Professional pounder of the patriarchy.

Archive for January, 2017

Dear Creep, A Year On

Dear Creep,

I never asked for an apology. After a year of silence, of growth, I would have been content to never, ever hear from you again. But you rolled in, like boys do, with an assumption and a guilt-trip.

I’m sorry. I miss you. We used to be so close.

We were not close; I was simply a self-shaped magnet. I was sixteen, I had never had a boyfriend and my self-esteem was 20,000 leagues under the sea. I was fragile. I just wanted someone to notice me.

In the space of that year, I learned to notice myself. Oh, I am glad to see her at last with my own two eyes. She is beautiful and worthy and self-sufficient and daring and spiritual and funny – all the things you wanted to give me because you did not think I had them within myself all along.

There were never any other girls, what are you talking about???

They were not other girls; they were my friends, my sisters, my comrades-in-arms. I let you pursue and intimidate them, because I would have had to let you go to push you away.

I am not angry because I am a woman scorned, for I was never your girl in the first place. I am angry because I let your toxic waste into the lakes of Artemis, where girls are my retinue and not my firing squad.

I tell you all this, in blue and white oblongs on a four-inch screen.

I was being nice, try it some time.

Why is it always a battle of the sexes with you?

An attitude like this is why guys don’t want to talk to you.

Grow up, yeah? People might take you seriously then.

I grew up. I am not a frightened girl anymore. There is no insecurity in my heart for your sake and the battle is the one you brought to my doorstep yourself. You forget that women are warriors and witches and wanderers, and I am all of these three and more besides.

Hate me from afar. But know this: no hatred is a match for the love I have for my own body and soul and identity, and for the bodies, souls and identities of the women I am proud to call my sisters.

Expect no apology for that.


“To be bitter is to attribute intent and personality to the formless, infinite, unchanging and unchangeable void. We drift on a chartless, resistless sea. Let us sing when we can, and forget the rest…” – H.P. Lovecraft


It’s 2017. What now?


To all my readers and followers, thank you for making 2016 so rewarding (and challenging). A lot happened last year – a lot – and I’ve had to rethink my politics very carefully over the course of the year. I’ve had to come to terms with my failings and my shortcomings. I’ve had to educate myself on issues of which I wouldn’t otherwise have formed an opinion. I’ve had to change.

Of course we had Brexit, followed by the election of Donald Trump. There have been terror attacks, sieges, military coups and political dissent. At times, the left and progressive movements in general seemed to be on the verge of collapse.

However, rather than seeing these events as a defeat, we should see our persistence, our survival, as a triumph. We can and should mourn the people who have lost their lives. We should lament the state of politics and the dissolution of diplomacy, both in the West (with the rise of the far right) and in the Middle East.

Once we have mourned, the next step is to address our flaws, no matter which social justice movement we belong to. We need to consider why people find right-wing populism so appealing. How can the left – both here in the UK and elsewhere – mobilise effectively?  How can feminists engage with the left and what should our role be? How do we solve the issues that matter to ordinary people?

Then we fight. We read and we research; we write and we speak. We protest, loudly and with conviction.

Treat 2016 as less of an inferno and more of a fuse. Let it burn inside your heart.