Danielle Campoamor

Danielle Campoamor

Bio

Danielle Campoamor is a staff and freelance writer, mother, feminist, and women's rights advocate. She currently lives in Seattle, WA, where the whiskey is warm and the rain is cold. You can follow her on Facebook and Twitter. 

Danielle Campoamor Articles

I keep going, one foot defiantly placed in front of the other. Image: Adrian Williams.

Dear Street Harasser: Here Are 6 Reasons I Refuse To Smile

There are so many reasons why I and countless other women walking down countless sidewalks aren’t smiling. Our rights are still being violated, still being stripped from us, and still being fed to presidential candidates as topics for the latest debate. We’re against fighting gender inequality, sexism, racism, homo- and transphobia, income inequality, gender stereotypes, domestic abuse, and the constant threat of rape.

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We tried too hard, out of some misplaced sense of lady-love and feminism, when we should have let one another go.

The Truth About Lady Friendships: Some Love Doesn’t Last Forever

Our friendship was over long before that night I hurt her feelings because she hurt mine. Our commonalities were evaporating, we didn’t see one another as often, and I’m fairly certain we didn’t like one another anymore. While growing up, we grew apart — but instead of seeing that natural division as a normal, common and positive part of adulthood, we grew scared and self-conscious and defensive. What does this mean about us, as women? Why can’t we continue to love one another? Are we bad friends? Are we bad people?

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I see the face of my attacker in every anti-abortion law passed and every piece of anti-women legislation written and every anti-choice rally held.

Taking Away Access To Safe And Affordable Abortion Care Might As Well Be Rape

The first time I felt like I had lost control of my body was over six years ago, when I found out I was pregnant. Biology and time and every facet of my human existence seemed to be working against me. I was afraid and ashamed, because I could have been smarter and more accurate with my birth control and I wasn’t too young or too dumb. I knew better. But, thankfully, there was something I could do about it.

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I knew this feeling of helplessness and hopelessness and loneliness wouldn’t go away. And it didn’t. And yet, I hoped. With all that I had, I hoped.

No One Believed Me: On Being An Imperfect Victim In A World Of Perfect Abusers

I was questioned about my sexual past — a past filled with consensual partners and an affinity for whiskey — and quickly deemed to be an imperfect victim, a deviant who was sexually active far too often and for far too long to ever conceivably tell a man no.

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As a woman, I’ve sadly had to grow accustomed to being attacked for simply having and expressing an opinion. Image: Thinkstock.

I Shouldn't Have To Be Your Mother, Sister, Or Wife To Be Respected Online

[CN: misogynistic online harassment; death threats; mentions of rape and child abuse] You shouldn't have to go to a great imaginative effort to humanize a woman to treat her like a human being. Spoiler alert — she's already a human being without you knowing her or caring for her or seeing her as a long-lost relative or even agreeing with her.

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My pain is vaild.

My Pain Didn't Matter — Because I'm A Woman

There were pills for the pain, but there was nothing that could help me forget that my boyfriend didn’t truly care about me. I couldn’t swallow a drug and turn my partner into someone who not only wanted to take my pain away, but believed that I was in pain at all. There wasn’t a prescription a doctor could write that would make my despair believable. There wasn’t a cure for my boyfriend’s apathy.

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