“I don’t feel very sexy today,” I said to Jules this evening as I plugged my nose with tissue from my bedside table stash. “Why?” she replied. “I don’t know I just feel unattractive, like, I just don’t even know, you know?” I say staring at her with tissue hanging from my face to stop yet another frustration nosebleed. “It’s just like this sometimes, you’re not stimulated,” she said back to me.
Sitting down to assess if the bleeding had stopped, I attribute this frustration to my current read: Women Don’t Owe You Pretty by feminist powerhouse Florence Given (currently £11.43 on Amazon). A 222-page corker, the book is forcing me to reconsider the entire way I look at myself. (Honestly, like, the entire way). It’s as if she’s inside my brain asking me if the choices I’m making about my body, my wardrobe and my life are my actual choices. Or if they are, in fact, a direct result of living in a patriarchal society which forces me (and other women) to think that being inferior, quiet, pretty and submissive is all we should be, or ever need to be.
*internal screaming for 10 hours*
This reminds me of the myriad of degrading comments men have made to me in my life, the internalised misogyny I’ve experienced from other women, the choice to take an Uber for five minutes instead of walking (because I wanted to feel safe), the men who’ve moved passed me in a club and grabbed my waist or touched my bum, not knowing where to look when a passer-by leers at me from his car/truck/van or even getting dressed in the morning and then changing my outfit five minutes before I leave because I don’t want to be sexualised for what I’m wearing.
It’s stupid and frustrating.
Even now I’m sitting here grappling with own internalised misogyny towards myself, hating who I am for things I can and can’t do as a woman. Irregular periods = failure to reproduce. Having acne or bad breakouts = ugly by current beauty standards. Small boobs = ugly by current beauty standards. And I hate these things for what? For why? For whyyyyy? Is it because I feel that possessing fully functioning fallopian tubes and cyst-free ovaries will make me more attractive to the opposite sex? Because it's nothing to do with how I view myself at all.
ARHHSJFKAJSNDAJKnfjnsdjkfndkdfvfm.
Anyway, while I continue this important internal battle, I totally recommend the book; I only started it yesterday and I’m nearly finished. Jules actually bought it for us both to read as we each follow Florence Given on social media - which I urge you do right now too. I’ve struggled to find a decent book to read throughout lockdown but it’s so nice to sit down and get lost in totally important headspace that alters how I view life.
LATERS, I’m going to try and not base my current level of attraction on whether or not I can fit into high waist denim shorts.
Lauren x
(I'm using a Tesco receipt for a bookmark yes, okay?!)
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