Owning Pink Bloggers

Every time you pass a mirror, smile and see what happens.

sexual abuse

Sheena LaShay's picture

The Least Of These Things - Surviving Vs. Thriving

The Least of These Things ~ Surviving vs Thriving

Do you consider yourself a victim? A survivor? How about a thriver? While the word survivor conveys a positive outcome to a tragedy, upon reading the definitions of the word awhile ago, I realized I wasn’t satisfied with calling myself, a survivor, despite my many tragedies. I insist on the word thriver. How about you?

Jessie Fano's picture

Women, Hold Your Men In The Paterno Fallout

joe paterno

I like to write about sex but lately I’ve been more taken with the gender-related power issues that swirl around sex in our society. Why? Because I think one of the reasons it’s so hard for women to own their sexuality is because of the way sex has been used to keep us out of our power. I’m not going to go into a rant about that here because (a) I’m tired of all that blaming and (b) you’ve heard it all before. But there is a shift in our world going on around men, women, sex, and power and it may be about to hit your father, husband, partner, sons and lots of guys you work with.

Monica Wilcox's picture

Why We Can NEVER Give Sexual Perpetrators the Benefit Of The Doubt


I'm guessing every writer has a topic within them that is suppressed. This would be mine. I’d rather chat about living green, cowboys and pumpkin pie - anything over this. Frankly, I don’t want to write about pedophiles any more than you want to read about them, but, as we have seen with the Catholic Church and now with Penn State, our unwillingness to discuss and understand this issue is ENABLING it to fester.

Jessie Fano's picture

The Haunting of Sexual Abuse


I recently had the opportunity to be alone. By myself. No family. Just me and the house. Wow. What a treat. And then I went to a bar. Ok, I didn't actually go to a bar, I went to a restaurant when it was crowded and they stuck me in the bar for a few minutes until a table opened. But in that time I met a guy who seemed a little tipsy. Under other circumstances I would have thought he was attractive. We'll call him On-the-make Bob, and even though he didn't make a formal pass at me, I felt uneasy with the way he looked at me. I became conscious that I was wearing a low cut top and suddenly felt a little naked. I flashed my wedding ring but he didn't shut up. Other people were at the bar. One woman even seemed to realize Bob was a little creepy and asked about my husband. I was totally safe. Before long I got my table and got away from the guy. He had done and said nothing wrong, but I felt vulnerable for some reason.

Lissa Rankin's picture

How Secrets Make Us Sick

secretsA Pinkie just posted a comment in response to Fred Kraziese’s post God, Angels, Life and Moving On, and it inspired me to write a few words about the secrets that we keep. We learn to keep secrets from the time we’re very young.

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