When a financial institution asks me my “mother’s maiden name” as a security question. Because it’s assumed that I have at least one and no more than one mother in my life AND that she married AND that she gave up her own name AND that that part of her identity was erased enough from my public history so as to be a password to access my private information.
Holy crap, I never realized.
"Hit me my thesis is due in 12 hours and I haven’t started it"
"Hit me I have a final in an hour and I didn’t study"
"Hit me I’ve been on a 24 hour drinking binge and I’m invincible"
"Hit me. You’re a university vehicle and I’ll get free tuition."
"Hit me I feel like a failure anyway"
If you take a young man and woman and they both tell a stranger that they work in the same restaurant, it’s very likely that they will assume that the woman is the waitress, and the young man a cook.
But I thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen? Not when she’s being paid for it. I can’t believe it took me this long to realize the implication of this. A woman’s place is one of servitude.
this fucking hit me like a fucking train