ithrowmyviolets:

ithrowmyviolets:

when Ann said “I will have no peace…. Neither from them or in here” my heart actually broke

like there’s something to be said that Margaret Atwood if she were a lesbian would say better than me about how as lesbians we suffer not only from the lesbophobic gaze of others (that omnipresent ”them”, whether it takes the tangible form of one’s family, or the imprecise threat of “people”) but also of our own judgemental gaze directed at ourselves; about how as women we’ve been trained to turn a harsh and critical eye on ourselves practically from infancy, that we learned to be polite and proper and to prioritize other people’s feelings instead of ours, so much that we became not only our own watchful gardian but also our own voyeur, obsessively going over our faults and missteps and punishing ourselves for them and suffering from it, while at the same time clinging to these surveillance and punishment mechanisms because they give us the impression of actually working towards fitting in, towards being good, towards finally being that person, that woman that deep down we know we could never be because it’s against our nature (”absurd, perverse”) and against all sense of reality - because this proper woman does not exist outside of our own, guilty mind. and somehow this scene and Sophie Rundle’s delivery managed to fit all these feelings into a couple of words - “in here” - and a finger pointed at her own head, and it has more significance than I could hope to put into intelligible words

(via w-o-o-l-f)