Life of Pi (via observando)

(via audreyeevans)

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