A women in uniforms is attract, so why is a school girl uniforms apart it? do you fap to sailor moon? why is grown women wearing something for a child?

The question can also be asked, why does society allow or even encourage the display of grown women acting as if they have been perpetually trapped as a twelve year old girl.

The answer could come from several arias.

Such as society’s obsession with the stone like permanence of youthful looks. A obsession as old as time.

On the opposite side of the argument one could also point to the consumers of the school girl fetish. A assumption could be made that people who have failed to grow past their teen years and refuse to move to the adult years. Growth is one of the most important things for a persons life. Emotional, intellectual and physical are all different but are equally important, this must be stated because if these developments are ignored ones personality can regress and fail to advance. This can lead a person to idealize their “prime” aka the easiest and happiest time in their life; And so these people idealize and fetishizes the youth and innocents of a school girl.

Inconclusion, we shouldn’t include the uniform of children in sexual fantasies because things of that sort of thing can lead to the danger of immoral sexual fantasies that then can lead to something actually happening to children in real life.

There was always someone trying to tell me who I should be. I should claim my white side more than my Filipina side. I should be this person that they want me to be. Erasing a part of me that existed solely for their approval, because on the outside I didn’t “look the part”. Even though I had all of the qualities, all of the cultural traditions; the only difference was that I was American and not from the island itself. I looked in the mirror, and never accepted parts of me for the sake of having friends. I tried to change the clothes I wore, my entire style and what made me ‘me’, and despite all of the effort, it still was never enough.

When you think of a muslim what comes to your mind first? A modest woman in a hijab? A man with a beard? Sunday school, mosques, exotic foods? Men and Women within a close-knit community, with a conservative look to match their conservative morals?

I have struggled with menstrual pain since I first got my period. When it first began, it was just light cramping, but soon escalated to a stabbing feeling. It is painful to the point where I sometimes cannot move, or have to lay on massagers all day just to keep from taking more medicine before the allotted time is up. My first doctor prescribed estrogen to help, but I had bad reactions and experienced a lot of the side effects. After I communicated this to my doctor, I was told that without estrogen there was nothing else I could do to take away the pain; and that those pills were my only solution. I went to see another doctor because I couldn’t come to terms with being told that nothing could stop the pain I was experiencing.

Growing up, I was taught of the stereotypes against black people, a lot of things were seen as “ghetto” and if I acted a certain way or presented myself a certain way, then I could be seen as the “angry/aggressive black man”, the “scary black man”, the “loud black person” etc. It hurt then me to hear that that is how I can be perceived, because I knew in my heart that was not who I was. And so, I began overcompensating by never wearing certain things, such as durags, never getting cornrows/twists/other protective styles, and even policing how I spoke/walked/acted in general. I would say that at least some of these things have begun to change once I started college. One example is how my relationship with a durag has changed entirely. My mom, to this day, does not like when I wear them outside of the house because she sees them as “ghetto”, and that used to affect my perception of them. But, currently, I do find them nice to wear, for practical and stylistic reasons. Another example is my speech patterns. I am a naturally loud person with a resonant voice that carries to some degree without trying. But when I didn’t want to be seen as the stereotypical “loud black person”, I would either remain relatively quiet, or speak in a small voice that is not only softer, but higher in pitch, so I was also less likely to be seen as aggressive. Nowadays, that type of behavior only happens when I’m meeting new people, or simply surrounded by strangers (hence why I don’t talk much in class, but I’m working on it). But I am glad to say that once I get comfortable around people, I can come out of the mask I made for impression management and just be myself.

Oxford defines the term physicality as follows, “The fact of relating to the body as opposed to the mind” (Lexico, Oxford). While, Merriam-Webster defines the term as, “predominance of the physical orientation usually at the expense of the mental, spiritual, or social” (Merriam-Webster). I’m referencing these terms because they are relevant to how many women and young girls are viewed on a daily basis. To be viewed more often as a body than a mind. The same way that girls are less likely to be called on in math class but more often criticized for appearance. More often to be dress coded then asked to write an answer up on the board in stem classes. This is often a daily struggle that goes unnoticed by many. Often times it is reinforced since birth through the media, pop culture, kids cartoons, music, etc. Some examples, would include over sexualized female characters and only including women with the same body type or skin tone. Not only does this cause body image issues for young girls, but it also reinforces the stereotypical expectations of what a girl or woman should be to young boys. This trend is especially seen in video games, superheroes, and some comics. Some well known over sexualized characters include Lara Croft and Harley Quinn. The following picture shows Margot Robbie and her character Harley Quinn. The link posted under the pic goes on to talk about how other countries even photoshopped the length of her shorts. She talks about how uncomfortable she felt wearing the outfit on set but she did it for her character (Dailymail.com).

TW: Restrictive eating/ED

From the time I could chew my diet was heavily restricted. There were rules for what foods were okay and what foods were not – the latter being a far longer list. My mother had a goal to raise her children on only “nutritious” food. Desserts were for special occasions, vegetables were the focus of every meal, organic only, no GMOs, no processed foods, no refined or added sugars. Even raisin bran was considered unhealthy because the raisins had added sugar; so instead our version of raisin bran consisted of low sugar bran flakes with raisins to be added in separately.

The pressure to eat healthy followed me around everywhere, not just inside the home. At sleepovers with friends when dinners consisted of any “bad” food, I would often go without eating if there was no alternative. As a result of both this disordered relationship with food as well as genetics, I was skinny and it became my identity.

I felt as though my thinness made me more deserving of my mother’s love. She took pride in how willingly I adhered to her strict food rules. When other parents would complain about not being able to get their children to eat vegetables, my mother would boast that they were practically all I ate. My sister on the other hand, had the build of a normal healthy child and received the opposite treatment from my mother. My mom would constantly talk to me behind my sister’s back about how she was concerned on how “chubby” her 6-year-old daughter was getting. She began refusing my sister snacks even on special occasions.

It was through these conversations with my mom that I became even more conscious of my food consumption, terrified that if I were to gain weight, she would treat me like my sister. Eventually, my restriction exceeded that of which was encouraged by my parents. I started skipping breakfast and lunch on the weekdays when they wouldn’t notice. On nights where I was in charge of making my own dinner, I’d go without it as well.

As a dancer, I received so many positive comments on my sickly body. My teachers would compliment me or make comments on how they wish their bodies were as thin as mine. Ballet also gave me a chance to constantly critique my own body, standing in a room covered in mirrors in nothing but a leotard 7 days a week. My classmates would make fun of me for my stick like legs and my protruding ribcage, but by then even the negative remarks fueled the disorder; they were simply affirmation on the one trait I let consume my entire identity.

Throughout all of this, I was so unaware that I was being unhealthily restrictive. I even diagnosed myself with a food addiction because of how often I thought of food and how I was unable to restrict as much as I wanted to. It took major life events and years of separation from my mother for me to realize I was sick and then a couple more years for me to forgive my mom for her influence on the development of my fear of food.

I’m from Seattle, when I was growing up, I wasn’t exactly…popular. I got used to being the outsider, I made a friend or two, but I still felt like I didn’t fit in.

I moved to DC when I was 13, a critical age in development, where change, no matter how much, makes an impact. Not only was I depressed from this move, I was distanced from what I thought were friends and half my family. I experienced culture shock and was mainly isolated from everyone at middle school. I was new, spoke “white”, I dressed funny, I’m heavy-set, and I wasn’t as pretty as most girls at school. I was picked on and due to my depression I lashed out on anyone I could. I apologize to my mother every chance I get.

Moving on to high school, I still felt like I didn’t fit in. I felt different and always in my skin. The only important thing about my high school years is that I found my best friends and I don’t want to lose them. Between the years of high school and the first year of college, I found that all my friends were finding out who they were. Trans*, Bi, Gay, Non-Binary, etc., while I stayed the same person as before. While I’m still stuck in my self-consciousness and fear, they found their courage and found out who they were and where they belong.

Society demands us to know who we are and to live with a purpose set in mind. While I’m completely clueless, everyone finds out who they are, and I’m left wondering…who am I? What’s my purpose? Am I doing life correctly? What should I be doing? Am I really happy? Will I ever experience what my friends do? Will I truly be happy? Is life worth living?

I feel like I can help almost anyone around me find a purpose for them to be happy and to keep pressing forward. But when it comes to me, I really don’t know. When it comes to finding out who I am, I am so afraid to label myself. Whenever I think I find a label good enough, it doesn’t feel right. Am I cis? Am I trans*? Am I really pan? Am I really good at anything? I always second guess myself whenever it comes to anything pertaining to me. I’m afraid and anxious about what I should do and how I should act.

Though I have all of these things I am afraid about, here are some things I am certain about, which help me get through the day. I am 22, I love music, I am a good friend, I have friends and family who love me, and I’m trying my best. That there is some purpose for me in the future, even if I haven’t found it yet. And for right now that feels like enough.

In Summer of 2020, I did my second engineering internship at a very well known defense company. I was grateful to be able to work considering many people I knew had their internships cancelled, but it was also a pretty chaotic time to have an internship (summer class, long commute, COVID-19, and the death of George Floyd). With all this going on, an internship just felt exhausting in so many ways. I had to be in the lab everyday by 6am while commuting from Silver Spring.

I tried to make the best of it but honestly, this internship was pretty miserable for me. I was working with mostly <conservative> white people and they didn’t give me enough work to do. My manager was friendly to me but she wasn’t really present much. I didn’t make a big deal of it since I had other people looking out for me there and I knew she was a brand new manager so I figured she just didn’t know what she was doing yet. I came to realize later though I was not being given the same grace by her.