Not Another One

It has been too many months since my last post, but I am back on the band wagon, so never fear!

 

I have undertaken many things in my time away from the blog, and if you’re following my adventures on Instagram you would know that I visited Sydney Town, drank some coffee, visited the family, cuddled my dogs and got in touch with nature. Fun times. I’ve also really enjoyed getting-to-know the wider Insta-Community. Whether it’s the effortlessly stylish Nikki with #everydaystyle or the more outlandish charm of Kobi Jae with #whatfatgirlsACTUALLYwear I’m really digging the body positive movement, and the power of social media. I’d be an idiot, if I didn’t acknowledge some of the challenges associated with social media like trolling, stalking or identity fraud, but I think it’s great that we can all be a media outlet. We are no longer stuck with the glossy magazines of the past. Sick of seeing the same images? Then go make some of your own and become an independent broadcaster. The power of creative curation is contagious.

This summer, I even managed to fit in a holiday. As in a real holiday, away from home, at a proper hotel and it was mag-fucking-nificent. The power of relaxation cannot be overstated, and my husband and I enjoyed the delightful Freshwater Point Resort. By an amazing happy coincidence, it was walking distance from the Cardamon Pod,  a vegetarian restaurant we have been meaning to try out, and we were thrilled with the results. The only downside to the whole holiday experience was a creepy old man. In all seriousness, a much older man approached me in the pool, and asked me where I was from.

 

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Despite the face I’m pulling, I’m enjoying the pool. 

It went something like this:

Old dude in speedos: Where are you guys from?

Me: What do you mean?

Speedos: Where are you from, where do you live?

Me: Does that matter?

Speedos: No, I’m making conversation, where are you from?

Me: What? Where are YOU from?

Speedos: No, were did you come from, did you travel?

Me: I want to be left alone thank you

Speedos: I was only making conversation.

On the surface it was innocuous, and a part of me is trying to give Speedos the benefit of the doubt, and imagine that he really was curious about my true location. BUT. Can a woman, just enjoy herself at the pool without a man interjecting on her time? I was really thrown off-guard by this dude. I wasn’t up for a conversation, and it is no business of his where I am from or what I was doing. To me, this speaks of the male gaze, and white male privilege, where men think they are entitled to a woman’s time and body. My clothing is irrelevant, my location is irrelevant, my mood is irrelevant, I am not here for your entertainment. It was also a reminder of the everyday sexism project. As women, we are consciously and subconsciously taught to be submissive to men, and that men deliver an omnipotence power of authority over women. Sometimes, I think because of my size, my clothing choices and where I spend loads of time hanging out (at home, or in the hetro-female-heavy office) I’m not often a target of the male gaze. Or maybe I’ve managed to filter it out, and I’m oblivious to the pervy eyes, who decided in an instant if I’m fuckable or not. Regardless, I am not your toy, I am not up for a conversation. Women have the right to exist in public, without harassment, even if you don’t think it’s annoying, if it’s annoying a woman, then it’s harassment.

 

Sigh, do I really have to say this? It’s 2016 FFS!

 

Till next time folks 😉

 

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