A Gram of Immorality

Marilyn Monroe the globally renown Hollywood temptress once said, a woman's clothing should be tight enough to compliment her figure, but loose enough to show she's a lady…which documents the long, twisted and multi-faceted relationship that has marred fashion and female sexuality for centuries.

It began with the flash of an ankle, the glimpse of a knee and the heightening of hem lines, but arguably today’s underwear has become outer-wear, and my mother's rule of cleavage or legs (never both), has become more passé than American Apparel ‘Disco Pants’.

Quite frankly, I've seen Kim Kardashian’s breasts more than my own, and for young girls, knowledge is accrued by sight, whilst behaviour is condoned by socially accepted cues.

Yet arguably, there is no clear distinction what is age appropriate and what’s not these days, and I see no difference between the style sold to teenagers, to that sold to someone older. Which begs the question where how does female style distinguish itself?

Some people may find it ironic that I’m choosing to discuss a topic which I myself might be accused of perpetuating with some of the photos I post on Instagram, which is a conundrum I do acknowledge and deliberate over before I hit share…But as an educated and opinionated twenty five year old woman, even I’m shhhtumped on the whole navigational aspect of body confidence vs. moral depravity.

So really, what chance do young and impressionable teenage girls have out there in a confusing and hypocritical world, which contradicts itself continuously?

With even larger repercussions than posting alone, what women put on social media has a more powerful ripple effect for the modern day female, especially in consideration of the following:

Is it liberating to wear what we want?

Is it diminishing to expose ‘too much’ skin?

It is a reflection of female empowerment to dress and accentuate our bodies?

Or, are we all just senseless victims of superficiality?

In an American study of adolescents, adult volunteers viewed moderately sexualized photos of girls as less competent, less intelligent, less moral and less self-respecting. But in a visual world where photo and video content reigns supreme; in a world where female influencers support social movements such as ‘Free the Nipple’…just what is a young girl supposed to do or think?

Again, it reverts back to bench marking a large social media following as the pinnacle of success and popularity; because the more we do that, the higher we raise the bar for women in the superficial style stakes, where the only thing left to do is out sex each other.

But as women, we do not need to be told that talent, intellectualism, ambition, humour, kindness and generosity are the most important qualities in anyone regardless of gender. Because, in a world where sex sells, it’s no coincidence that the most liked post on my Instagram is one where I’m wearing my boobs as earrings (sincere apologies Mum).

Yet, I know I’m a lot more than my body. I have more substance than my work outs, and I would like to think I’m a little more than one-dimensional in the way I interact with my social media.

However, are these ‘alternative’ posts popular? No. Does it bother me? No. Would it bother a teenager seeking social acceptance? Yes.

So wholeheartedly, I write this piece in the immense defense of teenagers, especially our young girls.

Generation Z have no social, moral or supportive navigational help to steer them through these online struggles…and before we start judging anyone online, male or female, I suggest you take a look back into your recently liked photos, and see what kind of culture you’re bench marking for today’s youth to follow suit…

The only knowledge that guides me in the confusion of it all, is the fact that as women I believe we’re defined by our decisions, regarding both our sexuality and topics beyond…And that’s the cold hard truth which either works to our advantage, or our handicap.

So, all I can say to any young girl is choose what you decision you may, but make sure your social media is a holistic representation of who you are – not just a one dimensional showcase of your face and body.

In the words of William Shakespeare "To thine own self be true.”

Halfway to happy

Just in case no one told you recently, you’re wonderful and capable and worthy of all your hopes and dreams.

Have you ever stopped and thought, “How lovely it is to be anything at all!”, even when the courage to take risks and the discipline to keep trying seems like a momentous uphill struggle.

…Because despite what you’ve been taught, you are not obligated to an unsatisfactory present. Every day we have the ability to change our circumstances and strive for something more than the moderately pleasant.

Happiness doesn’t lie in the consumption of socially constructed contentment. It flourishes in the independence of thought, and the authentic reflection of self.

The most important gift any of us can preserve from childhood, is the commitment to our dreams. Yet reassuringly, you'll find that you're not the first person to be distracted, confused and frustrated by the sickly sweet temptation of stability and comfort.

Yet regardless of what obstacles you’ve faced, the failure you have incurred, or whether you’re currently weighed down by a heavy sense of under-fulfillment and inner turmoil; you’ll never deal with anything more difficult than the negative thought processes of your own mind.

Wonderfully, dreams are not tarnishable. They don't care about your past or mundane present. You are not allocated a certain amount of ‘shots’, and their possibilities will always hold infinite potential for you whenever you are ready.

You see, our ambitions are never the problem. Just our interpretation of what they actually are. So as long as we keep looking to money, social conformity, popularity and conventional stability for true satisfaction, few of us will ever be captured with an intoxicating sense of purpose.

And really, what with the time-consuming nature of it all; school, university, a good job, savings, marriage, our own home and children; by the time we get the things we have been taught we want; our youth is gone, our hearts are heavy, our bones ache and the time wasted is irretrievable.

So if not today, or tomorrow, then when? At what point in our lives have we scheduled our dreams in the grand scheme of it all?

Truthfully, I’ve never been more disappointed in myself than when I’ve been alone, feeling low in the emptiness of my own heart after a long day of doing what I thought I should.

The only version of self our conscience will ever let us accept, is the one we hold our self secretly accountable to. The person who despite everything, continued to pursue the things they hoped, dreamed and always sought to achieve.

Block. Delete. Unfollow - The Untold Story of The 21st Century

When it comes to our mental health, often the pleasure of social media is so meagre, its delight in its own conventions so forced and false, that it has become almost the perfect opposite to anything social.

In real life we generally don’t interact with people we don't like, or with those who make us feel negative or remind us of something painful, yet we probably have these people in our online social network. 

Getting back to basics, the fundamental idea behind social media was that the people we follow and be-friend online are expected to contribute something positive to our lives. Whether it’s a person you know and care about, or someone you find interesting and inspiring, our connections are by origin, supposed to be a welcome and uplifting addition to our day.

But arguably, as social media has progressed, it has transcended into something beyond our emotional capabilities. In many respects, it has surpassed our logic and emotional sanity; resulting in an ingrained social anxiety, and an ensuing generation of lost and unfulfilled souls looking for answers and validation online.

Largely, it’s down to a disconnection between how we behave in reality, and how we conduct ourselves virtually. For example, when we began to bench mark a large social media following as the pinnacle of success and popularity; we neglected to think about how this network would affect us in return.

The truth of the matter is that we spend WAYYYYYY too much time on social media for our interactions to be anything less than fanfuckingtastic. But, because we’re so digitally in touch with the people from our past and present, we have completely lost sight of a simplistic pre-requisite to happiness; the beauty of letting go of the things which no longer serve us.

As a natural extension of self, of course we’re going to be affected by our social media network, and as far as our emotional intelligence goes, I wonder how much of our thought processes are willfully our own these days?

We’re the equivalent of a social media sponge, and although it’s been around for quite some time now, there has yet to be any kind of emotional blueprint to guide us through the woes and throws of social media. Essentially, we’re left in a no-man’s land to wing it where we see fit. So, when it comes to the navigation of the digital realm, it’s every man, woman and child for themselves…

Frederick Buechner wrote “My story is important, not because it is mine, but because if I tell it anything like right, the chances are you will recognise that in many ways it is yours too.”

….an analogy which inspired this blog.

An obvious assertion is that, throughout our lives, we’re connected to people through relationships of circumstance. This includes the people we are thrown together with at school, university, work or even a mutual friendship; but these in-organic relationships do not mean that this person warrants a place in your head or heart, for countless digital years to come.

However, because we are primitively 'people pleasers' at heart, we exercise a ‘shut up’ and put up’ philosophy when it comes to redundant people in our social media network. It’s a lesser vocalised fact that some people just become obsolete to your happiness and growth. We naturally distance ourselves from these people in real life, so why do we make it weird online?

If you’re as foolish as me, for a long time you’ve probably found yourself mindlessly scrolling past people you can no longer relate to, and accounts which no longer contribute anything positive to your life…

But I know what you’re thinking, or more accurately feeling. It’s kind of like social suicide to cull your followers and ‘friends’. People take that shit seriously, because let’s face it, we all take social media very seriously…although some people are just too cool to admit it!

That’s because deep down, an unfollow isn’t just an unfollow. It’s a statement, and it makes people question themselves. In five seconds flat, it can escalate from a culling exercise to a complete atomic bomb, and a ‘personal beef’ with someone you probably barely see or talk to.

So I can understand the reluctance. The hesitation. It’s much simpler not to take action. There’s no awkwardness or weirdness, or altercations or strange tangible tension to concern yourself with. You just go on co-existing on an app with someone you probably have little to no mutual interaction with. Just an accepted and unfruitful ‘social’ co-habitation.

Buddha, the wise and curvaceous genius that he was, described this phenomenon long before Instagram stories were even a twinkle in the sky. He said the root of all suffering is attachment, and arguably, social media is the exact materialisation of just that.

It benefits almost no one to maintain online ties with an estranged friend or ex, and the network that goes with them. It’s a little bit like self-harm to continue to live in the shadow of a friendship or relationship’s former glory.

…But that’s exactly what it is. Former. Departed. Prior. It no longer exists in the context it once did, and as much as it may make you squirm, question your sanity and feel a little silly, when it comes to the stickler of a situation surrounding blocking, deleting and unfollowing people who no longer serve our emotional and mental health…why do we struggle to let them go?

At the heart of the matter, people either inspire you or drain you on social media. They either motivate you, make you laugh, or make you feel bad. And of the latter, it’s not fair to yourself to be held hostage to your past. We all change. Life changes. Circumstances change, and there's no preventing that. The only thing we can control is ourselves and our behaviour, and whether we choose to prolong a story which should have ended a few chapters ago.

People are no longer your memories of them. They’re something entirely new and unfamiliar. And it’s not a case that these people are bad, or have necessarily done something terrible. Sometimes they’re just a reminder of something you want to move on from or outgrown.

In case nobody has told you, digital escapism is the polar opposite. It’s an intensification of our biggest challenges and insecurities, and if you’re not cropping your social network to only be exposed to the best, brightest, kindest and most inspiring people you know, then you’re absorbing a lot of unnecessary negativity.

To ‘Block, Delete and Unfollow’ is empowering. It’s about regaining control and it’s a sign of strength and quite frankly maturity.

They say a self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living, and above all else, life is about adaption. There are seasons and reasons for everything, and as you grow up, you find out who you are and what you want. And sometimes you realise that the people from your past should stay there…

You can't sit back and put everybody's life ahead of yours, and you are not responsible for anything else other than your own contentment. To look after your mental health in a world obsessed with social media is the quietest, simplest and most powerful thing you will ever do, but it’s increasingly hard in a world which is trying to de-sensitise you from using logic to navigate happiness.

Social media is all too much and not enough at the same time, and it’s a catastrophic mistake to look for happiness and validation from other people in your network. Most people probably have no idea who you are, or what you’ve been through, how you feel every day or the battles you're up against. They might woefully suck the happiness right out of you, or interact with an insincerity that feels fake and forced. But it no longer seems right to be a victim of something you can change, and when you figure out that ‘Online’ doesn’t exist anymore and that you carry it everywhere with you, maybe we’ll start to think deeper about our virtual connections.

Happiness is the way you think, and if you're surrounded by online negativity all the time, you carry a weight which isn’t yours to bear. Loving yourself and losing yourself, is more than the difference of one letter.

Pay attention to the way people make you feel.

Follow wisely, and unfollow unapologetically.

Time is non-refundable. Use it with intention.

From Donegal with love. Always.

The Secret Life Of Adults: Fear

I started thinking about fear at 15,000 feet.

Strapped to a stranger I had met only twenty minutes previous, I teetered on the edge of oblivion with a camera man named Cupcake, and an uncontrollable smile across my face.

Up until then, everything I had been conditioned to believe conventional fear to be, was embodied in that moment. A fear of injury. A fear of heights. A fear of speed. A fear of trust. A fear of death…normal dangers which we categorically avoid.

And there I was, as happy as could be in the lead up to arguably the most dangerous experience of my life. I felt euphoric, deliriously happy, and if I could have hopped on the next plane to recreate the experience, I’d be there in a tachycardiac minute.

Judging by the above experience, I wasn’t fearful of death, so why the hell would I be fearful of life? But I was, and in many ways I remain so everyday.

The thing that scares me the most is that exhausting, everyday fear we all experience, and by all accounts, it’s just as scary if not more petrifying than jumping out of a plane. That fear is the irrational voice in the back of our heads which makes us doubt our ourselves and our unique abilities. It’s a phobia of being wrong, different or publicly embarrassed. It’s the un-nerving feeling when we’re put on the spot, or in front of a crowd, and it’s a fear of risking the average to be able to pursue the extraordinary.

Someone told me recently fear is a reflection of the things we care about, and as a confident girl who advocates bravery, non-conformity and an unapologetic sense of self, that conversation really struck a cord with the superficiality of my fears.

Although I didn’t think twice about tandem skydiving with a complete stranger, sometimes I’m anxious about what other people think. Sometimes I’m scared to pursue my ambitions and fail. Sometimes I’m petrified of moving forward with my life. Sometimes I’m terrified I’ve made the wrong choices. Sometimes I’m afraid I’m not fulfilling my potential. Sometimes I’m worried about how I look. But most of the time I’m fearful of something that does not exist and may never…

That’s because our irrational, intrinsic fear materialises as a glass ceiling we're constantly anticipating an immense collision with. Our minds ache from a tension which forecasts some sort of catastrophic event, created by the illusions of our own vivid and dubious imaginations.

But take a second to think about someone you admire. A person who is perhaps successful, or famous, or thought provoking or even inspiring. They most certainly didn’t get to where they are now by conceding to their fears.

Consider some of the all time greats. Ghandi for example wasn’t scared to challenge British oppression peacefully despite the danger to his life. Simone de Beauvoir wasn’t afraid to brandish sexism and bare her soul to the world through her writing. Steve Jobs wasn’t fearful of failure and ridicule when he dedicated his life to his creative vision….And even Kim Kardashian, a woman who arguably suffered one of the worse possible public humiliations; the publication of a sex tape, was able to turn it around and channel the fear of social indignity to shape and built an empire; becoming one of the most powerful public figures in the world.

Sylvia Plath, a woman who does in fact exist outside the misery of Leaving Cert English wrote: “We’re all victims of introspection.” I love the honesty of that statement, but I believe you’re only ever a victim if you succumb to your nonsensical internal fears and let them suffocate your day to day life and future ambitions.

Fear is always going to be a part of our decision-making processes, because it’s embedded in our brains as an effective survival technique. But outside the rare considerations of fight or flight, it’s also something we can confront far more easily than most people care to acknowledge. Once you recognise a fear out loud, I don’t think it has the same strength or capacity of consumption. It’s redundant. You can logically challenge it.

The more I write about things that scare me, the braver I feel. The more I expose the inner most workings of my mind, the more at peace I become. And if I’m courageous enough to be true and real and authentic, then I feel happier and that makes me less concerned about what everyone else thinks.

In a small way, I would like to think that encourages others and reminds me on the days I feel most self-aware and fearful that we’re all the same…because aren’t we all just camouflaging an ingrained anxiety? Wearing cool exteriors and nonchalant social media personas, when behind it all, we’re quite obviously desperately seeking status and acceptance?

Fear is an exhausting illusion.

Fortunately I find the older and more worldly I get, the closer I am to accepting the fact that yes, I will DEFINITELY be a source of my own embarrassment. I will sometimes be the subject of idle gossip. I will absolutely be wracked with nerves and fearful of the unknown, and I will be un-liked and rejected by people in the future with whom I am not universally compatible…I also choose not to let that stop me from pursuing everything I want and dream of.

Anais Nin inked a sentiment which resonates with me every day. “Had I not created my own world, I would have certainly died in someone else’s.” It doesn’t much matter in the grand scheme of things if you’re popular, or wealthy or successful or good looking. It matters that when they lay your bones in the ground, you can say you left no dream to wither unchased. The most important thing is that on the last day of your life, you're able to say you let no one and nothing stop you from being the best version of yourself.

Truthfully, life is entirely composed of so called ‘fearful’ decisions. The choice between the safe job and the career of your dreams. The choice to be in a relationship with someone, or be alone. The choice to stay where you are or move away and start again. The brave decision to make your voice and opinions heard. The freedom to truly articulate your personality. The choice of what you want to wear and who you want to love.

And you'll do well to remember that you also reserve the right to fail at some, if not all of the above. As in the words of my literary hero Ernest Hemingway:

“Every man’s life ends in the same way. Only the details of how he lived and died distinguish one man from another.”

Fear cheats you out of the best things in life. And although our fears are constantly evolving, sometimes beyond our control; there are an immeasurable set of worries which can be challenged, tackled and diminished if you’re brave enough to accept the inevitability of failure, embarrassment and heartbreak and be courageous in spite of these distresses.

Jack Kerouac wrote: “I have nothing to offer other people other than my own confusion,” and I think in the rawest sense, that’s exactly what I can provide to any one person reading this. A hopeful, relatable account of my own befuddlement and fears, because the world does not care about me. It doesn’t even care about you. And if it doesn’t care about us, then all we have to do is care about ourselves.

So I’m dedicating my life to the great challenge of overcoming fear and risking failure in spite of the red faces, dashed dreams, tears and heartbreaks which will undoubtedly follow.

But even if we're beaten, which is some instances is an inevitable fate; I hope that each of us can still steal a little victory because we smiled in the face of fear. Nothing is more essential to happiness than an infinite bravery.

From Donegal with love, always.

Mum's The Word

To my amazing Mother,

You are without a doubt, the rainbow behind every rain cloud that ever thought to darken the sky.

You are an inexhaustible source of happiness, and as you grow older, you grow more beautiful.

You’ve often said that love is the most overused word in existence. And when I look into your eyes, I know that true love is what you have sacrificed for the six of us. You have lived, worked and prospered through times we could not fathom, let alone replicate, and you built our home on a foundation of selfless love and grace.

You are the life blood of our family, and the human super glue which holds us all together and if you aren’t happy, none of us are. Your tears become ours, and your sadness becomes mine.

In ways of which you are not even aware, you have held my dreams together with your endless support and encouragement. But when you say “Well done!” or “I’m very proud of you”, that praise is a reflection of all your love and effort; as before I can claim any ghastly delusions of kindness, independence or intellect, you have been there by my side, as a never ending source of inspiration and strength.

There are two educations in life. The one you have taught, and the one I had to learn for myself…which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with a universal understanding of who is real and what is essential. Over the years you’ve taught me family isn't always biological, but instinctual, and that means always looking after the people who need our love and help the most.

Although you are the definitive winner of ‘Most Questions Asked Before 9am’, and clearly working for some kind of intelligence agency, you were able to warn me about people long before I even thought to be cautious. I've recently realised I’ve never had a true friend, not ever, not a real one, that you haven’t given your verbal approval of, because you judge people on their actions, not words or grand appearances.

As a hideous teenager it makes me sad to think how I threw you into the trenches of my distress, sadness and worry, and I’m eternally sorry for causing 25 years’ worth of trouble outside an inaugural 11 hour labour. You have loved me most when I've been at my worst,and you are the quiet calm voice that reminds me that everything will be ok.

But thankfully, when we laugh, we laugh a lot, and like any great mother you make fun of me daily. As the original funny girl, you taught me the importance of approaching life with a sense of humour, and how not to take myself or the opinions of others too seriously.

For example, when you told me (and numerous other people) I could talk shit for a living, you didn’t initially intend it to be career advice, but here I am, some years later carving out a career as a writer. Yet, even in jest you held a high standard for me, as a woman and your daughter, for which I was always exactable. You said I could be whoever I wanted if I was willing to work hard enough, and I would not be who I am today without you.

Nevertheless, I’m guilty of neglecting you. You're so hidden in plain sight I assume your presence is commonplace, and I forget how significant it is to my health and undisputed happiness.

But you are more than just a mother, a chef, a chauffeur, a bank manager, a disciplinarian and a sibling mediator.  You are a self-made woman whose independence was established long before you had a man to share the bills with. And although you never had the time to read books or benefit from the opportunity to travel extensively in your youth, you are one of the most intelligent and insightful people I know. 

Apart from caring for your children, you have shown love and given people dignity in the last years of their life,through your relentless philosophy of always putting other people first...and as the first woman on, and the last woman off the dance floor, your spirit is something I can only aspire to.

Of style and femininity you taught me its boobs OR legs, NEVER both and that the former would be a genetic legacy I would appreciate one day. And, as I stood in my sisters beloved holy communion dress aged eight, with it barely fitting over my knees, you delivered your usual cut throat truth, in your usual characteristic way. You said I was never going to be as skinny and petite as my sisters or some other girls, and I shouldn’t try to be. You said I should love my own body because it’s the only one I’m ever going to have - and in that simple assertion you made me resilient and confident enough to love my own skin.

They say "All women become like their mothers, but no man does and that’s his tragedy." I hope I’m lucky enough that I do, because to me that would be the highest form of accomplishment. And in an age of my own, when I have my own family to love, I hope my heart will be as big and generous as yours and serve as a credit to your legacy.

And although I can only explain my love for you in adequate words, you have always helped me find my voice during times when I had lost all hope.

You are the essential substance behind every thought and feeling I’ve ever had, and in the creation of all my own stories, you are the muse, the mastermind and the master of ceremonies.

I love you not only for who you are, but for what I am when I’m with you…the truest and very best version of myself.

“When trials are heavy and suddenly fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, a mother is the truest friend we have.”

From your proud and loving daughter, with love. Always.

The Secret Life of Adults - Rape Culture

"Grab them by the p**sy.”

Five words which will forever be synonymous with the political stylings of the deplorable Donald Trump, a man who, among many other distressing characteristics,  personifies the underlying existence of ‘Rape Culture’, in a global society where women often ‘appear’ to have ‘equivocal’ rights to their male counterparts.

Rebecca Solnit wrote:

“Rape culture is an environment in which rape is prevalent and in which sexual violence against women is normalised and excused in the media and popular culture. Rape culture is perpetuated through the use of misogynistic language, the objectification of women’s bodies, and the glamorisation of sexual violence, thereby creating a society that disregards women’s rights and safety.”

Even though many men would never contemplate rape, and a lot of women thankfully have never been victims of rape, ‘Rape Culture’ is something which in one way or another affects us all.

To reflect back on a recent Twitter exchange regarding a subject relating to another aspect of women’s issues, one male commentator limited a discussion of the female agenda to be exclusive to:  ‘A Shrill band of Socialists, Feminists and Lesbians.’

Apart from the obvious narrow mindedness and bigotry of this statement, it heartily demonstrates the deeply embedded, dysfunctional and downright alarming thought processes of society as a whole, and the disregard for the women’s issues that still exist. 

It supports a widespread thought process that women should be content with their lot, but frankly, life didn’t become perfect for us when we got the right to vote. It was a milestone on a long and treacherous journey, which comes to a daily climax every night, when we arrive home after swerving that creepy guy, or after questioning the taxi driver who took an unknown route home, when we close our front door and unconsciously celebrate the fact we didn’t get raped today.

There may be no bombs, or guns pointed at our heads, but that doesn’t mean the threat of modern ‘Rape Culture’ is not real. We’re increasingly guilty of commodifying human life, defining ourselves by looks, physical form and social conformity. We live in a highly sexualised society which considers sexual aggression and exploitation as normal. We glamourise subordination to men because they are the hunter gatherers, the providers of impractical shoes and barely there underwear...because you know, they're sexy and definitely for our own benefit and comfort.

As women we are repeatedly told ‘boys will be boys’, but the innocence of a ‘cheeky bum’ grab in a night club is part of a larger scale of events, a gender power play and a subsequent reminder that the whole female population is held in a subordinate position to the whole male population. In this way we have socially constructed and reinforced the idea of male entitlement from what we as a society, still to this day, tell men about their gender.

Interestingly, Oliver Markus discussed the female role in purporting a rape culture when he pondered the global success of a very famous book:

"Look at the huge success of Fifty Shades of Grey. The girl in the book lets a rich guy beat her and ritually rape her, and she likes it! She finds it erotic! But imagine if Christian Grey wasn't a billionaire. Imagine if he lived in a dirty old trailer down by the river. Then that story wouldn't be a sexy romance novel, but an episode of CSI."

Ladies, we all know real life is nothing like this Hollywood spectaculisation, so why why are we not questioning its existence?

For example getting followed home is not sexy.  It wasn’t complimentary and it was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me. Being alone or in sports wear was not an invitation to be repeatedly hounded at the side of a busy main road, and funnily enough I wasn’t tempted to get in his car after the fourth attempt to drive up and down the road to talk to me.

Fortunately, I was helped out by three other male friends who made sure I got home safely but sadly these occurences reinforce the fact that as women, we are required to police and monitor ourselves and also answer questions like: ‘What were you wearing?’ when we share our story with others.

And, if for whatever reason you think I’m being dramatic, consider this:

Do men have to consider a different route home, the consequences of your phone dying, changing the way you dress or the colour of your lipstick in order to feel safe?

Do you have to worry about:

1.            Getting too drunk.

2.            Leaving your drink unattended at the bar.

3.            Meeting a stranger with no one knowing your whereabouts.

4.            Being alone in your house with an unknown visitor e.g. the electrician, the plumber etc.

5.            Travelling solo.

6.            Running or walking alone at night.

7.            Responding to abusive harassers, because retaliation might escalate the situation.

8.            Your choice and fit of clothing.

9.            The size and shape of your physical anatomy as an invitation for commentary.

10.          Getting a taxi home alone.

These are things that men often don’t have to think about, that men take for granted, that men simply don’t have to consider as part of their daily life, but sadly these are things that we as women have to consider every day.

But if we as women do not believe in the underlying existence of these preventative rape measures, and we do not raise the validity of our own suffering, then we weaken the possibility of ever challenging, changing and rectifying these deeply held and accepted beliefs and actions. Imagine these destructive thought processes multiplied by over 7,460,124,122 people (roughly) globally, and contemplate the omerta like culture of silence we are enabling by not speaking out and raising awareness of this issue.

But for whatever reason you think there’s no harm in the actions or words of some men, if it’s so normal and harmless and non-derogatory, why aren’t men telling their mum’s they have lovely tits? Why aren’t they wolf whistlin’ at their cousins and condoning the actions of strangers who hound their girlfriends and sisters…

If it’s an act of admiration to be followed, or for a man to not take no for an answer because he ‘really likes you’, then why stop there. Why not start telling victims of theft that they deserved to be robbed for having such a lovely house, instead of teaching people not to steal. Hell why don’t we legalise guns, hand out knives, reward crime and let murderers decide the fate of our wellbeing while we’re at it…

That’s because these pre-requisites would only encourage people to think that extreme behaviours were acceptable. 

As such, we have to change the processes before you can ever change the product. It starts with enabling a world where young men and women grow up with intelligent regard and knowledge of each other’s bodies, as well as respect for each other’s minds.For example 'Rape Culture'  in public discourse is encouraged and condoled when we consent to the participation of conversations that encourages a lax attitudes toward sexual violence and the concerns of women. 

The way we talk about things matter, and not accepting the words and actions of others will help us to redefine the issue.

The current prevalence of the issue may have arisen most obviously thanks to one misogynistic predator masquerading as a presidential candidate, but the fact that it is

currently being used as a reason to (rightly) diminish Trump’s position and credibility, surely means that we have finally reached our limit? A point of insurpassable tolerance? A public turning point?

Have we put Rape Culture on the agenda as no longer acceptable?

I hope so. For myself and every female across the world.

From Doha with love. Always.

The Secret Life Of Adults - Loneliness

Isn’t it strange that most of us are born alone, and die alone, yet to feel alone is an all-consuming fear engrossing the lives of many twenty somethings. 

As a generation we’ve redefined what it means to be lonely, because unlike any previous connotations of isolation and solitude, we’ve culturally complexified the construct of loneliness in a world so connected, that we’ve grown a part from the things that really matter.

We’ve been mis-diagnosing loneliness for quite some time now, confusing singularity of thought for detrimental non-conformity; social boredom as anti-socialness, and disillusionment with modern society as anti-advancement.

Technology, social media, a consuming drinking culture and infinite social pressures, deepen, diversify and complexify what it means to feel lonely, because, as Albert Einstein once poignantly noted, our knowledge of humanity has been surpassed by our own ‘supposed’ progression.

Admittedly we may communicate in a multitude of multifaceted ways you couldn’t even imagine twenty something years ago, but are our days filled with meaningful interactions which catalyse our enrichment or development? For me, the answer is no, because loneliness is a very palpable aspect of contemporary life, and I see it on the faces and social media accounts of every twenty something I know.

There are numerous circumstances and relationships which increasingly result in a sense of frustration and alienation, because even in the company of a crowd; unless we’re surrounded by real time, real life, wholesome and supportive connections, we’re vulnerable to falling prey to destructive social norms that make us believe we're alone in the way we think and feel.

Relationships of circumstance for example, involve the realisation that we outgrow some people, their biases, limitations, views, opinions and stagnancy. This also means understanding that we're human, and we have an essential craving for social inclusion, regardless of the whether or not our socialisations actually add substance to our lives. Also bare in mind, a joint experiences such as school or university does not necessarily mean that two people have a life long compatibility or are capable of filling the hole which necessitates that you place a higher value on the quality of life you expend, and who you expend it with.

Another bountiful modern catalyst of loneliness is a consuming social restlessness. Everyone, it seems, is busy looking busy. Are you where you are, or are you on a smart phone? As we know, human beings have an intrinsic need to belong, to feel an integral part of something greater than themselves. But do most people feel fulfilled by their life choices? Fundamentally, this requires an examination into the way we choose to spend each hour, each day, each month and each year. Because time is the only thing we have that we can never acquire more of, and isn’t anything, and anyone that makes us feel lonely, not just a complete waste of our most precious resource?

Charles Bukowski summed up our reliance on a weekend drinking culture to alleviate an infectious loneliness when he internally contemplated: "Wow, it's Friday night, what am I going to do? Just sit there? Or go out" To which he introspectively answered “Well, yeah. Because there's nothing out there other than what’s inside….” And figuring out just what that is, and just what it needs to flourish is the only way we’re ever going to overcome this consuming cultural phenomenon, which only erodes the feeling of loneliness further.

I’ve confronted loneliness in many divergent ways. I’ve weighed it up and I’ve dressed it down, and although I feel lonely a lot, I know not everything or everyone can fill the gap of my loneliness.

Principally, my experience of loneliness stems from a professional ambition, personal expectation and the feeling I need to compensate my parents for their emotional and financial investment in my future, because I need to gratify my own potential and the overwhelming support I've always been given.

By doing so, I've prioritised myself over everything else, because I felt it was something I had to do in my twenties. It wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t be sitting in the Middle East on my sweeney tod if loneliness didn’t feel good and bad at the same time. Most people are scared of being lonely, but I’ve never be so scared of it, as used to it. Loneliness is something I’ve chosen over under-fulfillment for a long time, but as the novelty of professional progress wears off, here I am, just another twenty something, contemplating life, feeling just as lonely and lost as anyone.

Don’t get me wrong, loneliness has probably been one of my greatest teachers. Loneliness means you’re trying something new and challenging, and it can be immensely rewarding in the larger scheme of life. In this respect, to feel lonely is an integral component of development, because a sheltered life anchors personal development. Loneliness is necessary sometimes, and sacrifice is a double edge sword we need to understand in relation to the uniqueness to our own lives and our infinite potential.

I've come to realise there are three key ingredients in the pursuit of happiness. Self-actualisation, Love and financial stability - but sadly all three seem unable to run in joyful parallel. It always boils down to the lesser of two evils, and really that’s the crux of the matter isn't it? What are you willing to sacrifice to appease your loneliness?

That being said, for every one day of loneliness I’ve ever experienced in my twenties, I’ve probably been saved from three in the future… because I’m starting to realise what intolerable loneliness means to me. 

Presently, that equates to being in a different country from the people I love. Sitting at a table with people on their phones, and thinking that socialisation and a drinking are synonomous social norms and the be all, and end all of craic.

I don’t want to be trapped alone in the same figurative or literal room anymore – so I’m starting to make decisions  in line with the above retrospection. 

We determine the quality of our own lives, and anything that makes us feel good, couldn't possibly be bad. 

To be continued…

From Doha With Love. Always.