裸子
裸子

See you when the moon rises.

Formal Diary|Desire next to the word “female”

A while ago, when I was looking at the calendar on my phone, I always felt that I had forgotten something very important. It wasn’t until late yesterday (April 28), when I clicked on the essay solicitation activity of @囧素言Her again, that I remembered that I What I forgot was the anniversary of Lin Yihan’s death. This year marks the sixth anniversary.

The beginning of the essay writing activity reads: On April 23, many writers died and were born.

I'm curious, do most people commemorate the death anniversary of a certain writer like me?

At the same time, I was also thinking, is it a "good" thing to forget this day that is of great significance to me? The good here does not mean the kind of good that is praised by others, but when running, even though the brain feels that it is almost unbearable, the arms continue to swing and the thighs still move forward.

In mid-April 2021, in order to participate in the " Tree Hole No. 38 " sexual assault/sexual harassment real-life story letter exhibition initiated by Zheng Jiachun and the cannabis parade organized by Green Wave , it was a rare trip north.

That day was the last day of the "Tree Hole No. 38" exhibition, and the waiting line was extremely long. When it was my turn to enter the exhibition, I didn't rush to find my letters; even though my feet in boots hurt, I still wanted to I have to read more letters within the limited time; in the evening, after listening to Fang Huizhen mention her impression of Lin Yihan in the closing lecture, on the way back to the Youth Hostel, I sent a message to my friend Say, I suddenly want to buy flowers and give them to others.

And this idea soon found someone to project it on.

Late at night, after I took a shower, put on my slightly damp hair, and climbed into the upper bunk bed, I turned on my mobile phone, downloaded and registered my first Taobao account, and started searching for and contacting online florists. . On this side of the Taiwan Strait, I looked at the seller who addressed me as "dear" on the screen and asked if there was a handwritten card service. He replied yes. I started to draft it.

The recipient was a Chinese netizen I met on Tinder. The reason why I swiped right on him at that time was because his profile said Lin Yihan, and he was the first heterosexual man to admit to me that he had almost raped someone (his first girlfriend). At the same time, he was also the first I have tried to fully describe the subject of sexual harassment/assault.

I still remember that the title of the file was "Brother"; at the end of the article, I compared myself to a merry-go-round, and the person riding on me showed childish joy invariably on his face.

Well, but, in fact, Lin Yihan is not the first female writer that comes to my mind. Even when I faced the essay topic "Seeing Women", my brain temporarily went into a state of panic. At this moment, I even began to be confused. Do certain words have to be written by women to be meaningful? Why?

A few days ago, I was stuck in the labyrinth of " Crocodile Street " and " The Noonday Demon " for a while. When I just checked the underlined records on the e-book again, I found that even though the author is not a woman, as a reader, I am still reading it. The process of "seeing women" is going on. To be more precise, it may be - seeing how the world sees women.

for example:

she said, and her lips pursed and became small at the same time, and I felt that she was pleasing me, as a woman pleases a man.

Patriarchal oppressors often prefer depressed women and do not view female depression as a symptom. Women who take ownership are the most likely to acknowledge, name and treat their depression.

Victims of postpartum depression cannot retreat into a quiet world, but must constantly work and care for their helpless little beings. For these new mothers, the experience of first-time motherhood can feel like one-way love. People they met in other stages of their lives would love them in return, but now they give love but receive only demand in return. Many women feel lonelier at home with a newborn than alone. You can still watch TV or read a book when you are alone with your newborn, but you need to work endlessly for someone who rarely gives you positive feedback except hiccups or snoring.

However, why can I, who have never had childbirth experience, put myself into postpartum depression? Maybe it's like when a gay male friend tells me about his negative sexual experience, the sentence has not yet finished, but a tacit silence has already condensed in the air; and a professional psychological counselor does not need to experience the same trauma to understand and listen to my pain.


I just recently watched two documentaries about Erotic Photography, namely " Helmut Newton: The Bad and the Beautiful " and " Araki Nobuyoshi: The Photography of Love ". The works of these two photographers are quite controversial. Helmut Newton was even publicly criticized as misogynistic by Susan Sontag on a French TV show. Personally, I was concerned about Araki casually touching the model's breasts in the documentary. not feeling well. However, it is undeniable that although I identify as a feminist, I am also attracted to this kind of photography that is full of male gaze. I feel very confused and conflicted about this.

Do I like nudity or naked female bodies? Is the woman here the "woman" projected by the photographer, or the "woman" I understand as "me"? These question marks are directed towards the invisible scabs everywhere on the body that are eager to fall off. It was destined to be dug out. I want the wound to heal quickly .

I love looking at my naked body and feeling desired. Maybe that's why I feel comfortable and at home in Helmut and Araki's work. I can see myself becoming one of the subjects. The desire next to the word "female" is also a real desire, isn't it?

But at the same time, in my real life, I was experiencing unwanted stares. And that's only because my new roommate (a straight male) frequently compliments me on what a beautiful girl I am. I wonder if a normal person would feel uncomfortable with such a compliment? The uncomfortable feeling came from the perpetrator who once said to my naked body after sex that your body is so beautiful and you should become a model.

Therefore, the word "Beautiful" has become a dirty word; it has fangs ready to tear you apart at any time.

These feelings are very contradictory. I am pained by this contradiction.




This article took me a long time to write because I accidentally deleted the first version of the 2,000-word draft. It was rewritten and completely off-key, but still what I wanted to say. It’s just that this is no longer the thought process I originally had when I wanted to explore and see women (writers). I haven’t even answered why some stories or words have to be written by women to make sense. But the answer is yes. After all, some injuries are more powerful if they are spoken out personally by the person involved, right? Suppose the parties concerned also have the desire to speak.

A few days ago, I finally (plucked up the courage) to express my uncomfortable feelings towards Beautiful Girl to my new roommate in a casual chat, and asked him not to describe me like that again. I said, To me, the word "beautiful" often links to a memory that caused me pain. He then asked, Do you think you would ever be able to recover from that?

Every time I encounter such a problem, my heart will clench together.

Damn it, I really want to get better.

No one would like to live a life like this that's so sensitive and easily triggered. If there is a choice... Only if there is a choice.



CVC-Sophie


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