Whirling Dervish
I hope the whirling never ends. Then I remember, nothing is endless.
I hope the whirling never ends. Then I remember, nothing is endless.
The bonds between women are downplayed, disrupted and even villified.
I’ve never thought of myself as a dog person. I was chased by a dog in my youth and another one later. I’ve held my breath trying to quell panic through dog-owners insisting that their pets are harmless babies, that I shouldn’t worry and that anybody who hates dogs is…
I did this on Instagram. I was touched by the sensitivity of the questions asked. It helped me shift the heaviness of my heart.
It is the face of a woman that the world likes to call a Strong Woman. It is a tired look. A jaded look. A bored look. A dismissive look.
I thought of myself as ‘one of the boys’ because I didn’t identify with how femininity was practised around me. I’ve come a long way. I may even be one of the girls.
FOMO (or Fear of Missing Out) is not a good identifier of taste, let alone an actual description of personality.
I’ve soldiered on in feminism alone. Last night, I saw a community police itself. And it let me go back to being a person, not a soldier for an evening.
The Novelty Girl. The Character In Someone Else’s Coming of Age Story. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl. The Guilty Pleasure. The Bucket-list Woman. Names I’ve been called.
If there’s an emotion that I really wish did not exist, it’s JEALOUSY.