"No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds."

I know I am not alone in simply thinking "What? No!" to the news that Robin Williams has killed himself this morning. A comedy great, a man whose biggest films are loved by those who grew up with him, and those that came later too.

What I hope can be taken from Williams' passing is a strengthened resolve to tackle mental health issues. Every year 1 in 4 people in the UK suffer from a mental health problem. Suicide is the main cause of death in men under the age of 35, although women are more likely to be treated for a mental health issue than men. Perhaps because our society still has no room for supposed "weak" men. And what is weaker than your mind falling apart?

Well that's wrong, and we need to change the perception of people with mental health issues. I have a history of depression in my family: in fact I think everyone on my mother's side of the family up to my grandparents has had depression. My sister and I have both attempted suicide by overdose. And yet mental health is still not treated in an equal way to physical health in the NHS, despite the Coalition Government's promise to do so; NHS England this year announced cuts in funding to mental health services. Mental health problems continue as a silent issue, one that affects so many of us: people we love, people we work with, or even ourselves.

Robin Williams' isn't the first acting great we've lost this year: Philip Seymour Hoffman died from a drugs overdose earlier this year. Addiction can be considered a type of mental health problem, and it has been in the news lately with Nick Clegg promising to abolish prison sentences for people caught for possession of drugs for personal use, because they are "people who need treatment". The Lib Dem's have a point, of course, that personal drug use should be approached as a "health" issue and not one of law & order. But if there aren't the resources available to help people get off the drugs that control (and are possibly ruining) their lives, then what difference does it make?

I am going to watch Hook, and remember Robin Williams' for the comic genius and Oscar-winning actor that he was. Not the broken and desperate man the depression inevitably made him at the end. And there is no substitute for Robin Williams.

Robin Williams: Career in Pictures (Only Oscar) 

Let it Go.

*Trigger warning: sexual assault

Today I saw my arch-nemesis. 

Then I realised how silly it is that I refer to her as my arch-nemesis. 

Because I'm 25. And it was 9 years ago. 

And then I started ruminating on my biggest problem - I can't let go. 

This is no sudden revelation for me, that I dwell on situations long passed. I think about how I handled them, and I wish I'd done it differently. How I could have backed down in that argument, stood up for myself in others. Standing up for myself is the reaction I most frequently wish I'd had, though today I was pleased that my reflexes are so honed that if anyone remotely beeps, whistles or catcalls me, my middle finger responds. That's about all the acknowledgement they deserve. Let's see if it reaches their brains, which clearly don't live where the sun shines otherwise it'd get more oxygen and act in less misogynistic way. New theory? 

For those of you who don't know the story, my arch-nemesis is a girl from my form group in high school, who was also in my Drama class. She was behind in her coursework, and asked me for help. I had already handed mine in, so I sent her one of my essays to guide her.

She copied it. We were called in by our Drama department. She cried. She denied it. They told her to rewrite it. They told us that we were lucky that they were not going to go to the full extent of their powers: reporting us to the exam board. Because that exam board could then disqualify us from our Drama examination. And any other exams we took with them. And then could report this to the other exam boards, who could then disqualify us from all the exams we were taking with them. 

In short, we could have ended up with no GCSE's. 

I never forgave her. I barely spoke to her ever again, although she came to my 16th birthday party because she was dating a friend of mine. 

In fact, we actually share being dumped by him. 

The last time I spoke to her, the summer of 2005, she told me she wanted to smash my face in. 

Now, years later, does she still want to? I highly doubt it. 

I'm not going to stick around and ask her though, so I did a quick whirl round and found another way to the M&S changing rooms. 

When I was 16/17 I had a blog in which I weaved an elaborate story of this girl having a baby with a horse. She was really into horses and her ex (he was then still my friend) had had a cryptic phone call from her from which we deduced (read: came to a conclusion with no actual evidence) she was pregnant. 

So I made up this ridiculous periodical of the Horse-baby saga.

It was juvenile. And pathetic. And simply an example of my imagination. 

And it's very probably lost in time. Somewhere on the internet.

Anyway. So this girl is my arch-nemesis because she almost ruined my life. Not having an GCSE's  would have ruined my life because I am no Richard Branson. OK maybe not ruined, just substantially damaged.

But what's done is done, and I'm going to stop calling her my arch-nemesis. 

I'm letting go.

But is letting go of my assault going to be as easy?

I'm still mistrustful of men to an extent. I still wonder if they have an agenda, because he must have done. He spent all night getting me drunk. Insisted on walking me home. Insisted on staying. 

Feminism as a movement has helped me get so far. Teaching me that it wasn't my fault. It's all his. He is the only person to blame. 

Which is why when someone denies that feminism is a movement for positive social and political change; when MRA's spread misogynistic language; when the media objectifies women and when people use sexist language - "you run like a girl", "don't be a pussy", "grow some balls" - like it's totally normal to demean one gender; I take it very, very personally.

Saying we don't need feminism, or there isn't a problem with sexism to me is like saying I am overreacting to what was a very serious and quite traumatic experience, that actually still haunts me. And it makes me so angry on behalf of EVERYONE. Everyone that doesn't have a voice. Every victim that is silenced the world over. All of us that have experienced sexual violence. The one woman killed every week by a current or former intimate partner (and not just in the UK). Any young girl having her genitals cut or being married off before she's even hit puberty. Every man who is ridiculed for wearing pink, or being the sole child-carer. Any man who feels he cannot tell people about being a victim of rape or domestic violence, because if it isn't enough of a taboo to be a woman and suffer it, men are often left feeling even more isolated. Every transgender person who is still called by their old name, and referred to as "he" when she is a "she". Or "she" when he is a "he".

So I take it very personally because by saying we don't need feminism is like feeling that fist hit my face all over again.

When you tell me that we don't need feminism, to me you are accepting that I stared into Aamir's eyes as I tried to fight him off, and his fist found my eye socket. It fitted perfectly. Twice. And that is ok. Because that kind of stuff just happens. And I probably had it coming.

I refuse to accept that. I refuse to accept that domestic and sexual violence happens; that rape and assault against all genders but especially against women happens and is questioned about what they were wearing or what they'd had to drink; that harassment and being underpaid are part of our working life; that we can't "have it all" but men's ability to "have it all" is never questioned. I refuse to accept all of those, and more.

That's why I will never let feminism go. How can I possibly let go of a movement that wants equality?

But what I will let go of?

The hold that Aamir has on me. The way his punch made me not trust men. The way his punch gives me flashbacks and makes me anxious. The way I have never worn those pyjama bottoms since, even though I still have them because they are really nice. But I am letting go of the negative emotions and experience that they remind me of. 

I am trying to let go of the hold that he has on me. 

But I am keeping hold of the strength that has been born out of that black eye.

I am never letting go of that strength.

Lewis puts forth "a great way to highlight how people feel about girls who are to blame for their own rape."

Massive thank you to Lewis Bishop for allowing me to republish his thoughts sent to me on Facebook during our now continual discussion around sexism, misogyny, rape culture and the general rubbishness of society.

****


Say a girl tells me she wants to fuck me. She is being incredibly seductive - kissing me, whispering in my ear, grabbing my cock, gyrating against me, the works. Say we go to a hotel room and she undresses me, then does a sexy strip as she undresses me. Then, as we're about to have sex ...
She changes her mind.
She says she doesn't want to have sex. Why? Because she actually enjoys being a tease. And that's all there is to it. The point is, I was led to believe we were going to have sex, but now she doesn't want it. 

Say I rape her.
How much of this rape is her fault?
The one and only correct answer is, of course, absolutely none.
Who thinks she asked for it? Who thinks she deserved it? Who thinks it was her fault? Who thinks the cocktease got what was coming to her?

Whoever thinks any of those things needs to seriously evaluate how they think about sexual assault. People have the right to choose who they do and do not have sex with. The circumstance does not matter. To overpower someone who does not want sex and forcibly have sex with them is just as damaging, invasive, cruel, barbaric and - most importantly - wrong to the siren I described above as a shy 10-year-old girl. 

The opinion needs re-evaluating because the emotional reaction is directed at the wrong thing entirely. The decision to rape, the urge to rape, the crime itself, the perpetration of rape, is entirely the fault of nobody other than the rapist. Sex is something consensual. Rape is not. There is no in between, no middle ground. There is no understandable or acceptable rape. To entertain the thought that rape can be a form of justice is so barbaric as to defy belief. That someone can deserve it completely admonishes the responsibility of the rapist. No matter what the circumstance, nobody should ever be allowed to believe that rape is ever the fault of the victim. 

"Yeah, obviously we don't mean they DESERVE to be raped, but they are bringing it on themselves. That woman's behaviour gave the man cause to rape her. If she had not behaved in that way, or if she had not dressed or acted seductively, she would not have given you the urge to rape her. OBVIOUSLY rape is wrong, but she made it worse for herself. It's like walking around with money sticking out of your back pocket - you're inviting the crime upon yourself, whereas if you altered your behaviour, nobody would have wanted to steal your money. The same applies to that girl you raped. You have to be realistic."

This argument is always put forward. And you know what's wrong with it? It lays the foundations that say the crime itself is acceptable because there are always people who are going to do it. It's just one of those unstoppable things. People are gonna rape! So alter your behaviour. This reinforces the idea that, on some level, this is an accepted part of society. It's just one of those things.

But what if the common response only consisted of hatred towards rapists? What if people jumped to the defence, always, of rape victims, regardless of their appearance and behaviour? What if in no way was a rape victim ever even partly to blame for their rape? In the same way that paedophilia is always reviled and hounded? What if as a society we took more care to protect women at clubs, in the street, everywhere, because rape is in no way ever acceptable or something a woman can deserve? If as a society we recognised unhealthy tendencies in other men and challenged them, and highlighted them, and warned others of them? Is it not possible that this rape culture could be improved? Is it not possible that less people would become rape victims? Is it not possible that rape victims would feel more supported, and perhaps more comfortable with regards to reporting a rape that they felt too ashamed to report? Which in turn would lead to more rapists facing justice, and thus preventing any more rapes from those individuals? Is it really impossible that taking the stance that women can NEVER be even PARTLY responsible for their OWN RAPE could be better than blaming women for wearing REVEALING CLOTHING and putting themselves at risk?!

A Need for Feminism

So, my friend drew my attention to this: http://dontpaniconline.com/magazine/radar/women-against-feminism

These women are apparently against feminism. Often, people say they aren't a feminist because they love men. That they like being a mother and a stay-at-home one at that. Because they love heels and make up and short skirts.
Well guess what?
The only thing you have to believe, as a base principle, is that feminism is about equality for ALL. Genders, races, abilities, sexual persuasion, age. Everyone deserves equal rights and opportunities.
It's really simple.
And it's also about having the CHOICE. The choice to work or stay at home, the choice to wear flats or heels. The choice to love men, or not love men. Deciding that actually you don't really want to be involved in men is not misandry. Misandry is being prejudiced and discriminating against men simply because they have a penis.

It's more often the case that it ISN'T feminists who are using the language that people use in this Facebook page, and it’s usually more to do with MRAs and anyone else (mostly men) who hate women having equality.  (and when I say “mostly men” I mean it is mostly men disparaging the feminist movement, I am not saying most men are disparaging feminism. Very big difference. And seriously, have you ever, ever met a woman who didn’t want to be equal to men? To be treated equally, to be paid equally? To be dictated to about whether or not they can have an education, get married, do what they want with their body? EVER? REALLY????)

I have never met a woman, or man for that matter, who truly understands the base principle of feminism that would say feminism is about building a matriarchy, making women superior, that we need to oppress men, that we demonise men and tell others that all men are potential rapists (only that women are at far more risk of rape and sexual assault than men, and we do too speak up for the male victims of rape & sexual assault).

They don’t need feminism? Fine. I’m glad they have the free speech to tell us that, because feminists won that for them. Feminists won them the ability to vote, to have access to education, healthcare. They don’t need feminism? That’s great. Tell that to the women in Saudi Arabia who still can’t vote. Or drive. Tell that to Malala who was shot in the head for campaigning for education for girls. Tell that to the girls who don’t get an education in many countries across the world. Tell that to the girls who are abandoned in China because having a girl in a 1-child policy country is not something you want. Or in India, or other countries across the world where having a baby girl goes not just uncelebrated, but is positively a bad thing. Tell that to the girls and women across Africa, and in this country, and other countries, who have been the victims of FGM not because it’s part of any religion (though that would not make it ok either) but because it’s a tradition to make sure girls and women cannot ever feel pleasure from sex. Because women enjoying sex is a bad thing. But women not giving men sex is also a bad thing.

They don’t need feminism? Ok. But let them tell that to me, who was assaulted and then blamed myself because I had so strongly internalised the victim blaming that goes and for ages believed it was my fault he tried to rape me because I should have known better than to get drunk with him. One of my closest friends.

I need feminism to give me the voice to say "It was not my fault. The blame lies squarely on his shoulders."
Feminism is empowering. Not empowering victimisation. Just plain empowering.

 

When any person who says they are a feminist speaks about anything, they are representing themselves and their own understanding of feminism. Before I learned more, I thought feminism was about women being superior to men. Now I understand that society is constructed (and was constructed by white men btw) to make women inferior to men, to make blacks Asians Hispanics and all non-white races inferior to white, to make gay inferior to straight. And these are all things feminism fights against (it has its problems – feminism as it began was founded by middle-class white women and it does still struggle to be as fully inclusive as it needs to be but I believe huge steps are being taken to recognise and work towards a wholly inclusive movement. But it’s hard to do that when you’re talking about thousands, millions of individuals across the world – we all have different things we see as priority).

Every individual will say different things, but the one underlying principle remains the same:
Equality for all.

And if anything, feminism demonises ignorance. And so it should.
 

Why Dontcha Do Something?

Earlier this month I glanced over my New Years resolutions for this year, and I thought "next year I'm gonna keep it simple. Next year my resolution will be 'Do more'. That way I can't lose."

I've always needed my NY resolutions to be quantifiable. I certainly took to heart the training about SMART goals from school. 

But sod that. And sod waiting til next year. 

I'm scrapping those New Years resolutions. 

From now until the end of 2014, my single, solitary resolution is going to be "Do more". 

That way I can't fail. 

Second Half

It's July. We're officially in the second half of 2014. How the hell did that happen?! I am sure the older I get, the faster time flies. When there's not enough time to get stuff done this is no good thing. But when you are counting down the months, or weeks, or days til something or someone special, days flying by is no bad thing.  

But the second half is a good time to take stock of how life is going this year, 6 months into it. Although, 5 months of this first half I spent abroad, exploring new places and meeting new people. And feeling like I didn't fit in. 

Melbourne, Australia's culture capital, invented White Night last year. The second celebration of art, music, film, visual projection, had the streets filled. Jammed. Like standing on the pavement wondering why no one is moving, having your ankles rammed by pushchairs, your toes trodden on, making small penguin steps. Instead of feeling as if I was a part of the crowds - after all, I was traveling and seeking new experiences and culture and that's exactly what White Night gave it's public - I was caught by surprise at just how uncomfortable I am with the world we live in.  

When were we taught that we were all the mattered? As a species, how can we advocate looking out for  number one? How can we let councils erect anti-homeless spikes in doorways? How can we sit there in our cars, watching a homeless couple raid bins? Is it because we are in the safety of our cars? The physical barrier protects us. 

Is it because we are taught that the world is that way, it always will be that way. 

I call bullshit on that.  

This is the society that we chose to be. We are responsible for this. We invented the fast food that does damage to our insides. We invented the drugs, legal and otherwise that people use because sometimes they need more to life. Or sometimes less. We invented banking, and more to the point, money. Did we create the greed that comes with it?  

In these crowds of people at White Night, I felt like I was swimming in consumerism. I felt like I could not and would not engage with them. These are not my people, this is not my world. I don't want any part of it. I want out. Stop the world; I want to get off. 

There is guilt in me. That while I'm in constant pain, there are those that are in worse, with no chance or respite. While I worry about cash flow, I'm not worried enough that I have to choose between eating and heating. 

My problems are minuscule, negligible. 

And I have to recognise that the problems of this world do not lie on my shoulders alone.  They are everybody's problems.  

We are all human beings trying to get by.  

Lately I've been losing sleep, dreaming about the things that we could be. 

We, the people. We, humans. 

We have so much potential. Why are we wasting it? In the second half of this year, I will strive to stop wasting my potential.

I like baggy jumpers. But they may have to go.

Just now, as I was scrolling through Facebook for the umpteenth time today, I spotted this.

It was posted by Unpacking the 'F' Word, and comes from Curves Ahead (click here for their page).

Today I went to a Colour me Beautiful colour & style consultation. for years I've felt trapped in jeans and t-shirts. I look young, and I dress young because it's easy, comfortable, and I'm bored of it.

I like baggy jumpers. I like the kind of jumper you can snuggle up in. The kind you can put on and you become the jumper; your world is that jumper.

But baggy jumpers, according to my style consultation, are not good for me. Not good for my body type.
For my figure, I should be wearing fitted tops and jackets, to define and highlight my waist. Wear things that make my short legs look longer.

Baggy jumpers are the antithesis of fitted jackets. And aside from the aforementioned comfort, baggy jumper serve another, more sinister purpose.
They cover me up.
They hide my body.
They theoretically stop me from being harassed on the street.

When I make a conscious effort to highlight my figure, meaning my boobs and my waist, I get more looks and, ultimately, more comments.
This is not a scientific study by all means. It's just my own experience.
Comments in themselves are not necessarily harmful. It is the context in which they are made - a person assuming that their opinion of your appearance is of any consequence to you; by them saying you are looking "sexy" or that they'd "do you" as if you were an object to be, well, objectified.
And the reaction of the comment maker if they do not get a positive or any response - "f*ck you bitch"; "miserable c*nt".

And the idea amongst the comments and the consultation I went on that looks are important. Very important. In fact, the most important.

(Actually, that's not what the consultation was about. It was about finding what suits me and what works for me and I can choose to use that how I like. Looks are whatever you make them, and everyone is beautiful. It is only your perception of beauty that makes other people in the world ugly.)


So being told that I should wear fitted jackets and show off my waist, show off my figure, now that's easy to hear, easy to accept, but hard to put into practice.

Perhaps I shouldn't expect such behaviour from men. Not all men are street harassers DUH.
But why do I automatically anticipate it? Why does the idea of wearing clothes that actually FIT me terrify me a little bit? Because of the countless times it has happened to me? The countless times it has happened to others?

The above picture is right. Your body is not a problem. The problem lies in our attitudes towards our, and also in other people's need to have an opinion on it. You need to love your body. I need to love my body. And other people need to stop making comments that aren't goddamn welcome because I have never met you before in my life mate and the fact that you've spotted my tits does not mean you are genius. The words that just came out of your mouth, "Look at the tits on 'er", proves otherwise. Freedom of speech doesn't mean you're allowed to make women scared to wear a sodding skirt/top/dress/bin bag/hessian sack/birthday suit.