The Flaneur and the Flaneuse: the culture of women who wander cities
Historians have removed the idea of women as flaneurs for years, deeming their experience of city walking to be limited. Perhaps it was never limited, just different.
My Pain is Not a Figment of My Imagination
Sitting in front of the GP, a large middle-aged man, I described my symptoms. As soon as I mentioned bleeding, he put his pen down and looked at me. “Are you on your period?” he asked. I’d already told him I wasn’t.
Fat bodies in the family
When my partner’s aunt remarks to him how he would be much happier if he were thin – I stop her, look her dead in the eye and tell her that life is beautiful and he should enjoy it.
Weeding
I thought if I could just pull up these weeds my garden would be perfect. My garden is a patio courtyard, a circle of tiles holding a glass-top table, framed with a square of flagstones, and between the cracks there are ants, woodlice, the occasional worm, and weeds.
Dust
I started writing again following my partner’s disclosure of her intention to transition from male to female. I wrote this after my partner did my make up for the first time. It’s an emotional and lovely memory.