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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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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Blogging Can Be Hard

Blogging is really therapeutic. I can't explain why; just trust me on this one. It is. However, it's not without problems. You get used to pouring everything out- and then you get to something that you can't blog about. That can be a good thing, or a bad thing, or neither, or both. Whatever, it is so so difficult. It just makes things in your head more muddled, and you begin to feel a little like you're going to burst because you can't get all the words out. Blogging is hard.

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23) Wear a scary piece of clothing in Bristol (crop top or shorts)

Post taken from Facebook. Would also like to add in- this was such a big anxiety thing. I hate my body so so much, to the point where I refuse to weigh myself because I know it will become too much of a big thing. I cannot look in the mirror and like what I see. I have big anxiety issues surrounding my body. For me, this was a really important item on my list of 50 things, and I'm so so pleased I accomplished it!!!

 

As a society, we are conditioned to believe that the way we look defines us. We cannot escape from it, and we cannot win- people are constantly being slated for being too fat, too thin. We are judged, instantaneously, based upon how we are presented. Does it really matter how we look?! Aren't our looks the tiniest parts of us, merely vessels to the amazing beings we are inside? I believe so, that true beauty is something felt, not seen. However, that does not grant me immunity. I still spend time looking in the mirror, turning this way and that, labelling myself as fat. I still try on clothes only to force back tears, acknowledging that my body is not perfect, that I should be hiding it in the best way possible, not letting people see my insecurities. I can tell from sight whether a dress will hide or accentuate my stomach, and if it's the latter, I keep a wide berth. But you know what? I've had enough. I am done with looking in the mirror and hating what I see, I am done with letting society dictate what I should and shouldn't be wearing. I want to be comfortable, and I want to be happy. When I body shame, I do no good- I'm not changing anything, I'm just making myself feel more down, and I am sending out the message to others that I too believe we are defined by our looks, that those lucky enough to have good bodies have a monopoly on clothing that the rest of us are denied. I am so sick of being physically scared by clothing that could show off my imperfections. So, I've decided to challenge that. For the first time since I really began to notice the hold society has on me, I have bought a pair of shorts. That in itself was a big step, trying to find a pair that I deemed okay. However, the next part was infinitely scarier. Today, in weather that made the thought of jeans unbearable, I stepped out in the afore-mentioned shorts, showing off my size 12-14 thighs to anyone and everyone. It was scary. I'm not going to lie. At first, I was sure everyone was looking, was sure everyone must be inwardly grimacing, wondering why on earth anyone larger than a size 6 would choose to show off their body. However, as the day went on, I relaxed. I met up with friends, and we had a lovely lovely afternoon. I quickly felt comfortable, and I realised it was okay. I was wearing clothes I had chosen to wear, not because of the dictations of society, but because of what I wanted. I wore shorts, and it was fine.
I guess I should probably tie this up with some kind of point. Here goes. What I am trying to say is that it doesn't matter. Size 6, size 16, size XXS to XXL, it does not matter. Your beauty is never defined by the label in your clothing, and the size of your body does not dictate what you are and aren't allowed to wear. You can choose to cover your body up from head to toe, you can choose to wear a bikini- but make that your choice, not the choice of others. Your body is an amazing thing- it's keeping you alive, after all! Don't waste time hating it, berating it for not being what can only be achieved through photoshop and careful photography. Do not turn away from that beautiful dress, your head full of negative thoughts about how it will make you look 'bad'. You like it? You get it, you wear it! I am learning to love my body, and I hope others will love theirs, too.

(Also, y'know what? This outfit made me feel fab. I looked like any woman enjoying the sun and being carefree. I like that.)

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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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What About My Mental Health, Michael?

You know what pisses me off? Society's conceptions of what constitutes success and failure. You know what really pisses me off? The fact that, all too often, I find myself unconsciously conforming to these conceptions.
This could apply to lots and lots of scenarios; however, the one in question is A levels, and the expectations surrounding these. For a lot of Year 12 students, there seems to be a huge amount of pressure to do four AS levels (not BTECs, never BTECs), getting as high a grade as possible- As, preferably- in each, all the while putting on a perfect front of the immaculate scholar, never struggling with anything. Why? Because, apparently, that is best, and that is what society requires for us to do well, to get good jobs, to be accepted. However, I think that this is a pressure that has no founding. Sure, doing well in AS exams is a good thing; but it's not the be all or end all. There are so, so many other things that are just as important- for example, being a healthy and happy well-rounded individual. Why aren't we pushing that one, Gove?
The reason I'm talking about this now is because, over the past few weeks, I have truly felt the pressure of these expectations. Since starting my AS levels, I've been struggling with Biology. I tried everything to do better, and it wasn't working; the only thing that happened was that I got more and more stressed- it was having a serious negative effect on my mental health. Of course, the obvious choice was to drop it- but that option felt barred to me. Dropping it would mean admitting that I couldn't cope, that I was struggling with it, that I wouldn't get my four AS levels, as expected of me. On the other hand, I knew that, at best, I would get a D or a C in the final exam. Being a perfectionist, I knew that that would upset me a lot. I felt stuck.
Then, one Friday, I was sat in Biology, learning about oxygen dissociation curves, trying my best to concentrate on something I really really wasn't interested in. For some reason, our class went off topic, and started discussing fraternal and identical twins. Intrigued by this, I stopped listening to the lesson, and concentrated instead on looking up intersex twins: and that's when I had my bingo moment. I realised how stupid it was, to be sat in a class I didn't enjoy and wasn't doing well in, when there were so many other interesting things I could be learning about. Though part of me still felt it would be admitting defeat, a larger part was reassuring me that it would be a good idea. I would no longer have to stress over the subject, I would have more time to spend on my other subjects- and I would be able to do my own learning, finding out about equally important things that I found interesting.
After a bit of debate with my head of year, it was agreed that yes, dropping Biology was going to be the best option: and a few days later, I was no longer a Biology student. However, even to the end I felt like I was being pressured, with my head of year saying that I could get an A. No, I couldn't. I knew I couldn't, and it annoyed me that this was still being mentioned when dropping the subject had all been okay-ed (however, in my head of year's defence, she is lovely, and I know she didn't mean to annoy me by saying that!).
And now? How do I feel about my decision, a week or so on? Overwhelmingly proud of myself. My choice might not be something I can talk about on my CV, it might not be something that other people will understand my feelings about, but it's still one of my proudest moments. I realised something was wrong, and went against society's expectations and my internalisation of this to make a choice that was right for me. For me, it was a big step in terms of recovery, too- in a lot of the counselling/therapy work I've done, the standards I set myself and their impact on my mental health have been something that's come up. In this case, I actively changed my mindset to improve my mental health. I made a big change., one that others might well disagree with. And I am proud.

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43) Get Something Changed

As I mentioned in my huge recap post, I celebrated Halloween by going to the fancy dress roller disco that I've been to before. It's a really lovely place, with a nice atmosphere, run by lovely people. However, this Halloween they almost let me down very spectactularly.

Firstly, let me introduce you to the song 'Blurred Lines', the hit by Robin Thicke. Most people have heard it- if you haven't, and you want to listen to it, go ahead and look it up. It goes against my principles to post it here. My problem with it? Well, to start off with, it's all about sex, with obvious references to sexual acts. Though I don't find this a huge issue in a suitable setting (eg, far away from kids etc.), it gets worse. The song continuously objectifies women, making them into nothing more than objects used for sex. My thoughts to this are pretty much 'what even?'. I thought we'd actually progressed from the Dark Ages. Does it still come as a shock to people that women are people too?! And yet, it still gets worse- many people have found that the song has connotations of rape, and pretty strong ones at that. Project Unbreakable (trigger warning- descriptions of sexual assault) did a photo-set showing things rapists have said to their victims, and lines from the song; this article (same trigger warning) sums it all up pretty well. Overall, the song is just pure filth, and should not be allowed- in fact, some universities have completely banned it.

In case you haven't guessed by now, the lovely family-friendly roller skating disco and Blurred Lines collided pretty spectacularly. Whilst we were having lots of fun skating around, surrounded by children of all ages, someone thought it would be a good idea to suggest the DJ played Blurred Lines. Which he did. Causing me to have a huge moment of what the hell is going on?! Unfortunately, there was little I could do about it at the time as it was so loud, and I had no idea about the protocol for asking for a song to be turned off etc. Therefore, I resolved to email the company as soon as possible, and ask for the song to be banned from their events completely. I did this by leaving a message in the online guestbook, along with my email address.
They got back to me a couple of days later, claiming that the song they played had nothing to do with them, as it must have been requested by a customer. Very annoyed, I replied, saying that they must have a list of songs they won't play (eg, due to swearing), and that this song should have been included in that, particularly with the rape references and the amount of children present at the disco. They then said that they couldn't ban every song that might upset someone, so couldn't ban this one. In fact, they compared it to a love song. A love song. By that point, I was hugely angry, and conveyed this in my email. I possibly also threatened to tell as many people as I could not to use their services. That might have happened. Anyway, their email back was, thankfully, a lot more satisfactory- they finally realised that the song isn't acceptable, and agreed to ban it. It took a while, but we got there in the end. And whilst it's small, it's still a feminist victory for me :)

Also, these are quite tongue in cheek, but check out the feminist versions of Blurred Lines- admittedly the videos go 'the other way' in terms of sexism- however, it is pretty obviously tongue in cheek- I highly doubt the people who made them believe that men should be treated like that, they're just turning the situation around to show what it's like. Also, the lyrics are beautiful. If sweary.

Defined Lines

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Dates.

Something to think about today?
Homosexuality has been around as long as homosapiens themselves. And yet? It wasn't until 1992 that the World Health Organisation stopped classifying homosexuality as an illness. That's 21 years ago, which might seem like a long time ago- but we're now in 2013. There are far far more years where homosexuality was classed as an illness.
Another shocking fact? Apologies for the LGBTQ Nazi persecution weren't given until 2000. That's over 50 years after the end of Nazi persecution. And sure, you can argue that the persecution they faced was on no scale to what the Jews faced, but they were still hugely persecuted over something they had no control of. And yet the apology took that long.
And we like to think the world is developed, and has been for a long time.

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Things To Think About

***This is a scheduled post, using facts from globalissues.org.***

I want you to take a moment to read this, to answer the questions truthfully to yourself, and think about the facts. Although this isn't completely up-to-date, the general point remains.

Consider both yourself and the people you know, and what you/they have said or though recently...

     Complained about having to go to school? In 2005, about 72 million primary school age children in the developing world were not enrolled in school. Before you think they're lucky- this means that 72 million primary school age children were less likely to be able to read, write or do basic sums, making the future jobs available to them extremely limited. 72 million primary school age children who's futures were narrowed before they had a chance to widen.

By the year 2000, it would have taken less than 1% of the yearly worldwide weapon expenditure to put every child into school. This didn't happen.

     Annoyed because you don't have enough money to buy the latest technology or fashions? When these figures were released, at least 80% of humanity was living on less than around £6.57 a day. Almost half the worldwide population (at the time, over three billion people) were living on under £1.64 a day. A randomly selected pair of Abercrombie jeans costs £78. Using those two figures, over three billion people could live for almost 50 days- using the money spent on one pair of jeans.
 To add to this, UNICEF said that, at the time, 22,000 children were dying every day due to poverty. Over a year, that amounts to 7,810,000 deaths due to poverty. That's the London O2 arena filled 390.5 times.
     Think that you had an underprivileged childhood because you didn't live a celebrity lifestyle? Of 2.2 billion children estimated in these figures, 1.9 billion were living in the developing world. Of these, 1 in 5 didn't have access to safe water and 1 in 7 had no access to health services. 1 in 3 didn't live in adequate shelter.
That's not a childhood.
     Finally, in 1998, $8 billion was spent on cosmetics worldwide- when an estimated $6 billion could have provided basic education for everyone in developing countries. The amount spent on cigarettes purely in Europe could have provided basic education, water, sanitation, basic health/nutrition and reproductive health for women for all in developing countries- with $5 billion leftover.
     I could go on, and on, and on. But if that hasn't made you think, I don't know what will.

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Minor Grumble (Or Two)

Don't expect loads from me this week- I've got both work experience and my swim teaching course (day two done and I've surpassed exhausted). However, I do have a minor grumble that I need to get off my chest!!
Today on the course, something was mentioned about someone who tried to commit suicide by drowning themselves in a swimming pool. Someone mentioned that it would have been very busy, and I pointed out that that was possibly part of the person's reasoning. Two other people then said very firmly that there wouldn't have been any reasoning- and that has really really irritated me.
People make so so many assumptions about suicide/self harm/EDs/mental health etc. etc. Both generally and in this situation, they can be so wrong and so hurtful.
Firstly, generally speaking- each person is different. Therefore, anyone who has experienced the things listed above- or other things- will have had a different experiences. They might have similarities, but they will not be identical- so making sweeping statements is pointless and potentially harmful. Furthermore, no matter what experience you have had of any of these, you are no less of a person. You deserve basic human rights- including either equality or equity, whichever is most appropriate. You shouldn't be judged for what you have been through.
With regards to this situation in particular- being suicidal, or acting on this feeling, does not always mean that you are being unreasonable. It doesn't always mean you cannot reason. Yes, for some people, their sense of reasoning/judgement may be affected. For others, they may have put a lot of thought/reasoning into this. That doesn't change anything. Saying that no one who is suicidal can have put reasoning into their arguments has the potential to be very hurtful- and potentially damaging. For some- note I don't say all- their feelings could hold extreme amounts of reasoning. Being told that they cannot have reasoning, and the insinuations of unrationality etc. that come with this, could potentially make a very sensitive situation even worse.
Ugh. There's so much more I could say about this, but I need to go. Just please, I implore you, think before you speak. You never know what someone has experienced.

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Old News- But Still Awful!

I know these are old... But I forgot to post them before... Ooops... Anyway, these came out around the same time as my Hollister rant and they just add fuel to my fire!! Firstly, shocking comments from the CEO of Abercrombie & Fitch (which owns Hollister)- there's so so much wrong with this I just don't know where to start! How can this be allowed?! However, once you've read that and had your belief in the world reduced a little bit, also read this letter and give the woman a gold star!

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I Warn You, This Is A Rant.

Don't you just hate those people who only ever talk to you when they want something?! Soo many people think they can just take, and not care anything about anyone else. Plus they say that they'll 'always be there for me' and all that, but when I actually need someone, they run a mile.I know that I should probably take it as a compliment or something, that they're turning to me for help, but it would be nice to feel as though that wasn't my only function!! I could go on and on but I need to revise so ugh! :@

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Genuinely Cannot Believe This!

Read the first article.
How?! Just... There's so so much to be learnt from that book, how the hell could you want to censor it because of a couple of passages?! It's no more than anyone could find out using a mirror anyway.
Now read this. Someone who knows what they're on about.

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Women In Politics

This is really interesting- it's a table showing numbers and percentages of women in parliament internationally, ranked by country. Rwanda is first, with over 50% of women in their parliament; other high-scoring places include Andorra, Cuba, Sweden, Seychelles, Senegal and Finland. Meanwhile, the United Kingdom is joint 58th place (around 22.5% for both 'houses') whilst the USA is 78th (18.8% average between the two 'houses').
In the last 'rank' are Micronesia, Nauru, Qatar and Vanuatu, all with 0% of their parliament being female.
Considering that women account for roughly 50% of the population, this is pretty shocking- only 2 places actually have parliaments made up of 50% (or more) women. I wonder this is due to women not wanting to be in parliament or not getting to be in parliament; I suspect both, interlinked.
Food for thought, anyway. Has this world really progressed?

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Hollister

Went to town with a few friends today; got some nice stuff, had a very good time. However, it also gave me something to think about...
I'm sure that most people have heard of Hollister, though if you haven't you can click to the Wiki link. Basically, it's a (very expensive) clothes shop, generally aimed at teens/young adults with a very heavy 'surfer' theme. It's also quite popular among my friends; personally, however, I dislike it.
Why? After all, I have admitted to liking (some of) the clothes, and I love the 'smell' of the shop. It's the less material- excuse the pun!- things I'm against.
Firstly, as I mentioned a few lines up, Hollister is extremely expensive. Want to buy a basic t-shirt? You could be looking at around £20. If not more. At worst case, hoody prices can reach up to £50; jeans go up to £80, and even bras peak at £39, with pants being the cheapest- currently £5 for one pair. To give a comparison, my current 'outfit' (t-shirt, hoody, jeans, underwear) cost about £25 altogether. Theoretically, I saved up to £169 (I say theoretically because in practice there's no way I ever would have bought the Hollister equivalents in the first place).
Think of all the things you could do with £169. That's 16900 penny sweets. There are families who could live on that for roughly 105 days*. That's almost a third of a year.
To make matters worse, more and more people are starting to see that cost as being justifiable. When my friend checked the price of a top today (a nondescript thing that's currently fashionable) she said, '£22- that's pretty reasonable'. Since when did £22 become pretty reasonable for a thin top?! I could find many similar tops much, much cheaper. But stick a bird logo on it, and it's like it's made of gold. When I pointed out that it wasn't 'pretty reasonable', I was told that it's good quality and will last a long time. Try telling that to my £3 tops that have survived years of my clumsiness. That top looked like it could have been carried off by the breeze. Furthermore, this was followed by the assertion that 'the price is good for Hollister'. Apparently, that makes everything alright. Can they not see that they are literally eating out of the company's hand?! I don't care that it's good for Hollister, because Hollister isn't good.
Want to know what makes me angriest about the cost of the clothing? The part that had me visibly shaking and feeling like I was going to be sick?
They use sweatshops. They charge hugely extravagant prices, and they use sweatshops.
I cannot remember the last time I was this angry.
Another grudge I hold against Hollister is their employment procedure. Of course, we all know that in today's developed world, it's considered completely immoral to discriminate in employment, right? Wrong.
The people you see walking around Hollister- the sales assistants- aren't actually employed as such. In fact, their job title is 'model'. Which, technically, means Hollister can employ only the people they consider to be 'model-worthy'. In the past, this has meant that there has been discrimination over race, gender and physical features. This is so so wrong- yet, with the term 'model', they can basically get away with it.
Let's investigate this a little further. I think the least shocking fact I found about this was that males who are prepared to take their tops off are paid more. Firstly, this means that they're being employed based on what their bodies are like. This alone is awful. Secondly, they're being rewarded for adding to over-sexualisation and negative body images. It's sending a message out saying that it's a good thing to take your top off, and attract people in this way. It's wrong.
Furthermore, there have been cases of obvious discrimination in employment, where jobs have mainly gone to Caucasians. I thought we'd got over the idiocy that having a different skin colour or being of a different race makes us completely different. That belief was outdated from the start. Come on, world, we're better than that. Aren't we?
Similarly sickeningly, there have been several reports- and law suits- involving Muslim sales assistants- sorry, models- who, when employed, were told that they could wear their hijabs so long as they wore them in the 'correct' colours. However, in each case, though they followed this, the employees were then informed that they were breaking the 'Look Policy', and had the choice of removing their religious headwear or being fired. What choice is that?! Thankfully, in the cases I read about, the employees managed to sue Hollister.
More on the 'Look Policy': all employees have to wear either Hollister clothing or clothing that could be Hollister. They don't get given any of this, though they get 50% discount on some pieces. They have a strict set of colours they must abide to, and incredibly strict hair/jewellery etc. policies. Hair must be left down and make-up kept natural (small mercy).
Then there's the whole concept of employing people based upon looks anyway. The next time you're near a Hollister shop, go in (with a torch) and look at the 'models'. As far as I can see, none of them come close to being average. They're all incredibly stereotypically 'good-looking'; men with 'fit' bodies and shiny white teeth, women with long hair and stick-thin bodies. There are several huge problems with this.
Firstly, it makes it likely that the employees will feel pressured into retaining the right look to keep their jobs. This could lead to self-esteem issues which could become fairly serious. Whenever I go into Hollister, all I really want to do is hug each and every employee, and tell them that it's okay to be perfect.
Also, sure, the people who work in Hollister are good-looking. But, to me, they're a world away from the people who make up my life. And, I'm afraid, for me, beauty is most definitely in the eye of the beholder: it's the ordinary beautiful people who I would count as being truly beautiful.
Secondly, the majority of people who enter the shop will automatically compare themselves, generally leading to feelings of inadequacies- which, again, can fuel bigger problems.
To be honest, I could go on for a lot longer about Hollister and it's problems. However, I'm just getting more and more worked up, and it's probably time to stop.
I hope you've- I don't know, got something out of this, or realised just what's hidden by something that seems so innocuous.
I wish I could change so many things about Hollister. But, as it's been pointed out to me, there are just too many people who refuse to see the negatives. However, if I've made at least one person change their mind on this, that will be more than enough for me.
What are your opinions? Comment below! :)

*Statistic worked out using poverty facts and a money converter

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Exasperation

Ugh. I've got a maths exam next Thursday and I've spent the last few months with a teach who I can't understand at all. Which has resulted in a day full of maths and a very bad mood.
Seriously, when a whole class is complaining about a teacher, surely that's a sign that something needs to be changed- not an excuse to tell everyone that 'they'll get used to it'. Okay, fair enough, maybe we will all love him by the end of the (school) year. But that's five months away, and the exam is now. The GCSE exam that everyone keeps reminding us is so important. The one that, unless I manage to pull off a miracle, isn't going to have a good result.
Argh!!!

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The Real Message Of December 25th

I can't sleep; I never can on Christmas Eve. However, tonight it's good. It gives me a chance to be quiet, and to think, and to realise the true message of Christmas.
Firstly, I'm still not sure about religion. Which for me is fine. It's okay to be unsure, and that's totally personal to me. I try to be really really open-minded when it comes to religion, so I'm going to try my utmost not to offend anyone!
For me, there are three ways of looking at Christmas, though one person can hold a mixture of these views.
Number one- taking the Nativity story literally. As in, Jesus was born and that's why we celebrate.
A second view- that maybe the Nativity was real, maybe it wasn't, but Christmas is a time to celebrate humanity and virtues and everything.
Finally, there's the view of seeing Christmas as just another celebration, with no real meaning etc.
If you're reading this and thinking I've not included you, as I said, there's going to be people with mixed or different views- this is just some basic Duck Philosophy.
Personally, I'd class myself as group two with some group one. I'm undecided on whether I take the Bible/teachings literally, but (for the majority) I take the lessons, and try to follow those. Which, really, bring me to the point of this post.
Regardless of whether you believe in Jesus or God; regardless of what religion you follow, or what your beliefs are. Christmas has a fairly simple message, and if you don't remember that, you don't really remember Christmas.
It's a time of peace. A time of love, of giving, of harmony. A time to think of others, a time to be thankful. Christmas is a time when miracles can occur- soldiers can lay down their weapons, and play football together. Families can eat, drink and- most importantly- be merry, but be merry together. Peace, love, harmony... That's what Christmas really is.
People get so hyped up now about what they're getting for Christmas, it feels like the real message is being forgotten. *Why* do we give gifts? Well, to show and share our love. It's not about who's got the latest phone or how much your presents cost. It's about the love that goes into it all.
It's also a time to think of others- today I've done a lot of thinking about people who have lost loved ones, or soldiers, or those alone. If I could do anything to help them, I would. At this stage in religion, I tend not to pray- but I will hold onto hope for them. That, for me, is the biggest thing I can do.
I also hope that, one day, Christmas feeling will carry on all year round- not the presents or the food, great as they are. Just the humanity that comes into play. If we can do it once, we can keep doing it.
So, tomorrow, please please have a good day. But please also remember the true message of Christmas, no matter what your beliefs are, or how deep you go into it. Just remember.
Merry Christmas. I love you.

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David? David Who? Oh. That David.

On Thursday afternoon, myself and nine other people in my year (including G but not BB) were given rather intriguing letters. They were permission slips, needed for an event today involving a 'Q&A session with special visitors' along with 'possible press coverage'.
As you can probably imagine, there was school-wide uproar. Who were the special visitors, and why were they so important as to require press coverage? Countless theories and possibilities were discussed and, inevitably, a million and one rumours were soon present.
The teachers, who were under heavy inquisition, did nothing to abate these rumours- if anything, they were the ones starting them off! Science claimed it would be the royal family; English went for Obama; Music said Rolf Harris, and the Principal himself went for Les Dennis.
Things were increased even more on Friday, when we found out that they'd booked out one building and one classroom for the event. A whole building and some?! Just for a few visitors?! This was obviously something out of the ordinary.
On Friday evening, one friend- G- was claiming that he was certain of the identity of the guest. He had been assured by a specific source of who it was, but- of course- couldn't tell us. BB said he was making it up for attention- I thought it was the source joining in on the rumour mill.
Finally, it got to Monday morning. As we walked into school, we saw that a whole car park had been reserved for these 'special guests'. The atmosphere in the school was one of anticipation, with everyone saying who they thought it would be, or who they would want it to be.
After a while, I was told that I needed to go to the main hall at 11:30, where all would be revealed. Eager with anticipation, I started a countdown straight away, agonising over who the hell could be worthy of such circumstances.
In English, at about 10, I got my teacher to pinky promise to tell me who it was at the first possible opportunity, which according to him was 10:30. However, when I put my hand up on the dot of half 10, he said he'd just received an email postponing the announcement. 11:25, he said. At the earliest.
Thankfully, the suspense was over at breaktime, a mere ten minutes later. Hundreds of students filled the foyer as the special guests filed in. To our surprise- and dismay- they were none other than David Cameron, Nick Clegg and the rest of the Cabinet.
My immediate reaction was to swear repeatedly. 'I've got a Q&A session with him!! F***!!'. (Why the dismay? Well, I'm moderate-left. As far as I'm concerned, our current Prime Minister is one of the worst things to happen to our economy).
The overall reaction to our 'lovely guest' was very negative; maybe Mr Cameron didn't choose the best of audiences. Students (who dislike the eBac/uni fees) and teachers (currently protesting against, well, most things- as my tutor said, it's hard to be a Tory teacher)? Well done, Mr Cameron!
Anyway, in the time between finding out who we were meeting and starting the Q&A, there were many... derogatory comments about the various people (who, at the time, were locked away in a Cabinet meeting). My favourite was a comment a teacher made that if I managed to really annoy Mr Cameron, he'd do my final exam for me. I wish!
The actual Q&A was fairly predictable. Firstly, we were given time to come up with questions. I had several, but was told to rephrase; my comment about asking expenses questions was also ignored. Ho hum. One can but try! With the university questions being snapped up left right and center, my final question was: With the English Baccalaureate being introduced as the ideal pathway, what are the provisions and/or options for students with a creative leaning?
Once a fair number of us had questions, we were taken over to the smaller building, where cameras etc. were set up for the actual session. After a short briefing, we were told Mr Cameron would be over in five minutes- presumably with other members of the Cabinet- and left to chat. Five minutes passed; so did another five, and another five. Eventually, Mr Cameron entered. Just Mr Cameron. No Nick Clegg, no other Cabinet members.
I would try and summarise what was said; however, some of the questions asked were so trite- 'what school did you go to', 'what football team do you support' and 'what's your favourite colour' among others, that it seems quite unnecessary. He repeated a couple of times that the things he was saying would be 'unpopular, but right and true'. Unpopular, yes. Right, definitely not. True, only because he makes it so. The main things were that he skirted round delicate subjects, stayed away from letting sixth formers ask questions and boosted Mr Carter's ego- like he needed it. When asked about the English GCSE debacle, he said that was 'out of his control'. He's the Prime Minister. Sore subject, perhaps?
He also said- and this quote has been repeated throughout the day, each time to tuts and noises of disgust- that 'In order for you to get a fantastic education, you need to pay. Therefore, the £9000 yearly fee is not unacceptable'. No. There is no way to rationalise such a fee. I disagree, Mr Cameron; except, of course, we were forbidden- by the one and only David Carter- to disagree. Which caused Mr Carter's final statement ('What a great debate!') to be a huge lie. There was no debate, because we were told we could only agree. Says a lot about today's society. Give someone a title, and they're immediately right.
I digress. Basically, if I disliked our esteemed Prime Minister beforehand, I dislike him even more now, an opinion which has been strongly agreed with and a little applauded. In the words of a crazy music teacher- 'At least you learnt something important today!'. No sarcasm :)
Also, my question remained unanswered; we were told we had an hour and a half, so I was keeping timing to ask it in the middle to end. We got 45 minutes. Then Mr Cameron was out of the door, and into his car, accompanied by security. Thank heavens for that.

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Argh :@

Dear K,
When I first met you, I really didn't like you because you were loud and annoying. However, I didn't tell you that- I gave you a chance. Then, I was glad I gave you that chance; I soon changed my opinion of you, and we became 'best friends'. I tried my best to be there for you as much as possible, knowing that you were going through difficulties.
A while back, we had a huge argument, and we both said things we didn't mean, but still made up. I was thankful that we worked through it. We also both found out a heck of a lot about each other- stuff that no-one else knew. I counted myself as being lucky to have someone like you.
Eventually, you came out, and I was the first person you told. I was happy for you as you seemed so happy yourself, and I of all people know what a momentous thing it is. You continued to tell pretty much everyone, despite my advice that it wasn't something you should do without a certain element of caution. Two days later, you told us you were mistaken, and expected us to carry on as if everything was normal.
You didn't think how we'd feel. It felt as if it was all just a game to you; just a joke. It's not a joke. It's something I've gone through, something thousands of people go through every day. Didn't you listen when I told you that you had to be sure, or people would get confused?
Even after the arguments over that, we managed to repair our friendship. However, things gradually got worse and we started to drift apart. You annoyed a lot of people, and I often felt like it was up to me to try and make sure everyone got on.
I still regret what I said that night. I over-reacted, and said things I shouldn't have done. On the other hand, you also said things that were out of order, and I can see now that there was fault on both sides.
When I heard that you'd quit, I was upset. I knew it was partly my fault. I apologised over and over again, but to no avail. I spent ages blaming myself, which had a negative effect on myself and my actions.
Although I was talked out of blaming myself quite so much, I still felt bad. The only thing I could do was try and move on, though whenever a group of us met up I'd text you and include you. I couldn't cut you out completely.
Finally, after you claimed to be busy for the hundredth time, I asked you as politely as possible whether you'd prefer me to stop inviting you. After all, it wasn't like you were talking to us. However, you thanked me for inviting you, and I used the opportunity to ask you, yet again, what I'd actually done to deserve the cold shoulder I'd been recieving.
You told me that I belittled you, and made you feel small. Although I had never ever meant to do this, I apologised yet again. You didn't accept the apology, and we ended up in an argument.
If you'd ever been a 'true friend', maybe you'd realise how much you hurt me, and how I wasn't in the best position to start with. All you've done today is hurl abuse at me, and make me feel very low, which isn't something I need. Therefore, I've decided that that argument will be our last. I don't see the point in remaining in contact with someone who makes me feel so bad.
Maybe our paths will cross again someday and things will work out a little better. Until then, goodbye and good luck.

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