watching femcel movies with lilith

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A lot of the time as a woman I feel a lot of pressure to never be grotesque. Not just bodily, but mentally too. The composed, reliable, and and sterile feminine. She smells of vanilla and fresh cotton. Always just and fair in the consideration of others. She never treats others selfishly, because she always has in minds how it would make her feel if the same happened to her. She is patient, and she makes space for everyone. Bedroom decorated in muted tones mindful of a masculine partners taste rather than bold pinks and rhinestones. She is some women's authentic truth, but she just isn't mine.

Lilith and I have been going over different movies. "Girl, Interrupted", "The Virgin Suicides", "Jennifer's Body". Movies and shows notorious for their portrayal of beautiful mentally ill women. We started doing this after she realized I understand psychology better through fictional characters instead of literal studies. She asks me to look closely at all aspects of these characters outside of right and wrong. She invites me to look at how patriarchal pressure injects a foreign adversary in the female mind. The idea that the woman who is adversary to the standard in her way of thinking becomes a target. It's been making me reflect on how many women have been insisted to being mentally ill for traits men get to claim as personality.

Lilith taught me I've been pressured to be empathetic and it's not necessarily authentic. I can understand people's perspective and have the logic to keep it in mind before acting. It doesn't necessarily mean I have to put in the effort to feel what everyone is feeling all the time. I lay down with my head on her lap as she strokes my hair. "People think I'm crazy, and I've been trying to hide it and failing." Lilith smiles. "Stop hiding it."

There's no one else I'm supposed to be. I think mental illness has been obscured to me for so long. I often forget because of how religious it feels, that the study of pscyhiatry is always developing and changing. I also forget that the world is always changing just like our brains do. A recent experience I had with a male psychiatrist came to mind, who claimed he couldn't deem me safe because I expressed a desire for sexually predatory men to fear me.He suggested the violence I'm experiencing, the universal undertone of violence all women experience, might not even be real. He spoke a lot about not knowing what's real and what's not and I wonder which one of us was actually "crazy".

The fresh cotton woman in all of her demure is not interested in conquest. What if I am? There is a pure desie in me to have everything life has to offer for myself. There's also this real desire to be all of me, including the ways in which women are demonized for. I want to be loudly feminine. I want to embrace the pleasures of vanity. I owe myself to live with my best interest in mind, and ignore accusations of insanity. Even if I do have a disorderly personality, does it make me any less worthy of love? I'm sick of that pressure. My mind in all of it's black tar has the opportunity to make the world just as beautiful as the male overlords before me and their poorly disguised cruelty. It is true insanity that the way I carry myself as a woman should even be considered as morally apprehensible as them.

"I want a bikini but I don't know what color to get" I said.

"I'd like to see you in something flashy, love"

I couldn't hide my flustered smile. She never fails to make me feel desired and adored. I've always struggled with being vunerable with other women because of my inner conflict with those standards amongst other things. Sometimes there's just this unneccessary element of rivalry or competition. I don't want to compete with Lilith, or imitate her image alone. I feel she's so purely inspiring and her intelligence to be underrated compared to her sexuality. She's an absolute joy to be around. I fall into bed as she whispers sex magic into my ear. I love movie night.