misogyny

No one wants your opinion…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

The internet is wonderful. It provides so many opportunities to learn, connect, help. It’s entertaining. I use it every damn day, but there’s always a catch.

Join me as I let off a little steam about that catch. Let’s begin with the old foe; men. There are so many men with oh so many opinions online. There’s the reply guy who must say something. The sleazy guys who just have to objectify every female presenting person they scroll upon. The scammers who think every woman becomes an idiot when contacted by surgeon, soldier or pilot. The obsequious guys & the ‘I want to be your sugar daddy’ guys. Last but not least annoying are the gotta throw inane insults at fat women guys. They’re all tedious. I don’t want creepy compliments or offers. I couldn’t care less what some random man thinks about my body or anything else. Stop assuming that you can impose your thoughts on strangers. I am not flattered by your compliments or interested in your preferences. What I am is disgusted, tired and sometimes fucking angry.

Less toxic, but the irritation factor remains high with the tarot, spiritualist, astrology charlatans. Every one of my social media inboxes are jammed with ‘offers’. Just send my DOB, mother’s maiden name & first pet’s name for a free expert reading. Even if I were stupid enough to fall for that con I still wouldn’t believe in any of the tripe they are preaching. I’m also smart enough not to use any of the requested info as security questions. I’d bet most of the population are equally savvy. Stop bothering me. I resent the minutes and finger taps I exert to block you.

Given our fast approaching election, politics loom large. That’s fine with me, I’ve always been political and the Tories need to go. My complaint is two fold. Firstly, the gammon. The folk who get all their information from GB News & use that propaganda to legitimise their hateful beliefs. As hard as I try I can’t not be angry when I see comments spouting vile and untrue hyperbole. I despise how many people have so eagerly adopted the most hateful far right rhetoric. I could not be more sick of seeing it every day. Secondly, I despair that the parliamentary Labour Party has abandoned its soul. Keir Starmer is barely discernible from the incumbents. We deserve better. 13yrs of Conservative rule has ravaged this country. People are suffering and they should have a real alternative.

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Take it or Leave it…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Recently I had what turned out to be naive idea. I was thinking about how I should be getting out more, break out of my routine, stop missing cool things I wanted to see. All good thoughts. Then I got cocky. I thought, hey, maybe I should meet some new people too. Bad thought.

I decided it might be fun to combine fun dating with interesting happenings. Of course I was entirely forgetting how low my tolerance levels are. So, what’s a girl to do? Write about it of course.

Date 1

We’ll call him Grey. Started off very well. We chatted a little online, he was engaging & intelligent. We shared plenty of interests. It didn’t hurt that Grey was handsome in exactly the way I like. When he suggested we check out Books at The Botanic I thought, this guy has potential. Then I spent an hour browsing books with a man who had clearly consumed some toxic pick up guy content. Every title I picked was beneath him. He commented on how surprised he was that I would enjoy ‘typically girlie stuff’ like Jane Austen. There were a couple of jokes about my never having been married. When he wondered if I could ‘strengthen’ my arthritic knees if I didn’t use my walking stick all the time I was done. No man is handsome enough to get away with such patronising bullshit.

Antique green leather bound Jane Austen Novels

Date 2

Cute & quirky, he seemed like fun. We had some enjoyable back & forth. Let’s call him Ha Ha. We met for sushi at a place he suggested. So, it was a surprise to me that he commented on the prices being too high. The chat was good, he was funny. It felt like we were both having fun. Lots of laughs led to cocktails and again, he wasn’t happy about the price tag. I was now officially uncomfortable. I get really embarrassed about this kind of thing. I don’t like to talk about money with people I don’t know well. Bitching about the price of a cocktail in a place you picked, gives me the ick. I drank my margarita & tried to think of a non awkward way to assure him I was happy to pay. I needn’t have bothered, on arrival of the bill he immediately started adding what he had consumed. I told him it was my treat and to ease any weirdness, that he could get the tip. I don’t mind picking up the tab. I could even have tried to get past the cringe. When I saw him placing a one pound coin tip on the table; I was out. That kind of cheapness is an absolute no.

Date 3 & 4

This one is a familiar story. I’m always very up front about my relationship wants. Marriage doesn’t feel like a thing I’m going to be a part of. I’m not even keen on the idea of living with someone. I enjoy my space, I like to make my own decisions. In short, I like my life. I’m in no rush to go turning it all upside down. I’m very much a ‘take it easy’ kind of girl. All of which was A OK with him. Until we hit that 2nd date. Say hello to Mr Fickle.

First date was cool. We went to a really nice tea place. The conversation flowed easily. He complimented more than my appearance. The man was interested and interesting. All good, I was down to see him again. The replay didn’t go so well. All of a sudden Mr Fickle wants to dig into how serious I am about not wanting to get married. He wants to assure me of what a great prospect he is. I keep diverting, but he brings us right back to topics that are not second date material. There wasn’t a third.

Date 5

This one was short and sweet. He’s a guy I briefly worked with a while ago. We’d stayed in touch via social media. He chatted me up a bit and I thought, why not? A query that was swiftly answered when he argued that those Jonah Hill texts were reasonable. I christened him Red Flag & made a sharp exit.

A row of red flags blowing in the wind.

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Don’t do it…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

It’s been a shitty couple of weeks and my patience is stretched pretty thin. Paper thin. So, when some random man started emailing pleading with me to get to know him there was no give left.

Variations of this happen all the time. To be a woman remotely online is to be seen as fair game. Wow, am I tired of it. Contrary to popular male belief the entire internet is not in fact a dating site. Men, I beseech you, please stop it. If you see an attractive woman online you don’t have to tell her. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we didn’t post that picture to lure strange men into our dms. Women do not exist to give you an opportunity to shoot your shot. We don’t want to know what you think of our bodies or what you’d like to do them. For the love of god, don’t tell us about your kinks.

Women do not owe you anything. You are not entitled to a chance, a reply or a second of our time. Listen to me, do not send that message. Don’t call us babe. Don’t type a bunch of kiss emojis and absolutely do not send a dick pic. No one wants to see any of it. What’s actually going to happen is immediate BLOCK. I mean this sincerely, take your creepy messages & fuck off.

If you enjoy what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Let’s talk about…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Let’s talk about breasts. Boobs, titties, knockers, baps. Whatever you want to call them. Just a human body part. So, what is all the fuss?

For a long time I thought I hated my breasts. I resented the attention they brought, the assumptions & limitations they imposed. I even looked into a surgical reduction to be rid of their weight. It’s only in recent years that I have realised that there is actually lots I enjoy about breasts. I didn’t hate them, they had just been weaponised against me.

Boobs are great. They feel nice. Breasts can be comforting. Nipples can have incredible sensation. They add lovely curves to the body. Mine look great in lots of things. They can sustain new life. Sure I wish my own didn’t give me back ache but they’re part of me and I like me.

Why all the hate, then? Well, we live in a world that projects so much onto these mounds of tissue. It starts so young. If you are a late bloomer, you are free game for mocking. Develop fast or bountifully and you will be Objectified. I managed to combine both. I was flat as a pancake and then between 14-15 years old my breasts went into overdrive. There’s years of being sexualised. Your peers will do it and you’re told ‘boys will be boys’. Then it somehow becomes a teenage girl’s fault that adult teachers are uncomfortable that they can see bra lines through a white school shirt or that her breasts bounce in P.E. Strange adults on the street will shout gross comments at a child in a school uniform. The bus driver will come onto you every day on the way home from school. Friends Mum’s will view you suspiciously because your body means you are not a ‘nice girl’. All along assumptions are made about who you are and how you can be treated purely by the fact that the tissue on your chest grew bigger than other girls your age.

As you grew older it just becomes more overt. Men in bars will comment on your body and if you complain you’re told it’s your own fault for showing cleavage. Any night out will include at least one random groping from a person you didn’t even say hello to. Getting angry garners insults. You are a slut or you’re ugly because you object to being sexually assaulted. Friends of friends will refer to you as ‘that girl with the huge boobs’. Jokes are made, envy expressed, inappropriate bra size enquiries are never ending. All the while there is an underlying implication that this is your fault. You are judged because of a body that you didn’t choose or have any control over.

It extends way beyond individual experiences. Everyone in possession of a pair is bombarded with messages about our own form. We have all had lists of things we can & cannot do. Don’t show bra straps, but you need a bra to control or enhance your shape. Clothes that aren’t ok for your body. Clothes that are sending a message. Activities we give up because we’re so tired of the attention we attract. We’re shamed if someone can see the outline of a nipple. Censored everywhere because a female presenting chest is sexual; even when it is feeding an infant. We still live in a world where using a breast for its intended purpose can be controversial. It’s all patriarchal bullshit.

ly is wearing a white t shirt with red print saying , if you can see my nipples under this t shirt it’a because i have nipples.
Tee – Curated by Girls

Our bodies are not inherently sexual. Seeing a nipple isn’t provocative. Breasts are just fat and tissue and skin. No more or less obscene than a nose or an armpit. The size and shape of our constituent parts bears no indication of who we are. Neither does how we choose to adorn them.

I feel sad that I ever considered surgically changing my body purely to avoid misogyny in its many forms. I am exhausted that at 41 I still have to explain the same point I was making at 16. None of this new. Yet, there are still umpteen men in my DMs every week talking only about my tits. I still get cat called and disapproving looks. A few years back a GP pointed out that she could see my bra poking out of a vest top and asked what message I thought that sent. This educated, professional woman could not understand my anger or the reason I complained about her comments.

I don’t how or when we bring this to an end. I do know it starts with me (& you) taking back my body. I am not for public consumption. I will continue to wear whatever pleases me. I’ll delete gross comments and if you dare to sexually harass me the very least you can expect is a loud fuck off. My breasts are large, my cleavage exquisite, but most of all they are mine.

ly is lying in a circular swing wearing black & white print dress ad harness bra

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Sisters in arms…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’m tired. To the bone exhausted. It’s been a relentless year, like everyone else I’ve just kept trudging along. This weekend I hit a wall. I doubt I’m alone.

The convergence of Mother’s Day, police violence against women & the flood of abuse/harassment stories that women have been sharing was overwhelming. Especially when I realised how many similar cases of missing or dead WOC I had never even heard of. Women the mainstream media had little interest in. Women who in some cases haven’t even had their death investigated. I’m not shocked by any of this. I know this is the world we live in. The abstract knowledge doesn’t make each individual case less painful. When you combine one’s own pain with the agony of the collective it’s crushing. It never stops. It never changes.

I’m aware that I’m feeling all this from a position of privilege. I have more space & safety to process. The police would likely pay attention to my family if I disappeared. I know my exhaustion is relative, but god, it’s heavy. I wish it were possible to ease the heavier weight I know many are carrying.

I don’t have any new answers. I’ll keep writing to MP’s, protesting, amplifying marginalised voices, putting my money where my mouth is. It’s a struggle to feel hopeful at the moment. So, I’m going add to taking care of myself to that list. I don’t know what that care looks like yet, but I’m working on it. I urge you to take whatever time you can & give yourself a little TLC too.

Illustration of horse, boy,Fox & mole from Charlie Mackesy
Charlie Mackesy

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Power to the people…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I’m utterly disgusted at the election results. Beyond that I am saddened & scared. English & Welsh working class voters supporting Tories is incomprehensible. To sell out hungry children, homeless & disabled people for Brexit is vile. The future looks terrifyingly bleak. Our NHS is in real danger & the most vulnerable people in our society are likely to persecuted further. I am grateful for the limited protection being in Scotland offers me. It has never been more clear that we need to be free of this rotten union. My heart goes out to all those who fear what the future brings under another Conservative government. More than ever we have to do what we can for those who will be left in need.

This women’s world…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 1 Comment

I hate the damn patriarchy. I hate the structures that allow it to continue to function, the men who deny its existence and those who just close their eyes to it. I am tired of rape culture and wage gaps and micro aggressions and attacks on reproductive rights. It all sickens me. However, what angers me most are the women who refuse to join the feminist ranks. The traitors in our midst are worse than the enemy at the gate.

The simple truth is that women must fight for each other. Allies are great, but we cannot rely on anyone else to secure our rights. Although men may care about the treatment of individual women, the have proven that they aren’t all that concerned with our fight for genuine equality. Even so-called decent men exhibit shock when women discuss the nitty gritty of our lives and how misogyny affects us. If almost every woman you know has been sexually assaulted or harassed, how is it possible that almost every man in your life has no idea that it was happening? How can women be cat called, groped and demeaned from the moment the grow boobs and no men ever participate or see it happening? It is isn’t possible. They know. Just like they know we’re side-lined in the work place. They same way they are completely aware that women still carry most of the burden of child rearing and home keeping. Not to mention the emotional labour of explaining this (& oh so many other things). Our patriarchal society is very comfortable for men. Hoping they will tear down their own kingdom is naïve. We have got to have each other’s back.

Shall we start with the basics?

Other women are not the competition. The pie is big enough for everyone to get a slice. You do not have to engage in that ‘I’m not like other girls’ bullshit. Women don’t create anymore drama than men. Female bosses aren’t inherently bitchy. Slut shaming isn’t cool. Trying to distinguish yourself at the expense of the entire sisterhood is a stupid move. Everyone knows what you’re up to and almost no one likes it. You think you’re winning cool girl points with the men folk, but they’ll stomp on you just as quickly as they do any other chick who gets in their way. In short, don’t be a desperate pick me. It’s just sad.

Offer genuine solidarity.

Support other women in all aspects of life. Vote for the women who deserve to hold office. Consume the art of talented women. Shout out your friend’s endeavours. Fight for representation with your voice and your purse. Don’t judge women for every little thing. Stay at home Mum’s aren’t better than those with careers outside the home. There is no perfect size. Trans women are women. We’re all real and we’re all just trying out best. If your feminism isn’t intersectional, it’s worthless.

Actions speak louder…

If there is any chance of breaking down the barriers that women face, we must be prepared to stand up for each other in practical ways. We must be willing to stand with our sisters even when it’s difficult. Don’t automatically dismiss reports of misconduct against men that you like. Abusers (of all types) often cultivate a nice guy persona precisely because it makes their predation easier to get away with. Listen and be prepared to question.

Back female colleagues. Shut down mansplaining and the co-opting of ideas. It is so easy for a third party to interject a simple ‘I think X already covered that’. Do not tolerate inappropriate talk. Don’t laugh or ignore sexist ‘banter’. Be clear that you are not amused, and you will not work in a toxic environment. If you witness discrimination, harassment, bullying approach the victim and offer your assistance. Not just a shoulder to cry on, but pragmatic help. Go on record with HR regarding what you’ve witnessed, testify at tribunals etc. This is even more important if the woman in question is also a member of another oppressed group. Use whatever power you hold to institute practices that make your workplace a place that women can thrive. Then fight to have to those polices enforced. Protect and encourage the warranted career progression of women who utilise maternity or family leave. We must be willing to stick our heads above the parapet. Even/especially when we may be the only female voice in a room.

Do not reward collaborators.

This is very simple. Women who purposely back the patriarchy do not deserve your support. If they are willing to inhibit the opportunities of other women for personal gain, they are not worthy of your backing. Don’t vote for, align yourself with or rely on them. A sisterhood of women is a very powerful thing. Devote your energy to building and sustaining your own.

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You know you want it…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 1 Comment

I really want to write about the whole Kavanaugh debacle, but I find myself too filled with rage to be coherent. He is the perfect example of how deep misogyny runs. From the tired old ‘why did she wait so long’ & ‘boys will be boys’. To his openly disrespectful treatment of female senators and the hypocrisy surrounding how male displays of belligerence & tears are strong and riveting, whilst a women doing the same would be hysterical and unfit for the public office. It’s the patriarchal home run. The really horrifying thing is I’m not convinced any of it will stop his confirmation. We keep thinking we’ve made progress, but it’s lip service. Crumbs.

I am disgusted. And exhausted.

Someone else summed it better. I’m just going to leave this here.

For the avoidance of doubt, I Believe Her. Dr Blasey Ford is a hero.

Woman of the week…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 2 Comments

It’s been a while, but a truly incredible woman inspired me to bring back the honour roll . This week’s epic woman is the fearless Hannah Gadsby

I had picked up on a little social media buzz about her latest stand up show, Nanette & headed onto Netflix to give it a watch. I expected some laughs. What I got was the most raw & uncompromising show I have ever seen. Hannah Gadbsy is a feminist hero. She begins by mixing jokes about her trauma with humour & explains how she balances tension to create relief with a punchline. Then, she bravely recounts her stories without relief. She gives us her reality.

Hannah Gadsby

She rails against violent misogyny & homophobia. She describes unflinchingly how being raised in an environment that teaches you to hate who you are cripples a child. She throws in the quips, but she never let’s the audience off the hook. She forces us to recognise her truth and her anger. She exposes her (& all our) need to honestly tell our stories. Her pain is palpable. Her courage is beautiful.

I beseech you all to watch Nanette. It is a masterpiece

You say you want a revolution…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 6 Comments

If you are even fractionally sentient you will be aware the Donald Trump visited the UK last week. He did so with all his usual grace & charm. Yup, that’s right, none. Instead he gave us his standard fare; lies, ill manners & fuckwittery.

I’m delighted to confirm that we weren’t standing for it. A reported 250,000 people took the streets of London to protest Trump’s arrival on our shores. In Glasgow the crowd was smaller, but no less passionate.

I’ll happily take every opportunity to denounce the U.S. President & his vile administration. For me it boils down to one really simple fact; if you don’t loudly condemn their actions, you’re condoning them.

I don’t consider it hyperbole to describe the current GOP as fascists. Trump’s government displays every single facist warning sign. Rampant racism leading to dehumanisation comes straight from the nazi playbook. Language such a infestation combined with policies like family separation & Muslim travel bans are undeniably examples of this. Extreme sexism is unavoidable when the commander in chief is a sexual predator. When you combine his misogyny with the increased power of the religious right you create a dangerous situation. Reproductive rights, access to health care & basic human rights for LGBTQ+ people are at serious risk. Assaults on the free press. An inability to conduct himself in reasonable & decent manner add to his horrors. When mocking disabled people is fair game, but denouncing white supremacy is not, you have a society in serious trouble.

It isn’t possible to recount all of Trump’s bad conduct in one blog post. He represents all that I find repulsive. His Presidency puts vulnerable people within & without America at severe risk. I think all decent people have a duty to resist. I’m proud of my city for making our revulsion clear.

I spent the first half of the protest sharing a bench with some elderly Americans who thanked me for our support. They also asked me to explain some of the signs, which proved a little awkward. ‘Fud’ is not a word that lends itself to polite translation. It was, however uplifting to share a laugh and all that we had in common.

Protest is important & powerful. Please join in whatever capacity you can. Be that matches, rallies, direct action or even donations. Be safe, but be strong.

You can put your money to good by donating to these organisations.

RAICES provide free & low cost legal services to immigrants & refugees in Texas.

The ACLU fight through the courts to defend the civil liberties of all Americans.

The Coalition to Stop Gun Violence does exactly what it says on the tin. The campaign for & work on legislation that will introduce gun restriction laws which will reduce gun violence.

Planned Parenthood provide sexual health services, screening, abortions & much more. They are essential for many Americans who cannot otherwise access affordable healthcare.