It’s not easy.
Handling my moods, making sure the plants don’t die, playing the waiting game amidst global pandemic, standing on a planet that spins and spins, and you’re so small you can’t even feel it.
The patriarchy hasn’t been exactly kind to men. This might be a controversial thing to say given all the privileges they’ve had for centuries at the expense of women, but nothing is ever black-and-white.
My ex-best friend used to be like an older sister to me. Every single time I came to her with a problem, she started spitting out deep wisdom that came out of nowhere, surprising both of us. These monologues often provided me with useful advice and made me feel inspired, relaxed and glad to have such a good friend.
I’m knitting him a scarf. It’s imperfect, it’s screaming-yellow, it’s from me.
I’ve knitted before. I’ve knitted for other people, other occasions, at different stages of my life. I’ve never managed to finish one single proper scarf. They had too many holes, I was too lazy to learn an actual pattern, I never had the patience to keep going till the end.
After I moved into my dormitory in Germany for my year abroad, I cried. A lot.
I was sitting on the windowsill, staring at the grey wall which covered most of my view, and I thought, “Why me? Why do I always get the worst room?”
After being surrounded by men who displayed the utmost toxic behaviour my whole life, you would think that I wouldn’t fall for that sort of thing in the dating world again. And you would be wrong.