relationships
Trace the link between feminism and relationships from outdated norms to modern conventions including chivalry, working mothers, splitting the bill and beyond.
The Invitation
Lily was terrified. They had been talking for nearly a year and finally she had worked up the courage to suggest a real “date.” The suggestion, much to her surprise, was accepted and to make the whole situation even more stressful, she’d suggested her place. What the hell was she thinking? It’s one thing to text back and forth, or talk for a bit on the phone. It’s also fairly easy to banter at the coffee shop. There are escape routes, dammit. You can hang up, have to go to the bathroom, or just leave. But no, you had to go and make it weird and inescapable by having it at your place. What are you going to do? Run out of the apartment and hope for the best? Girl, you are an idiot.
By Joyce R. Carter6 years ago in Viva
From here to home
I meet the little black notebook on my normal train. It’s not a date per se. Instead, fate brings us together on the 17:58 express from here to home, and although the carriage is mostly empty, the notebook has chosen my favourite seat, my only seat, to lay itself down and wait.
By Hejira Convery6 years ago in Viva
How it feels to be in a relationship with a toxic person
Sometimes, it’s easier to deny than to accept and apologize. People are always going to be imperfect and flawed; the first thought to cross your mind after being accused of something will always be to deny and question the accusation. Most of the time, people think through just what they’ve been accused of, and reason whether or not to admit to their faults.
By Sadie Haynes6 years ago in Viva
She Was My Good Friend, Until She Tried To Seduce My Husband
My husband and I met Lorraine* and her sister Chloe* (names changed) through a volunteer arts organization several years ago. They were both physically tiny, perhaps five feet and a hundred pounds, and although they were both in their twenties, physically they looked about fourteen. Their voices were childlike too, high and piping, prone to girlish squeals and nervous, tittering laughter. Indeed, they both seemed so young in manner and appearance that I sometimes forgot that they were adult women with college degrees and jobs. They were terribly enthusiastic once they joined up with our arts group, wanting to be a part of everything and be in every committee.
By Deborah Moran6 years ago in Viva
Gringa
“You have a nice figure, Gringa. But you could still get a little more meat on your bones.” That’s what Jim matter-of-factly suggested to me, right after gesturing his big, expensive gold watch in front of my face towards the passenger seat where I clutched my cell phone with a sweaty palm and frowned down at said bones, the knobby knees and bony thighs I had since childhood. He was shaking his head, craning to leer at the petite females we could see through my window, blonde ponytails swinging as they jogged Kelly Drive, headphones in, oblivious to his judging stares. “Why do white girls like to work out so much? You see so many of these pretty little things running and it’s like girl, you don’t even have an ass, why you tryin’ to get rid of the fat you don’t even have? I don’t like that. I like girls with curves.” Then that chuckle of his – that infantile giggle like he just got away with doing something he shouldn’t have – followed by an emission of cigar breath. I didn’t agree nor refute. I sat there silent and dumb, as I always did and always would in his presence, only this time I had the unwelcome thought that I really should have learned how to jump out of a moving vehicle if it ever came to that. It didn’t, but the reminder tingled at the base of my skull as I checked my phone for the tenth time that minute.
By Andrea Festa6 years ago in Viva
Tearing down the Walls. Top Story - March 2021.
Up until recently, telling my story felt futile. I have had so many walls up and have now come to the realisation that there is more to lose by not telling my story. For the longest time, I believed that my story had no value. You see, my life feels ordinary. Whilst I have been through some hardships, grief and loss, I’ve never stopped to consider that these events have shaped me, or that my story might be one that others resonate with.
By Adrianna Zaccardi6 years ago in Viva
Best Friends Forever
Have you ever heard that saying, men are from Mars and women are from Venus? Of course, you have, we all have; it’s one of those household statements. As a woman, I literally can’t wrap my brain around what men think about in a day, but I also found that up until I became an adult, I also had a very hard time relating to other women. Throughout my years in school, I had a hard time maintaining friendships with girls, in fact, it wasn’t until my freshman year of high school that I actually managed to make and maintain a girl-friend for the entirety of a year or more. Why does any of that matter?
By C. L. Henderson6 years ago in Viva
