Schmidt is such an annoyance, Nick once told Jess, “you are not emotionally, mentally and spiritually prepared to throw these d-bags a party” when she suggested that they throw Schmidt a surprise party for his twenty-ninth birthday. In Nick’s defence (and for context), Schmidt once went to a party named “bros before hoes on the moon.” The dress code was yacht-flair. Another one of Schmidt’s friends legally changed his name to Doin’it. Schmidt once threw a party to celebrate his healed penis; an announcement of sorts-he was ready to have sex again. And the theme,-wait for it-danger. Continue reading Schmidt: the lovable douche-bag that gets me through hell.
I am essentially a womanist, and if we’re being specific, an afro-feminist. My feminism is about and for African and black women. I still do however identify as a feminist which is a lot broader. This is probably because African and black men keep trying it and even though white women (and white feminism) are problematic, It’s sometimes a lot easier to identify and empathize … Continue reading Women: but my privilege…
Trigger Warning: this post contains content and links to content on sexual violence from sexual harassment to rape, subtle and overt. A while ago, being unable to write the sequel to I’m not quite sure, you will ask guys to comment/ send you emails of the first time they wanted to know if he fucks the way he talks. Your friend (God bless her) concerned, texted … Continue reading Meh…
“If you’ve ever tied to put your finger up a straight guy’s ass during sex, you’ll know that they actually understand ongoing consent, withdrawal of consent and sexual boundaries very well. They act confused when it’s our bodies.” –@Neo_url(twitter) I know guys. That was one hell of a starter. As you may have gleaned, this post is about the infantilization of men especially in the … Continue reading Infantilization of men.
I lie prostrate on my bed, my whole body engrossed in the act of waiting. Idle hands trace patterns on my quilt while listening in to the conversation going on in the living room. My room is dark and quiet. I try to pace my stuttered breathing with the ticking of the hands of the alarm clock on my bedside table. A memory replays in … Continue reading Dad, the misnomer
Read part 1 here. Now obviously, I couldn’t get pregnant just by looking at him. For the most part, this is hyperbole, but it still does remain a kind of reality for me. In the innocent, less plagued by darkness parts of mind, I believe this irrational conviction. Sometime last year, I was binge-watching The Daily Show. Trevor Noah was doing a bit about the … Continue reading “I just want to know if he fucks the way he talks.”
Growth is a beautiful concept. Feminism is an ever-shifting belief system (if I may call it that.) And because I’ve grown, below are some of the concepts I have changed my mind about. For context, you can read my post on feminism here. Misandry. A hatred of men. I think it goes without saying that I do not advocate for any kind of hate, regardless … Continue reading Men: but my feelings…
For a while I was convinced I wouldn’t make it past twenty eight. I can’t tell why, I just didn’t think I would. Lately however, I find that I’m excited to turn thirty. I just turned twenty three and I was actually more excited that I’m closer to thirty than anything else. I sit and fantasize about my career and my house when I’ll be … Continue reading 23 and counting (surprisingly)
Mid-morning on a seemingly non-descript day in August 2012, my mother discovers a tumour on my upper palette. I’m sitting by the kitchen-door watching my mother cook chapati, because it is a miracle that she is cooking anything at all. I was ten when my mother dragged me to the kitchen and made me cook ugali and since then, she only goes back to the … Continue reading Delayed Grief.