I have a friend who teaches boys how to kiss. Not as a job, you understand – but if she’s dating a guy and doesn’t like the way he kisses, she will tactfully put him right. I’m not sure of her exact methods (it would be weird if I’d witnessed this, let’s be honest) but… Continue reading Low-maintenance
The greatest adventure
Recently, I’ve stopped looking at men. When I’m pottering round the Lanes at the weekend, on the bus to work, or in the park with the dog, it’s not men that catch my eye. Sure, I can still clock a stylish pair of glasses on a whippet-boned face at twenty paces – like the most… Continue reading The greatest adventure
Call it what it is
I wish they’d just be honest, you know? I wish the 25 Alabama senators who voted to pass a bill effectively banning abortion could just be honest about their reasoning. Because of course, they say it’s about protecting the unborn child. Protecting a potential new life. They turn it into an argument about defending the… Continue reading Call it what it is
The necessity of being alone
The second series of the inimitable Derry Girls opens with Erin monologuing in the bath and Orla crashing in with the line, “she’s pretending she’s on Parkinson again!” I cannot tell you how much I love and, as will come as no surprise, relate to that moment. Except when I do it, it’s not Parkinson, it’s Woman’s Hour or… Continue reading The necessity of being alone
My favourite t-shirt
My favourite t-shirt is from Alliance For Choice, a not-for-profit organisation that campaigns for abortion rights in Northern Ireland. It’s one of those tops I wear to walk the dog, or to bed, or when I’m working from home. It says #trustwomen on it, and almost every time I catch sight of the lettering, I… Continue reading My favourite t-shirt
In this body
There’s nothing like a heatwave to make you painfully aware of your body, is there? After months of jeans and jumpers, a few days of delicious golden heat forces you to pull the shorts and t-shirts from where they’ve been stashed since last August, and suddenly you’re confronted with inches of pale thigh and arm. You… Continue reading In this body
The feelings gap
This is essentially a Fleabag fan blog now; deal with it. I think I’ve always been angry. Certainly since adolescence; I threw almighty strops as a teen and my mum used to say, “God, you’re so angry – what’s wrong with you?” Looking back, I see it clearly: I was a shitty teenager, that’s all,… Continue reading The feelings gap
