Ireland

You did good mate. So pleased and proud of everyone who voted to ensure that the right thing happened!! Another day, another step towards equality; another big step of love. (I'm totes not crying) (Oh but I so am) (And now I have to cope with Eurovision)

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RIP

This is my second post about Becky Watts. The last time I wrote about her, there was still hope- a desperate sort of hope, but hope nonetheless. Now? Now there is nothing. This isn't going to be a well-crafted piece about murder, this isn't going to be anything that isn't just a jumble of emotion- for there are no words. How on earth can you begin to sum it up, that at some point in the last fortnight a young girl's life was taken away?! She was 16- approaching the cusp of adulthood, a beautiful individual with hopes, fears, wishes, dreams. She had a future, a life to live- places to go, people to meet. She had a story yet to be written. But, for whatever 'reason' (as if there really could be one), all that was taken away. I just can't get my head round it, how anyone could do that, could end someone else's life. Not just that, but to actively destroy her remains and hide them... It makes me feel physically sick. For the whole of Bristol, the past two weeks have been a horrifying experience. I don't know anyone who wasn't following what was going; every new piece of information was met by a city of listeners- now a city of mourners. There is very little we can do now, except to hold Becky's memory in our hearts and minds, to think of her family and friends, the torture they must be going through; and to try to hold each other, until the dark begins to rise.

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Close to Home

 Last Thursday, a girl called Rebecca Watts went missing. To all intents and purposes, it's just another story of another missing person- albeit a teenager, but still just another missing person. It happens all the time. However, for myself and countless other people that I know, this is different. Rebecca Watts lives in Bristol. Not just in Bristol; very close to where I live. Though I don't know her, I know people who do. Chances are that I've walked past her at some point in the last few years. Of course, we are all hoping that she is found safe and well soon, but with recent happenings in our area (there have been several worrying and suspicious followings and the like), it's all too easy to take a negative view, to believe that the worst may have happened. I cannot imagine what Becky's family must be going through, nor what could be going on for her. She's been gone a week, and the only thing her family can do is search, hope and wait.
Geographically, this is incredibly close to home- and it hurts. This isn't some story we can brush off because it doesn't affect us. This is searches going on in our area, this is one of the places I call safety being featured in the news. It's terrifying, and I can't stop thinking about it. It makes me want to hold everyone I love, and to pull them as close as possible. Becky, and your family, my thoughts are so with you at the moment. I hope you know that there is a whole community behind you, hoping and praying for you.

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Dear Leelah

Dear Leelah,

Can you hear me, wherever you are? Even if you can, I doubt my voice is loud enough- there are so many of us speaking to you now, Leelah. So many people loving you, and supporting you, and remembering you, and trying to ensure that you didn't die in vain. Can you feel it? It's a bit too late now, isn't it. The world can support you now, but we can no longer save you. What kind of world is it, that makes someone so young so unable to be herself that she cannot be at all? Not a world I'm happy to live in, Leelah.

Did you know that you were going to become so well-known? That your name- your name, not a name assigned to you on the basis of your genitalia- was going to surge across the world? That's what it's done. There are petitions, groups, vigils- everything. For you, and for all those who followed the same path as you- and for all those who may feel that they, too, have no option but to kill the self they have to be, in hopes that we can stop them. If we can save just one person, Leelah- I cannot say that that will make your suffering worth it, for it will not. Nothing will compensate for the hell you must have gone through. But we can stop others going through the same, and that is something. We need to work together.

Your Tumblr's been deleted, Leelah. Did you know that? It made me sad, when I found out. I guess your parents did it, not content with silencing you enough. They've been posting tributes to a boy called Josh. They're missing the point- what they've lost is a beautiful daughter called Leelah, who they were too scared to love. That's what it boils down to, darling. The fear of being different. The fear of being wrong. I wish I could have held you, Leelah, when they put you through that silent hell. I wish I could have told you that it was they who were- and are- wrong. Not you. Never you. But Leelah, they haven't won this time. They can delete your Tumblr, they can call you whatever ignorant name they want- but they're too late. Your final speech to the world- in which you, so bravely, spoke only the truth- is everywhere. It's out of their control. We are working as hard as we can to make sure that the world knows, about a girl called Leelah.

You will not die in vain. We will rally, and we will do whatever we can to change the awfulness of the situation so many are in. All the while, we will remember what we are fighting for- not ourselves, but for the voices of those who are shouted down, told they are wrong, banned from being themselves. We will fight for each and every single person who has to look at themselves, and see someone they do not recognise. We will make sure that we reach a day in the future where it is not what we are that counts, but who we are.

I love you, Leelah Alcorn. I hope you're safe and free now.

Becky x

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Girls Who Like Girls

I've been meaning to write a post about coming out for a while. In fact, I started writing the introduction just before life got super-busy. This morning, I read an article that made me write everything I wanted to blog about in the form of a Facebook post. Two pigeons, one stone?! Anyway, this is a really important post for me. It's taken me the best part of this morning, and the article that triggered it (found here) had me both shaking with anger and in tears. This is stuff I've never written about or spoken about before, and it feels good to get it all out. We need to find a better world, you know, and the only way we can do that is by building it ourselves.

Hello Facebook. This is going to be one of those long statuses again. I know you're probably getting sick of them, and in a way I am too. But I'm not about to stop. I've got something to say, and if social media has become the medium for sharing that, then so be it. I have spent this morning shaking with anger, in tears because of something I read. This is me, shouting back.
I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Becky. I'm a girl, and I like girls. It sounds pretty simple when I put it like that. For me, it's just a fact of life. Well, it is now. It wasn't always. When I was first realising my sexuality, I didn't think those two facts could ever live in harmony. I couldn't see any positive examples of girls who liked girls- to like girls, you had to be a boy. That was what the world was telling me, through it's hetero-normativity and lack of representation of 'normal' homosexual relationships.
I thought that that's what I'd have to do- become a boy. I want to pause here and say that this is by no means anti-trans. If someone identifies as a gender that's different to their sex, then I will always totally accept that. However, I didn't identify as a boy. I didn't *want* to be a boy. I've always identified as and wanted to be a girl. Thinking that I'd have to change entirely, just to fit in with society and to like the people that I liked, forced me to question my entire identity. It was incredibly confusing and terrifying, and it resulted in me repressing everything that I felt. I forced myself to be straight, which in itself caused more confusion, but it seemed better than the alternative. Over time, I even managed to convince myself that I was straight- meaning that I had a second period of realising I was different, and coming to terms with that. During this second period of realisation, I decided that I would tell no-one- I made a second, more specific decision to repress my sexuality. I would live my life in a way that would allow me to fit in, not in a way that would allow me to be myself.
Thankfully, and obviously, in the end this was not the case. I met people and experienced things that made me slowly realise that actually, it could be okay. These instances prompted me to go looking for positive representations of homosexuality, which in the end I found. Slowly, very slowly, I made my way out of the closet (albeit firstly as bisexual, for which I completely blame Johnny Depp)- and found another problem. When I got to the point of realising that Johnny Depp was a red-herring, I came out again, this time as a gay female (with weakness for Johnny Depp). Note the terminology: a gay female. As most people called me, a lesbian, and to all intents and purposes they're synonyms. To me, and possibly to many others, they're different. You see, lesbian is a loaded word. Lesbian is still used as an insult and an unnecessary description; it's shortened to 'lez' and to 'lezzer' in a derogatory fashion. It's a word that, still, is said in lowered tones. So often, the representation of lesbians in the media is a negative one. I once read an article about a couple who murdered someone. I think the article mentioned that they were lesbian far more than the murder. What kind of impression is this giving out? To me, lesbian was a dirty word, and not one I wanted to be associated with. I've had to struggle with myself to accept that word, and to reclaim it as a description that fitted me- in it's simplest form, 'a homosexual woman'.
Why am I sharing this? Why now? What point am I trying to make? Well, this morning I woke up to read the news article linked to this post. It relates to Doctor Who, and the 'lesbian kiss' portrayed on Saturday night. This news article made me angry, and it made me sad. The episode showed two women kissing, without the labels of 'lez' or 'lezzer'. In regards to the whole Jenny/Vastra relationship, I don't think the show has ever alluded to it as a 'lesbian relationship'. It's just another relationship. By having Jenny and Vastra kiss, and by treating it in this open way, Doctor Who are doing completely the right thing- they are 'normalising' the idea of homosexuality.They are helping the next generation of children see positive homosexual relationships in a commonplace way. Yet instead of recieving praise for this, the BBC have recieved complaints, such as those written in the article. One went as far as to say that the kiss was 'not particularly welcome in a family show aimed at kids'. You're right, it wasn't 'particularly welcome'. It was *hugely* welcome. It was a step in the right direction. With more of this, we might avoid the situation we're in, where homosexuality is still seen as being abnormal, where those questioning are devoid of the support and representation they deserve and need- something that can be hugely, hugely detrimental. We need to change. We need to change *now*.
I am Becky. I'm a girl who likes girls, and that's okay. I know that now- so I need to fight for those who don't.

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A Level Results Day

My Facebook post from today-

If you got A level results today, then a huge huge well done. It doesn't matter how you did; the fact that you did them is enough. Remember, however, that you're not defined by the dot of ink on the thin piece of paper. You are an amazing person, with thousands of talents and strengths. You don't need qualifications to prove that- wherever you're aiming, there are multiple routes to get there. You're made of the same atoms as the stars, and they shine brightly without exams. You're fabulous, and I love you x

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RIP Robin Williams

Earlier this week, Robin Williams died. Though not really aware of him personally (aside from one time where I confused him with Robbie Williams), a lot of my friends were fans of him, and my Facebook became filled with the news. However, the main theme initially was one of confusion. 'How did he die?' people were asking, through comments, through Twitter. The answer appeared unanimous: reports were differing and no-one knew. It was only later that a consensus seemed to be reached.

Robin Williams, an esteemed actor and comedian, took his own life. This is believed to be linked to his battle with depression, but may well have had many other underlying causes. It's a huge loss, and a huge tragedy. Unfortunately, many are not treating it as such- and it's for this reason that I feel, once again, as if we're all just repeating ourselves.

Anytime someone in the spotlight chooses to take their own life, we are reminded once again of the stigma surrounding mental health. It's a shockingly big problem- in the course of one year, 1 in 4 people will experience a mental health problem- yet one made all the worse by the discrimination that can be found everyday. The negative attitudes and misconceptions are such that I could dedicate a whole blog to them, and still not look at even a large part of the problem. So, instead, I'm choosing a few of the things I've heard in relation to Robin Williams, and explaining why they're wrong.

The first one was the wholly predictable: 'how selfish'. It comes up time and time again- how selfish it is to kill yourself, to hurt your loved ones, etc. However, there is a very different way to look at this. Imagine that you are hurting, and struggling- so much so that it feels like everything you're doing is wrong, and all you can see is the pain you are causing other people. To you, it seems like the best thing you can do is to leave their lives completely, to make things easier for them. To you, you are trying to help everyone else. Is that really selfish? (Note- I am not saying that suicide is noble, nor am I saying it is right. To anyone who reads that description and feels that that rings true, that they feel it would be easier for people to cope without them- it would not be. Never ever, not at all. I'm just trying to explain to those who continue to remain ignorant.) In addition, when people who kill themselves, or try to kill themselves, their own pain is often forgotten. To have reached that point, they must be struggling pretty badly. They are going through their own hell. Think of that, not of whether their decision is selfish.

Another word used to brand Williams- most notably by Fox news- was 'cowardly'. Again, please do not take this in the wrong way and say that I am advocating for suicide, because I'm totally and completely not- but it is not cowardly. Mental illness is all-consuming. It is terrifying. It is bigger than the person it affects; it takes over. Fighting it is so damn hard, and every minute can take all you have not to let it take you completely. Some of the strongest people I know have- or have had- mental health problems; some of them have contemplated or attempted suicide. That does not make them cowardly, not in the slightest- it just means that, at the time, that's the action they felt they had to take. Similarly, Williams was not cowardly. He did what he felt he had to do. I wish, I so so wish, that he hadn't- but he has, and he is still not lacking in courage. Considering that he'd faced problems with addiction and mental health before, and, despite that, he still went out there, entertaining people and being strong, I'd say he was the opposite of a coward.

Moving on, there was the questioning of Williams life. He was famous, well-liked, celebrated- what did he have to be upset about? Well, he had depression. He was ill. It's the same as saying that *insert name* is famous, well-liked, celebrated- what did they have to get cancer/heart disease/etc. about. Mental illness does not discriminate, it affects anyone and everyone, just like any other illness. There is no rhyme or reason, and that's what of the things that makes it so difficult.

Lastly was the friend who told me about a woman on the bus, who's response was that depression isn't a problem. Apparently, had Williams just spoken to his friends and family more, he would have been fine. Thankfully, my friend gave the woman a very good lecture on why she was wrong. A version of it as told by me- as said above, depression is an illness. It's not just feeling sad, or just having a problem. You can talk and talk, and that might help, but it equally might not- like chemo might work for some cancers, but not others. Depression is so complex, and it cannot be solved easily. Moreover, it can't be dismissed, either- it is a problem, and it's a huge one. If you don't understand this, then you've probably never experienced depression, or watched someone you love experience it. That would make you lucky in that respect. Take my word for it.

It's late now, and I need to sleep, so I'm going to wrap this up. Please- don't listen to the media's reporting on this matter. Don't listen to the people who brand Williams, who think they know best. Listen to those who actually have an inkling of the problem. Williams deserves our respect and praise for the life he lived; his family deserve our support in their time of grief. He lived well, he fought hard. RIP, Robin Williams.

I'd also like to add- if you are struggling in any way, please, please seek help. I cannot stress this strongly enough. It can feel like there's no-one there and like the world is against you, but there are always people or places to turn to- for example, check out the Samaritans or Childline, or speak to a friend, or even comment below and I'll arrange to contact you if possible. There is a brighter tomorrow on the horizon, and I love you x

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Expanding The Box

When I was younger, someone read me the book 'The Last Polar Bear', by Harry Horse- not the original, if I remember correctly, but an adaptation with beautiful pictures. 'The Last Polar Bear', for those who don't know (and I've never come across someone who does) is a children's book about a character called Grandfather, who is upset by the sad-looking polar bear he sees in the zoo, so travels to find them in their natural habitat. As a traveling companion, he takes his dog Roo, a character based on the author's actual dog, also called Roo. After I was read the book, I fell in love with it- I thought Roo was hilarious, and it spurred me on to wanting my own dog. I became a huge fan of 'The Last...' series, which comprises four books in total (Polar Bears, Gold Diggers, Castaways and Cowboys). I remember watching the animated cartoon of 'The Last Polar Bears'- we had it on video, and I watched it enough that when I think of it I can recall quite vividly the sound of the readers voice. At the end, it had an interview with Harry Horse, featuring Roo- they both seemed very lovely. Evidently, the series meant a lot to me- I remember the books being moving, yet also funny. In fact, when I was in Year 5 and we had to write a letter to a famous person, I chose Harry Horse, writing to thank him for his amazing books.
If I chose to look, I'd probably find that letter lying around somewhere. However, I'm not choosing to look, for the same reason it never got sent.
When it came to actually sending the letters off, we had to go into the computer suite and use the internet to find the relevant addresses. I typed the author's name into Google, and prepared to write down the address. Unfortunately, it wasn't the address I found. Instead, it was a news article, reporting on the death of author Harry Horse, also known as Richard Horne. It wasn't just Harry Horse who'd died; it was also his wife (who had multiple sclerosis), and their two pets. According to the news article, Ms Horne's condition had been deteriorating- and instead of waiting till the natural end, when they would be parted, the pair had decided to choose their ending. Very tragic, very romantic.
I still remember sitting in that classroom, looking at that computer screen. I remember going to my teacher and explaining that I couldn't send my letter off, because there was no-one to send it to anymore. I knew what suicide was, I knew was a suicide pact was. I think I even knew enough to understand why they might have chosen to do what they reportedly did. I wasn't angry. I was just very sad- I couldn't see how this amazing author could suddenly not exist.
Fast-forward a year or two. I hadn't really thought of the whole thing in while, except to feel a bit sad about it occasionally. However, one day, for some reason, I decided to Google Harry Horse's name again. Maybe I was hoping that it would really all be a mistake. I was too old for his books by then- but I still wanted some sort of reassurance.
What I found was the opposite of reassuring. It was a Daily Mail article (this was when I didn't know which newspapers to trust, and which were prone to sensationalising) about Harry Horse, and about his death. According to the article, the lovely children's author I'd watched multiple times on video had a far darker side to his character, being- apparently- a known drugs user. It got worse. The romantic, tragic death? A mercy killing, of sorts. A murder.
In my whole life, there have been two occasions where something I've read has made me feel incredibly physically sick. That was one of them. To me, it felt like everything I knew had been turned around. Harry Horse? A murderer? But I'd seen him on video, I'd read his books. I loved them, I loved him. He couldn't be. I buried my memories of him and his books in a box in my head, somewhere I wouldn't have to face them.
Another flash-forward to the present day. Now, of course, I know that what the Daily Mail says probably isn't true. There is very little knowledge of what might or might not have happened that night. Maybe it was a pact, maybe it was some kind of mercy killing. Maybe it was something else. Regardless, I still can't look at the books I have of his. The child I was won't let me- he was my hero, and then he was not. At the same time, I can't let go. I have the picture book of 'The Last Polar Bear' in my room. I am not going to read it- but I am not going to give it away, either. It will remain in the box inside my head.
Why am I thinking of this today? Because I have lost another hero. When I was six years old, my favourite songs were 'Jake the Peg' and 'Two Little Boys'. Every Saturday morning, my dad would take me to walk the dogs at the dogs home, and whilst we were walking, he would sing to me. Sometimes he would tell me about the person who wrote the songs he was singing. Myself a strong animal lover, Rolf Harris- the animal lover to beat all animal lovers- was definitely a hero. I cannot claim to have watched all his programmes, or to have followed him completely, but he was up there.
Rolf Harris inspired generations of people, from art lovers to animal lovers to fans of his music. He has let us all down- but none more than the women he abused. My heart goes out to them, to all they endured and to the silence they suffered in, feeling as if no-one would believe them.
For now, Rolf Harris will go to do his time (5 years, which, in my opinion, is not long enough). There will almost certainly be more people come forward to share their own experiences. Those affected will be left to rebuild their lives. The rest of the world will mourn a hero they thought they knew: his art will become unmentionable, his various monuments and honours will disappear. For me, it's another addition to the box, the container of old treasures that are now too complicated and too sad to face.

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5th July: My Hero- And Why

This post would have been a lot easier to write had I done it before Thursday. However, on Thursday, someone said something that got me thinking about two people who were sort-of childhood heroes, who now make me feel ill. No prizes for guessing who one of those is. So that made me wonder whether we really should make people into our heroes, because you never know what's going to happen. It's something I've been chewing over, and it's something that I'm going to write a bit about in a separate post.
At the end of the day, despite cases where things go wrong, I still have heroes. I sat down to write this post, and I got through about three of them, and then I stopped, because I realised it was impossible. To write about each and every one of my heroes would take years, and it's a constantly growing list, and I'd still miss people out somehow. I'll leave you with this- my heroes do not wear capes. They do not have super-powers. If you asked them, they would say they have never saved any lives. But they have, for each and every one of them has saved me at some point. My heroes are all around me, some near, some far- some I come into contact with every day, some I've never met. I love them all.

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IDAHOT

For a breath-takingly amazing piece on the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia, check out BB's post. I'm not going to try to compete with that. Have some creative writing based on the day instead.

We are the people. We are your children, we are your siblings. We are your classmates, your colleagues, your friends, your acquaintances. We are the people you pour your heart out to at night, we are the strangers who smile at you in the street.
We are not the fags, the trannies, the queers. We are not the poofters who deserve to be shot. We are not your stereotypes- we are not your lipstick lesbians, not your metrosexuals. We are not your charity cases. We are not your conversation pieces.
We are struggling in silence, we are screaming for change. We are fighting, battles you will never have to understand. We are living, lives as complex and intricate as any other, our beings made of the same stuff as stars. We are breathing, in and out, in and out, the air the dinosaurs exhaled. We are loving, and loving, and loving.
We are one. We are individuals. We are here, whether you like it or not, and we refuse to leave.
We are the people. We are human. We are just like you.

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With Thanks To BB

BB- who is fabulous and amazing and inspiring whether he accepts it or not- absolutely blew me away with this piece of writing about International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia. It is beautiful, and says everything, really. BB, you da best.


Today is the international day against homophobia and transphobia. This day is more important than you might think, and I’m going to try explaining why that is.
We live in a world where many countries believe it to be a criminal offence to be gay (seventy-seven according to the charity organisation AllOut) and ten countries believe a same sex attraction to be worthy of the death penalty. Many others, such as Russia and Uganda allow often-fatal anti-gay violence to go unpunished. So maybe we're looking good in our happy little equal marriage endorsing United Kingdom. But there's more to it than that. I want you to imagine that you have grown up knowing that you are gay and that there is nothing you can do to change it, then I want you to imagine walking down a corridor of a secondary school and hearing nothing but homophobic abuse as a rite of passage. "Oh, it's only a joke," they may say, but how does it make you feel? If you came out, do you think they'd support you? Has it occurred to you that people carry their true nature as a secret to the grave because of these jokes?
Young transgender teenagers have nobody to understand them it seems. Even teachers will tell students to "man up" when they are still discovering for themselves what being a man really means, if anything at all.
For a young gay child, all they know is that they are different and that they don't want the "ideal" that television is forever feeding them. The first they hear of other people experiencing the same feelings as them, is through the tormenting tongue of the playground bully. It's a sick reality that I struggle to believe has not been confined to the history books.
It is these trademarks of society that mean that lesbian, gay and bisexual youths are four times more likely to attempt suicide than their heterosexual peers. 30-40% of the LGBTQ community have attempted suicide at some point in their lives. Apparently among young gay people, suicide claims the lives of more than 1,000 every year in the USA alone. Self-harm amongst gay teenagers is prevalent in 56% of the community. When more than half of a community is deliberately injuring themselves, then surely it is more than necessary to consider how we are treating that community. It is also critical that we remember that these figures only account for members of the community who are out of the closet. Those who are not open about their sexuality face a whole host of further complications that can lead to mental health difficulty. This needs to stop. Lives will be saved.
Perhaps I have a bias, as a Christian, you might expect me to have strong opinions on human rights (and inhumane wrongs). Well, I do, and does it 
matter if I credit these beliefs to my Christian faith? Even if you don't believe it to be the word of God, the Bible has a lot to say about human rights that we should be applying to the gay rights movement as well. Proverbs 31 verse eight says "speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves." I think that is a lesson for all of us, that on behalf of those who are too afraid to challenge the world, we must do so ourselves, wherever we see homophobia, or any kind of discrimination against the vulnerable. So feel free to like this or share this as you see fit, but most importantly, speak. Speak now and speak loud before you no longer have a voice with which to speak. It is our only hope.

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Mental Health Awareness Week

This week marks Mental Health Awareness Week. It is such a hugely important week: in the course of one year, one in four people will experience some kind of mental health problem. And yet, so much of mental health remains unspoken. We are so quick to sympathise with someone who has broken a bone, or has a headache, or suffers from some other physical ailment. So why, when it comes to mental health, do attitudes change so wildly? It is no different.
The stigma surrounding mental health surrounds us constantly. It is in the way we ask each other 'how are you?', yet never expect anyone to give a truthful answer. It is in the way that those who are struggling are mocked, are seen to be less worthy because of something out of their control. It is in the way we find it acceptable to use phrases such as 'you're so bipolar' and 'I just want to kill myself'. It's not acceptable to say 'you're so cancer' or 'I just want to have a heart attack'. Again, it is no different.
This year's Mental Health Awareness Week has a focus on anxiety. This is something I really relate to. My struggle with anxiety is ongoing. It is not an easy battle: my anxiety has evolved, and grown, just as I have. There have been times when I have felt like it was taking me, when whatever was going on in my mind made me question everything. Everything. One of the hardest things about mental health problems is that it feels as though your fight is with yourself. I cannot express how impossible that is to deal with- I can only hope that, if you don't understand, then you'll never have to.
My anxiety means that there are things other people take for granted that for me are huge. Things that 'normal teenagers' can do, like going to parties or talking on the phone, are things that, for me, are really difficult.
This thing, this anxiety- it is something that a lot of people cannot understand. They will tell us to 'snap out of it', they will tell us 'not to stress'. Do not listen to them, for they do not know what it's like. You are entitled to feel exactly how you feel, and to react accordingly.
Personally, a large part of my recovery has been through challenging those thoughts that try to shake me down. I live by the motto that I should overcome a challenge every day. Sometimes that is big, like going to a party or similar. Other days, that means talking to someone unfamiliar, or getting through a two-minute exchange and feeling it went well. Even this is part of that- putting something out there that could attract criticism, because I'm determined to show the world that it's absolutely okay not to be okay. Life is a series of challenges, but I am getting there.
There are some people for whom the visual of what I have experienced will forever limit their view of me. The thing is, that's not going to stop me. Every day I am slightly stronger, and I am going to prove every one of those narrow-minded people wrong. I am so much more than my past and my experiences and my mental health.
What's more, I am going to succeed for those who haven't been narrow-minded: this is for those who care, those who have stuck with me, those who love me when I cannot love myself. This is for those who actually ask me if I'm okay, who continually smile and say hello, reminding me that I matter. Watch this space, for I am going to make you proud. I'm going to fly.
For anyone struggling with their mental health- I consider myself to be proof that it does get better. It is not easy. Far from it. But it is possible. I promise you, keep going, for one day you will see the sun, and you will smile and smile until you want to burst. For those who are supporting someone with mental health struggles- again, it is not easy. But whenever you wonder why you're doing it, whenever you want to give in to sheer frustration, remember that they are still the person you love. Their struggles do not define them, and better days are coming. Finally, for the people I'd consider the minority, who have no experience of mental health issues. Be kind. Do not be scared of what you cannot understand.
And to all- mental health is terrifying, and consuming, and shrouded in a stigma that is fuel to the fire. But together we can hope for a day where, if mental health issues must still exist, then the stigma that surrounds them is gone. We can hope for a day where we can be empathetic to everyone, not just those we choose. We can hope for a day where awareness weeks such as this are merely relics of days when we were less aware, and not a call for openness taken by only the select few. Help us all get to that day: refuse to use language that could hurt others; keep an eye on those around you; don't be scared to offer someone a hand. All you need to do is care.
It can and will get better.

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BringBackOurGirls

Eight more Nigerian girls have been abducted, bringing the total number to somewhere around 250. That's around 250 girls who have been taken away from their families, who are going through hell, who do not know if they have a tomorrow. There are thousands more girls who are terrified, because for all they know it will be them next. If one child goes missing in the UK (or the USA), it becomes the topic of discussion anywhere and everywhere- you cannot move for hearing about it. So far, very few people I know have mentioned these girls. Their latest news story is not even on the top ten of the BBC's most popular stories. Why is it so different? They are still human, they are still our neighbours, they deserve our love, our thoughts, our hopes. As humans we talk about the things that are important, the things we think should not be forgotten about. If, as the case may be, we can do nothing more for them, they deserve our conversations, a world of people refusing to forget, a world of people giving them importance. My sisters, I can only hope that you are found soon, that somehow you are saved from this torment. Until then I will think of you, hope for you, with every thing that I do- it might make no difference, but at least I will not be forgetting you, at least I will not be turning a blind eye to the inhumanity you are facing. I will talk and talk until there are no more words. I will make sure that everyone possible hears about you, that everyone who comes into contact with my little world is aware. My sisters, I will love you, and love you, and love you. If I can do nothing else, I can do that.

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Ms.

Today, I had to apply for a DBS (the 'new' CRB- I need one for swimming!). That's kind of interesting, I guess. However, the thing that I'm blogging about is a much smaller part of that whole thing- that, for the first time ever, I registered myself as a 'Ms' as opposed to a 'Miss'. What's the difference? Well, 'Miss' refers to an unmarried female; when a woman gets married, she takes her husband's name and becomes a 'Mrs'. Meanwhile, males are born as 'Mr (Sirname)' and stay that their whole lives. There are various problems with this. In a nutshell, it implies possession- men are allowed to be their own person, with their own sirname. Women, however, keep their father's sirname, with the title 'Miss', until they take their husband's sirname, when they become 'Mrs'. Either way, they do not have their own sirname; they are merely a derivative. Using 'Ms' means that the sirname isn't changed, and means that women can reclaim this somewhat. In addition, the whole thing with women being identified as married or unmarried just due to their title is something I don't get. What's the point? Women are being reduced to their relationship status, and, more importantly, to their other (male) halves. This really really annoys me. Call me radical, but I've always seen women as being people in their own right, deserving of their own names that denote them as nothing more than their own person. On a further point, the word 'Miss' often has connotations with weakness etc., relating both to gender and to the state of being 'without husband'. Like, what even?!
I decided a long, long time ago- before I even knew what feminism was, or that it was a thing- that I would keep my name when I got married (if I ever get married, but this is a discussion for another day). Deciding that, from now on, I am a 'Ms' is just a logical progression from that, really. I am my own person, with my own name, and I feel that 'Ms' reflects this far more aptly than 'Miss', just waiting to be made into a 'Mrs'.
How do I feel about this decision? Very happy, very very empowered, and strangely grown up!

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Uganda.

So this week Uganda's passed an awful awful anti-LGBT bill, and, as usual, much of the world appears oblivious. Don't stay ignorant. Click here to find out more bout the bill, and sign the petition against it. I would explain more, but I'd just get worked up, and, to be honest, words can't express how angry and upset this bill has made me. Everyone deserves a chance to love, and to be themselves. Think of all the time you've spent with your partner, or talking about who you fancy with your friends, or flirting, or whatever. For LGBT people in Uganda, that could result in life imprisonment. Please, please- if you've got time to be browsinghis blog, you've got the time to sign this petition. Think love.

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I Believe In Love (And My Views On Boycotts)

Today marks the beginning of the 2014 Winter Olympics, held in Sochi, in Russia. Anyone who has been following the news recently will know what the problems with this are. For those who aren't aware, it can be explained very simply- in Russia, the government are, at the moment, refusing to treat people equally. They have imposed all sorts of laws on people who identify with LGBT, with Putin (the current prime minister) going as far as to constantly link homosexuality and paedophilia. The government is doing it's absolute best to ban any sort of 'homosexual propaganda', particularly any aimed at children. There are several questions that come from this. I hope I can answer them.

Why is this so bad?
Well, there are a lot of answers to this. I guess the main one is that they are stopping people from being who they are. It's a huge, huge violation of human rights. It's telling people that they are wrong for feeling what they cannot change. It's also making things worse for a group of people who, traditionally, have faced problems. Banning 'homosexual propaganda' among children means that the next generation are going to carry on the trend of believing that homosexuality is wrong- after all, that's what they'll have been taught. That means there may never be an end to this. It also means that LGBT youths are in hugely risky situations: they're being told that everything they feel is wrong. Growing up and discovering who you are can be hell enough as it is; being told that who you are is banned is making things infinitely worse.

Why are they doing this?
Because they're scared of anything different to what they're familiar with. And for those who say that this is a rational response- not that long ago, it was okay to persecute people with dark skin. That was because people were scared of anything different to what they knew, and we know now that that was not okay. This is the same.

Why are they wrong?
Oooh, how long have you got?! They're wrong because, as I said above, being different is absolutely okay. It is nothing to persecute, it is nothing to be scared of. Can you imagine a world where everyone is the same? It would be sooo boring. At the end of the day, love is love- if you love a guy, good for you. You love a woman? Also good for you. You love both, or neither, or you choose not to label yourself, or you've defined it in your own way? That also is good for you. It doesn't matter: it's the love that counts.

What are the implications on the Olympic Games?
There are two stem answers to this. The first is more obvious: that the LGBT athletes in Sochi are at risk. Putin has, supposedly, guaranteed their safety as long as they stay within the confines of the Olympic village. This means they cannot leave the village and associated areas- they're prisoners. Also, Putin is not known for keeping his word. For all we know, these athletes are risking their entire safety, just to compete.
The second answer to this is slightly more complex. Essentially, by going along with the Games and not saying anything, it's like saying 'yes, we know what you're doing, but we're going to ignore it'. By not saying anything, we are ignoring the plight of everyone struggling under the homophobic regime. By not saying anything, we're telling Putin he can go ahead. By not saying anything, we're being as bad as him.
There have been a lot of links drawn between these Winter Olympics and the 1936 Berlin Olympics- when Hitler showed off 'his Germany'. The parallels have to stop here, and they're only going to do that if we speak out.

Why is boycotting not the answer?
Imagine spending your whole life training for a huge event that only comes every four years- and then, when that event comes, for you to either not take part, or not get the recognition you deserve. That is not fair, and we cannot do that to the amazing athletes purely due to the evilness of one government. It's not their fault, and they cannot be punished for that. In addition, boycotting it would look rude, and would give Putin reason to complain. There are far better ways of showing him that we disagree, such as getting every country representative to wear a rainbow badge. It sounds small and subtle, and that's partly the point- it's nothing anyone can really complain about, but it shows that we will not allow this to go unnoticed.

Why do I care?
Before I answer this, why do you not care? Love is the one thing that binds us all together. If we're not fighting for our right to love, what do we have left? And for me, personally? Well, because I am gay. I know what it is like to realise you're different, and to face up to that. I have really really struggled with accepting myself- but now I am there, and I know what I'm fighting for, and that makes me lucky. I may have had some difficult times due to my sexuality, and there may be more to come- but I have never had to face my whole country telling me that my very being is wrong and flawed. I cannot explain my relief in knowing how lucky I am, or how much I feel for all those who are in that situation. I just want to rescue them, and take them somewhere they can be accepted.

Why do I care? Because I believe in love.

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International Day Against FGM

Two related things have happened today. Firstly, my aunt sent me a link to this petition, asking for help to tell Gove that FGM education is required in the UK if we want to make any progress with it's reduction. Then, when I sent the link to BB, he told me that tomorrow is International Day Against FGM. Since Gambia, this issue has been something really really close to my heart, and I would be so grateful if you were to follow this link and sign the petition. If you need further persuasion, here's why it's important to me:

Last year I went on a trip to Gambia, where FGM is common. On the way back from a day trip, we saw the 'Circumcision Men' in one village, entertaining the villagers in their costumes. One of them jumped towards our van and danced around. Safe inside, we laughed, enjoying the spectacle. Then something caused us to look to the other side of the road, to see a line of terrified young girls- and it was no longer funny. They were young, maybe between 4-6, roughly the same age as my sister at that time, which, for me, made it all the more hard-hitting- I felt such relief that this was something my sister would never have to encounter. FGM is no joke; it's a hugely serious issue that needs to be tackled head on. I wasn't able to help those girls stood awaiting their fate- but I'll do what I can to help others.

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LGBT History Month: Rainbow Map!

To kickstart the month, take a look at the first link on this page- it's a PDF with a world map, colour coded to show the human rights situations of LGBT individuals all over the world. In this 2013 version, UK stands at the top, with a 77% 'respect rate'; at the other end of the scale is Russia, with 7%. I really cannot wait for the day that all these countries are green with a 100% tattooed over all of them!

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LGBT History Month!

Today marks the start of LGBT History Month! Obviously, it's something pretty important to me- and with the Russian Olympics also taking place during this time, it's become even more so. In hard times, we need to look at all we've accomplished to remind ourselves that we can do amazing things. Every week, I'm going to post at least one (possibly more!) things relating to this month- I really hope you enjoy, and hopefully find out some things you didn't know before :)

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I Support Love.

'What you feel is what you are, and what you are is beautiful'- Slide, the Goo Goo Dolls

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