Category Archives: Ranty ones

How I feel when you ask me to perform femininity

I’m not the kind of woman you’d describe as ‘petite.’ Or ‘dainty’ or ‘pretty’ or ‘feminine.’ In fact, I’m a little bit sensitive to the idea of being ‘feminine’, and any suggestion from helpful friends and family if they recommend I get my hair cut more often or try on a pretty dress: it’s not just that I don’t want to be feminine, it’s that I truly don’t think that I can. What came first: my refusal to perform femininity, or the knowledge that I’ll never be able to?

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Personal sex stories: writing, narcissism and the value of ‘I’

Join me on a journey of self-discovery, which begins with a spiteful commenter calling me a narcissist and ends with me explaining why personal sex stories are awesome and this commenter can suck on my hugely-inflated ego.

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If you love me, the least you can do is believe me

There are three parts to this story. You don’t have to believe them all. In fact, if you don’t believe any of them it doesn’t matter much to me. There are many of you I love and respect, but few who I rely on for the kind of intimacy I’d expect of a partner or friend. But if you’re my friend, my lover, or anyone else who cares about me, I need you to believe me when I tell you about my life.

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Relationship maintenance: I won’t buy presents for your family

Relationship maintenance is an important skill, and I don’t want you to assume it’s ‘my’ job, just because you’ve seen other women doing it for their partners. So no, I won’t remember that you have to get up earlier than usual next Thursday for a meeting. I won’t book you in for a haircut, or ring your Mum every Sunday to let her know how you’re getting on. And I will not buy birthday presents for your family, wrap them carefully then sign your name on the accompanying card.

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“There is no such thing as feminist porn!”

Is there such a thing as ‘feminist porn’? I’m genuinely surprised to learn that some people think there isn’t. It’s quite a philosophical question, encompassing as it does the definition of what ‘porn’ actually is, and prompting me immediately to wonder: if there’s no such thing as feminist porn, what would self-pleasure look like if the whole world was feminist?

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