I look out upon the world men have made - their legislatures, courts, churches, schools, art, architecture, their politics, their economics - and I don’t see anything I would have done as they have done it. Not one single sing. Their system does not reflect me at all, neither my mode of being in the world nor my world view; rather, it is inimical to all I love, all I desire, all I am. Its every aspect pains me to look at, to think about; it hurts me on all levels of my life; it is not my home.

    Sonia Johnson, Wildfire: Igniting the She/Volution”

    We understand the Goddess as an all-encompassing Flow/Origin of all life. We see males and females united in the Mother who can create the same as her (daughters) and the different from her (sons). She is the Tree of Life. Hence in her eyes all living creatures partake of her divine essence. She is the beginning and she is the end. Beyond Mother Nature there is more nature. She is everlasting and self created. Circle within the circle, her symbol is the spiral like our DNA, all is from her and all returns to her in the end. In other words, we agree with the new scientist who see the universe as a huge recycling entity, everything we see out there is also within us, we are made of the same stuff as the stars. We are the children of the stars, rare, complex and beautiful…the Goddess is all women – without exception. She is one mighty force, all-inclusive, all-mother.

    Z Budapest (via mistixs)

    “She must write herself, because, when the time comes for her liberation, it is the invention of a new, insurgent writing that will allow her to put the breaks and indispensable changes into effect in her history.”

    The Feminist Reader: Essays in Gender, and the Politics of Literary Criticism; edited by Catherine Belsey and Jane Moore

    “What woman has not stolen? Who has not dreamed, savored, or done the thing that jams sociality? Who has not dropped a few red herrings, mocked her way around the separating bar, inscribed what makes a difference with her body, punched holes in the system of couples and positions, and with a transgression, screwed up whatever is successive, chain-linked, the fence of circumfusion?”

    The Feminist Reader: Essays in Gender, and the Politics of Literary Criticism; edited by Catherine Belsey and Jane Moore

    Archaeological, mythological and historical evidence all reveal that the female religion, far from naturally fading away, was the victim of centuries of continual persecution and suppression by the advocates of the newer religions which held male deities as supreme. And from these new religions came the creation myth of Adam and Eve and the tale of the loss of Paradise.

    Merlin Stone, When God Was a Woman
    (via she-initiates)

    Men are inferior. They project their inferiority onto women, then back up the lie with threats of physical might. Physical might is scary and is worth respecting, but for them it is a tool to exert their agenda on women. Women need to get out of every situation like that, get away from those men, and have no further contact with them. Whenever I am no longer in their ‘web,’ I can think clearly (because there are no physical threats present) and realize that they were just projecting their own inferiority on to me, and that I am not inferior to them; it is in fact they who are inferior to me.

    I don’t go around thinking that men are inferior. They prove it to me every day, to my disappointment. If they were equal, I would be relieved, because then they wouldn’t try to flip reality to give themselves a momentary, but insignificant, advantage.

    (via randomstabbing)

    Before I became radicalised as a man-hating, separatist feminzai hell-bent on installing a matriarchy and imprisoning men as its slaves, I possessed a nominal amount of internalised misogyny. Women were bitchy and mean. They cared about irrelevant rubbish and talked in loud, shrill voices. Their laughter was annoying and tinny, and they did it performatively and too often. Women were boring and dumb, especially if they were pretty and nice.

    Were I born a few years later, I’ve no doubt that I could have easily fallen into the horrifying hole that is Women Against Feminism. Being down on other girls was a gesture to reassure all the boys around me that while I may have looked vaguely like a girl on the outside, I wasn’t really like a girl-girl. 

    Like so many girls caught in this trap, it wasn’t enough for me to be considered an intellectual and social equal by men (because really, that’s what a lot of this scrabbling for their approval comes back to—the misplaced desire to achieve equality for ourselves by being welcomed into the inner sanctum rather than to destroy the sanctum and redefine the dynamic entirely); I also had to climb a tower made of the discarded and disdained bodies of other women in order to prove myself worthy to enter.

    Because I was born a girl, I was taught to fundamentally distrust other women. Whether it arises as bullying, cruelty, or viciously-applied sexism, girls are separated from each other (and from organising into a bloc of power) by being encouraged to view each other as competition for male approval.

    Clementine Ford, Fight Like A Girl (via rad-seraph)