A competition on Facebook by a male grooming brand to send a Malaysian to a space camp in Florida, USA to train to be an astronaut turned ugly when the only female finalist was “trolled”, drawing sexist comments from netizens.
Post-graduate student Roshini Muniam, who is one of the top five finalists of Axe deodorant’s Apollo Space Race competition, was discriminated against online due to her gender.
A comment posted by Syed Wazien on Roshini’s profile, featured in Axe’s Facebook page, expressed surprise over a woman’s desire to go to space.
“What – a woman?! No way, hose!!!” he said.
Geeky Fredward wrote that Roshini should not compete and must make way for her male counterparts to win the competition.
“Banyak lagi competition untuk female only kat luar tu lady.. (there are many other competitions for females out there, lady) don’t ruin what’s intended or most considered to be men only chance?”
Another commentator, Dimitriy Mirovsky, was more insulting, saying that women should be prohibited from the competition as they menstruate.
“pompuan REJEK…… lelaki sahaje….. kang tampon ang pecah kat langit tu abis rosak space craft tu….. kah kah kah……” (Women should be rejected… it is only for males… if your tampon burst while you are in space, the entire spacecraft will be spoilt… kah kah
This is reminiscent of an incident in the Malaysian parliament in 2007 when controversial Barisan Nasional MP Datuk Bung Mokhtar Radin, in a heated exchange in the Dewan Rakyat with opposition MPs over a leaky roof in Parliament House, said: “Mana ada bocor? Batu Gajah pun bocor tiap-tiap bulan juga. (Where is the leak? The Batu Gajah MP also leaks every month.)”.
Batu Gajah MP Fong Po Kuan and other women MPs were outraged by his comments and he was eventually forced to apologise.
Plucky Roshini, 27, has hit back at the trolls.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. I am all out to win this competition because I want to inspire ordinary people to have extraordinary dreams & goals,” she posted on the page.
The contestants underwent a series of challenges which tested their mental strength and endurance. The pictures of the top five were posted online. Visitors to the page then could vote for their choice.
Some netizens have also come out in her defence, with Rajakumari Rajagopal pointing out that the competition was open to all Malaysians and that she qualified on merit.
“She was the only Malaysian woman who had made her way to the semi-finals and now to the finals. She needs your help and everyone’s help to make her dream come true. Why can’t she have a dream? Why can’t she be given an equal right to participate? Why can’t she be the final person to represent Malaysia. Malaysia Boleh! 1 Malaysia! Hidup Malaysia!”
Rafizal Rahman said Roshini should not be praised and not criticised, pointing out there was already a lot of female astronauts in the world.
The competition closes next Tuesday and the winner will be announced on September 24.
The winner will represent Malaysia in Florida and compete against other nations’ candidates for an opportunity to go to space.
Only 22 people will be selected for the Florida experience.
She’s losing by 20k votes. Let’s fix this.
SHE’S IN THIRD! Tumblr, this should be our mission!!
4 Pieces of Wisdom to Inspire You
Printing these to hang in my apartment.
When Your Mother Says She’s Fat:
I was 7 when I discovered that you were fat, ugly, and horrible. Up until that point I had believed that you were beautiful—in every sense of the word. I remember flicking through old photo albums and staring at pictures of you standing on the deck of a boat. Your white strapless bathing suit looked so glamorous, just like a movie star. Whenever I had the chance I’d pull out that wondrous white bathing suit hidden in your bottom drawer and imagine a time when I’d be big enough to wear it; when I’d be like you.
But all of that changed when, one night, we were dressed up for a party and you said to me, ‘‘Look at you, so thin, beautiful, and lovely. And look at me, fat, ugly, and horrible.’’
At first I didn’t understand what you meant.
‘‘You’re not fat,’’ I said earnestly and innocently, and you replied, ‘‘Yes I am, darling. I’ve always been fat; even as a child.’’
In the days that followed I had some painful revelations that have shaped my whole life. I learned that:
1. You must be fat because mothers don’t lie.
2. Fat is ugly and horrible.
3. When I grow up I’ll look like you and therefore I will be fat, ugly, and horrible too.
Years later, I looked back on this conversation and the hundreds that followed and cursed you for feeling so unattractive, insecure, and unworthy. Because, as my first and most influential role model, you taught me to believe the same thing about myself.
With every grimace at your reflection in the mirror, every new wonder diet that was going to change your life, and every guilty spoon of ‘‘Oh-I-really-shouldn’t,’’ I learned that women must be thin to be valid and worthy. Girls must go without because their greatest contribution to the world is their physical beauty.
Just like you, I have spent my whole life feeling fat. When did fat become a feeling anyway? And because I believed I was fat, I knew I was no good.
But now that I am older, and a mother myself, I know that blaming you for my body hatred is unhelpful and unfair. I now understand that you too are a product of a long and rich lineage of women who were taught to loathe themselves.
Look at the example Nanna set for you. Despite being what could only be described as famine-victim chic, she dieted every day of her life until the day she died at 79 years of age. She used to put on makeup to walk to the mailbox for fear that somebody might see her unpainted face.
I remember her ‘‘compassionate’’ response when you announced that Dad had left you for another woman. Her first comment was, ‘‘I don’t understand why he’d leave you. You look after yourself, you wear lipstick. You’re overweight, but not that much.’’
Before Dad left, he provided no balm for your body-image torment either.
‘‘Jesus, Jan,’’ I overheard him say to you. ‘‘It’s not that hard. Energy in versus energy out. If you want to lose weight you just have to eat less.’’
That night at dinner I watched you implement Dad’s ‘‘Energy In, Energy Out: Jesus, Jan, Just Eat Less’’ weight-loss cure. You served up chow mein for dinner. Everyone else’s food was on a dinner plate except yours. You served your chow mein on a tiny bread-and-butter plate.
As you sat in front of that pathetic scoop of mince, silent tears streamed down your face. I said nothing. Not even when your shoulders started heaving from your distress. We all ate our dinner in silence. Nobody comforted you. Nobody told you to stop being ridiculous and get a proper plate. Nobody told you that you were already loved and already good enough. Your achievements and your worth—as a teacher of children with special needs and a devoted mother of three of your own—paled into insignificance when compared with the centimeters you couldn’t lose from your waist.
It broke my heart to witness your despair and I’m sorry that I didn’t rush to your defense. I’d already learned that it was your fault that you were fat. I’d even heard Dad describe losing weight as a ‘‘simple’’ process—yet one that you still couldn’t come to grips with. The lesson: You didn’t deserve any food and you certainly didn’t deserve any sympathy.
But I was wrong, Mom. Now I understand what it’s like to grow up in a society that tells women that their beauty matters most, and at the same time defines a standard of beauty that is perpetually out of our reach. I also know the pain of internalizing these messages. We have become our own jailors and we inflict our own punishments for failing to measure up. No one is more cruel to us than we are to ourselves.
But this madness has to stop, Mom. It stops with you, it stops with me, and it stops now. We deserve better—better than to have our days brought to ruin by bad body thoughts, wishing we were otherwise.
And it’s not just about you and me anymore. It’s also about Violet. Your granddaughter is only 3 and I do not want body hatred to take root inside her and strangle her happiness, her confidence, and her potential. I don’t want Violet to believe that her beauty is her most important asset; that it will define her worth in the world. When Violet looks to us to learn how to be a woman, we need to be the best role models we can be. We need to show her with our words and our actions that women are good enough just the way they are. And for her to believe us, we need to believe it ourselves.
The older we get, the more loved ones we lose to accidents and illness. Their passing is always tragic and far too soon. I sometimes think about what these friends—and the people who love them—wouldn’t give for more time in a body that was healthy. A body that would allow them to live just a little longer. The size of that body’s thighs or the lines on its face wouldn’t matter. It would be alive and therefore it would be perfect.
Your body is perfect too. It allows you to disarm a room with your smile and infect everyone with your laugh. It gives you arms to wrap around Violet and squeeze her until she giggles. Every moment we spend worrying about our physical ‘‘flaws’’ is a moment wasted, a precious slice of life that we will never get back.
Let us honor and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs. When I looked at that photo of you in the white bathing suit all those years ago, my innocent young eyes saw the truth. I saw unconditional love, beauty, and wisdom. I saw my Mom.
Love, Kasey xx
i am unwanted…
immerse self in school? don’t really have a choice..
Person 1 “Hey D how come you’re so good at recruiting?”
Me “I dunno, I like talking to people! And I’m loud and obnoxious!”
Person 2 “I think it’s cuz she’s not afraid of rejection.”
Person 3 “Doesn’t that mean she’s been through a lot of it?”
Person 2 “Hey D have you been through a lot of rejection? Hahaha”
Person 1/3 “hahahahah”
Me “….yeah.. ihave..” *walks away recruiting 3 more guys*
Person 1-3 “…. -_-* “
Thanks for the love…sometimes people go through a lot more shit than you realize. Watch what you say people.
Seriously. Okay. I feel so much better about my body now. I figured they were fake or stuffed, but hearing it said by the models themselves and seeing what they really look like makes me feel so so much better about ME.
Last week, we all admired VS beauty Candice Swanepoel in various bikiniswhile shooting for the famous brand. Today, the blonde beauty is back in a two-piece, but this time, she’s not working, just enjoying the beach. Many visitors who requested this post pointed out that Candice’s bust looks noticeably smaller in this batch of pictures compared to the ones where she’s shooting for the Victoria’s Secret catalog.
On a related note, Candice’s colleague Rosie mentioned a while ago that she (and probably other VS girls too) wears 2, or 3 pairs of chicken fillets plus padding when posing for the brand in bikinis and lingerie in order to look curvier.
I really do not understand why she is a lingerie model. Not to sound like a bitch, but shouldn’t someone who actually has tits and an ass be modeling lingerie?
Head over heels ^_^°
10. Empty the tank, even if you know you won’t break your personal record or earn a medal. It’s okay to be sad, disappointed, and even angry. But look back on the experience and think about the physical satisfaction of pushing your body beyond its limits. Learn to push the barrier again and again until you crush it.
Tears…i can do this…this summer is going to be really long but i can do it
Submitted by: Alice_marie_
“I’m not really sure…”
“Well, what may I ask is your definition of feminine?”
“See, that’s the problem…every characteristic that I find feminine or girly about other girls, I despise…but I’m dying to feel feminine…so I’m not sure.”
“So let me ask you again, what is your definition of feminine and why do you want it so badly?”
“Well, pretty much lack of independence. But that’s a quality that I possess, independence, but I’ve just always found that doing things for myself makes me seem more manly or tomboyish.”
“You want to know what guys call that?”
“Sexy. Slightly intimidating, because we could throw you out on the street and you could survive on your own, but, Miss, we find that sexy.”
What am i doing with my life? I now don’t have a place to live next semester. I could possibly be required to drop my sorority. I am not dropping crew. No matter what my family says. I’m not dropping it. But ya know, I have to consider what is going to look better on a med school application.
I can’t get good grades to save my life despite having studied for over 60 recorded hours, over three and a half weeks.
How am i going to get into med school with grades like these? F***.