All the constant stupid interactions with men. All the little stuff that I keep trying to shrug off because if I gave each one the thought it merits, I’d be so weighed down I couldn’t move.
The unavoidable heteronormativity, assumed monogamy, and adherence to stereotypical gender roles in everything around me. From the cute girly shirts and panties and whatnot that say “I ❤ my boyfriend" to the "every girl doubts she's beautiful until that one man shows her she is" motivational images, to lockets with flowing script that say "only one man has the key to my heart." Plot lines that revolve around The Guy cheating on The Girl with The Other Girl and that's the source of all the rest of the story. Pop-culture BDSM references that mention "Daddy" and "his girl" but only in that configuration, especially in the form of "that moment when…" memes supposedly describing a universally-understood experience.
Depression and how it fucks with my brain, my ability to perceive the world… or doesn't.
Sex, wanting sex, needing sex, going without. Sadness at what was almost a really wonderful relationship ending before it even got going. Knowing how long it's been since I had some particular needs addressed (3 and a half years for some things… as long or more for others) and how my current situation makes it more difficult to get out and get laid, keeps me isolated instead of out and about and potentially meeting people.
Home, what home is, what I want it to be, whether I should bother wanting it to be anything, whether I'll ever have it. Whether I could handle having that stability.
Why people insist that I should be proving that I have a right to live by toiling at a job, to "earn a living." What makes people think that being a full-time student or a full-time employee are the only two things that qualify one as a Real Adult. How people don't seem willing to acknowledge that "no overnight guests" is the same thing as "you should not be having sex" and that direct communication can work wonders for keeping things running smooth between roommates without preemptively banning entire categories of behavior or activity.
And so much more. Any of those could be an entire blog post on its own, and there's always more fighting to get out of my head and onto the page, but I'm usually stuck in a hellish environment and trying to hang onto sanity instead of doing the writing that I need to do.
I hate it.