“Wine. Immediately.” The depressing reason so many modern women drink. 

“Well, maybe because even cool chicks are still women. And there’s no easy way to be a woman, because, as you may have noticed, there’s no acceptable way to be a woman. And if there’s no acceptable way to be the thing you are, then maybe you drink a little. Or a lot.”

Open Letter: Me, myself and binge drinking

As part of an ongoing series, Yahoo Canada is profiling personal experiences in open letters. Our first entry speaks of a young woman’s struggle with binge drinking.

As told to Kathryn Kyte

I can still remember the very first time I had a sip. 

It was amongst my group of girl friends while we all sat huddled in a basement after hunting for whatever alcohol was available. It so happened to be beer and gin. I’m not sure if others feel similar, but many girls I have talked about this with has said “you always remember that first drinking experience, kind of like you remember your first time,” and for me this rang very true. 

One of my friends had mentioned she heard from a doctor that you were an alcoholic if you consumed more than two drinks a week – in high school, by that definition, we were all hard alcoholics. But, that didn’t phase me and it wasn’t until university and the years following that I realized my drinking was actually out of control. 

I never threw up at a bar and that was a big feat since most of my friends would have a break in the night when the bathroom became their puke release. There was always that one friend you knew would push the limits and most of the time we’d take turns holding her hair back while she threw up, or listening to her sob –it was always one or the other, sometimes both. 

What I realized as I pushed into my 20s was that when we were all in high school we knew the guys we were partying with. We knew where they lived, how they acted at school. We knew that we’d see them after the weekend. But now we were riding this life of new dudes every night and not knowing much other than what they looked like in dim lights. 

They’d order drinks, which feels like an invitation to get to know you more. But really, it’s often more about how little of work (and expense) they can put in to get the chick of the moment feeling trusting enough that they can bang her. I say this with feedback from my guy friends, who have never been shy to tell me hard realities, or how “easy” it can be to lock in a girl.

ALSO SEE: How one night of drinking can kill you

On one night during my mid-20s, after taking in probably four tequila shots and God knows how many vodka sodas, I found myself in this club’s bathroom during Fashion Week. I was clutching the toilet and my feet were dangled into the other stall, I just couldn’t stop spinning. Each gag was burning me. My hands were so weak. Somehow I managed to sip water and then got a second wind. I sucked back more drinks and the world around me checked out. Everything was slow motion and full of smug smiles, shuddering lights, loud noises…painfully loud noises.

I pushed through the dancefloor and soon enough was with some guy, couldn’t tell you his name, couldn’t even place anything about his looks other than the OKs I got from my friends. He was having an afterparty and although I could barely stand up, I wanted the night to keep going, and soon enough me and a couple of my friends were in his car, while he swerved down the street. How we didn’t get pulled over I have no idea, but I blacked out until we got to the house. 

Then things got really out of control. I can’t remember how it started but it was almost like I was immediately on a bed in a dark room, with my clothes freely coming off. I could barely change in front of people, but something about the booze made feel sexually awakened (more like impaired). During this frantic strip fest, he gave me some vodka so I sipped it back in between us tossing around. I faded in and out, I’d feel myself kissing then I’d just go numb, and when I woke up naked I was so confused, and so sore. I knew something had happened and could see red marks all over my legs. My tights were brutally ripped. I felt worthless. 

I lunged out of the bed in desperate need to find my friends who were thankfully still there. Before I could figure out what was happening, the guy said “OK, you really have to go now.” He was super cold, and looked completely different than what I had thought he looked like the night before. He stared at me with disappointment.

ALSO SEE: Are you an alcoholic? It’s not as obvious as you might think

I wanted to ask him what happened, just get some closure, but I was too afraid he’d yell at me. It’s an awful feeling not being able to ask someone what happened with your body hours before. All I knew is I needed to pretend I didn’t care and get a cab. I felt tears choking through my throat and I felt like I had been ripped open, in every way. I grabbed what was left of my tights, threw on my underwear, dress, boots and kept my head down as we all left. He didn’t even say bye – he laid in his bed until we were gone. 

We sat in the cab not speaking and I tried to recap what I could remember, which was basically nothing. I felt disgusting. All I could think about was if something serious could happen from this. Did he wear a condom? Did we have sex? Why am I so sore? What should I do? I got Plan B. I didn’t know anything for certain, but I was in no means in a mental place to think about it. 

Weeks later my friends asked me about that night and I shrugged it off while we were prepping for another night of partying. I instantly shuddered when they asked – then the shots helped me forget. My drinking wasn’t about getting socially drunk, I had to get wasted, I needed to. After that night my drinking got worse. I became the drunk girl that sobbed, I became the girl that had moments of rage, the girl that couldn’t walk. I learned nothing and felt more insecure than ever. 

I had become the girl I always hated, and I still feel her inside of me today. It’s almost like I need to be resocialized because binge drinking is just part of me now. I feel out of control; I can’t go out without taking things too far. I don’t like myself at all when I’m drinking and I can’t remember the last night I went out without going home blackout drunk. And I only have myself to blame.

Have a story you’d like to share? Reach out to us by tweeting or direct messaging @YahooStyleCA.

Affect Of Alcohol On Women In Excess

It is often quoted that females have a lower tolerance to alcohol than males and this is an indisputable fact but few people ever go on to tell exactly what the affect is and why. Hopefully this article will help shed light on exactly what happens when you drink alcohol and why you often do things that you regret later. Also give some insight into what alcohol actually does to the brain. This is not an anti alcohol article, it is presented in the hope tha…

Keep reading

What’s a girl to do when a bunch of dudes have just told her, in front of an audience, that she’s wrong about what it’s like to be herself? I could talk to them, one by one, and tell them how it felt. I could tell the panel organizers this is why you never have just one of us up there. I could buy myself a superhero costume and devote the rest of my life to vengeance on mansplainers everywhere.

Instead, I round up some girlfriends and we spend hundreds of dollars in a hipster bar, drinking rye Manhattans and eating tapas and talking about the latest crappy, non-gender-blind things that have happened to us in meetings and on business trips and at performance review time. They toast me for taking one for the team. And when we are good and numb we Uber home, thinking Look at all we’ve earned! That bar with the twinkly lights. That miniature food. This chauffeured black car. We are tough enough to put up with being ignored and interrupted and underestimated every day and laugh it off together. We’ve made it. This is the good life. Nothing needs to change.

ok so the go-to when making jokes about country songs is dogs and trucks, but I would actually like songs about dogs and trucks

judging by the radio where I work, country music is mostly:

-my girl’s leaving me because of my poor life choices
-cringey sexual innuendo
-I work on a farm and this attracts women
-alcohol is the BEST coping mechanism
-the South is great
-(woman singer) the South kinda sucks actually
-my ex is the Devil

anonymous asked:

how is the spinster movement terf theory?

“the spinster movement” didnt exist as Ace tumblr thinks of it. It was a group of Christian women who wanted to eradicate alcohol, porn, and prostitution, by means of strategically withholding sex. They were known as the Social Purity movement, and were lionized by Sheila Jeffreys, a TERF, in one of her essays The Spinster and Her Enemies. Jeffreys termed them “the spinster movement,” and she is the only one to dub them as such. In the “historical post” which autismserenity made, they link directly to Sheila Jeffreys’ work. So yeah, “the spinster movement” is a term pulled directly from TERF discourses.

I was tagged by @peterquince !

Rules: Tag 10 people you want to get to know better

Countries I’ve lived in: united states

Favorite Fandoms: shakespeare, history

Languages you speak: english, spanish (limited)

Favorite film of 2015: mad max: fury road

Last article you read: one about how misogyny and affluent women’s alcohol abuse may be related in practice, if not in a study

Shuffle your song library and put the first three titles here:

Philomena- The Decemberists

Cherry Wine- Hozier

Grown Woman- Beyonce

Last person you dreamed of: ….aly raisman (DRAG ME)

Any recurring dream(s): vampires killing me, making out with kristen stewart, being naked in public

Any phobias or fears: i’m not good with heights or doctors

How would your friends describe you: independent, strong, loyal, funny

How would your enemies describe you: talkative, stubborn, unreliable

Would you take a bullet for someone: for my sister or brother, sure

If you had money to spare, what would you buy first: an apartment in prague 

I tag: @alisonbechdell, @stiefiel, @mercurygray, @maryadimitryevna, @princehalsdaddyissues, @challahfax, @adeleblaircassiedanser, @andreibolkansky, @alyssaannfrank, @aprohdites !!!

So Medium published a piece by an alcoholic in recovery talking about how women are having alcohol shoved at them to dull their reactions to violent misogyny and patriarchy (link here). And tbh while I don’t agree with all of her points or the way she presents them, I think overall it’s a pretty good article.

But the point of this post is holy shit, this is an excellent litmus test for seeing which of my friends have had exposure to addiction, specifically alcoholism, and which ones haven’t. And, tbh, which ones are addicts in denial about it.
(One responded with a long, LONG screed about how there’s no problem with drinking every single day to relieve stress, and then immediately posted a selfie with an alcoholic beverage and a snide comment directed toward the author of the Medium piece. Like…oh boy.)