In preparation for the writing of this article, I did a very casual poll to see how many of the people I knew had, at some point in their lives, been sent a photo of ANY genitalia that they did not ask for. I made a point of asking friends from different ethnic / moral / religious / sexual / educational / geographical / comedic backgrounds and truly attempted to get varying answers from varying lifestyles. In total, 20 humans answered.
Can you guess how many of them have received one?
Take a moment and picture yourself going somewhere: maybe you’re heading to dominate at work or to educate yourself at school. You could be just stepping out to make an appearance on the streets or maybe you simply stepped out for a self-care walk and some fresh air.
As I was scrolling through my Instagram feed this morning, procrastinating about getting up as long as I possibly could, I came across a number of posts reminding Marchers from the recent Women’s March Anniversary that if their Feminism isn’t Intersectional Feminism, it isn’t Feminism at all. I agree with this concept, wholeheartedly.
But, what is Intersectionality, exactly?
Picture the scene: It’s 2007. Internet speeds are slower. Blackberrys are still in their prime. A teenage Mars sits in her “No Fear” sweatshirt, flare jeans and Ugg boots while “surfing the web” for new music. Lost on a tangent, searching random video to random video, sinking deeper and deeper into the unexplored depths of youtube space until suddenly – a masterpiece! The song was infectious and unlike anything I had ever heard before. I didn’t know it at the time, but that video would change my life forever.
I long for the companionship of women.
Strong women. Self-aware women. Opinionated, supportive, “woke” goddesses – to do face masks with, to group chat ideas on ways to fight the patriarchy with and to pour unending support into.
I was 16 years-old, the first time I was catcalled.
Well, the first time that I remember anyway.
There is an ache within my soul that is unceasing.
For me, it has never been a question of not knowing what I wanted.
I was born into privilege. Miles from “the hood”, was given every opportunity a “white” girl should. Pissed it all away in highschool getting D’s and F’s, but now I wish I had read those chapters, tried my best. Because the whole rest of the world is desperate for a decent education. Women acidified and […]
Call Me Mars 