Monotheism and the War on Women

“..Your desire shall be for your husband and he shall rule over you” Genesis 3:16

The Church of England is procrastinating whether women deserve equal promotion to senior clergy, initially proposing legislation that would mean “it would have enshrined in law the very prejudices against which supporters of female bishops have battled so long. It would, they say, create a two-tier system in which not only female bishops, but men who ordained women or who had themselves been ordained by women, would be considered second-rate.” Meanwhile in Afghanistan, Taliban tribesmen are using ‘Sharia’ law to execute women ‘accused’ of adultery. Religions the world over proclaim peace and equality whilst consistently using their beliefs to promote power and control of women.

As someone who was indoctrinated into an Abrahamic faith from a very young age, I have my issues with religion and whether it can ever be considered supportive of the feminist cause. God is masculine. His first human was male. His first female wasn’t designed exclusively of her own flesh and bone; she was created from one of man’s ribs. In another tradition, Eve is described as being the second wife of Adam. Lilith was God’s first female creation, an equal; she refused to ‘sleep or serve under him’ and was banished for knowing her own mind. This version of events is not in any of the holy books. When God is a man (and a blond blue eyed one, at that) and all the prophets, disciples and saints (more or less) are also men, as a woman you face one of two choices. Accept that man is wiser; pure and blessed, and revere him as the creator and administrator of the life force OR open your eyes, revel in your ability to create fullstop and accept you might have been a little duped by the men holding the pens who, 2-3000 years ago orchestrated the abomination that is the subjugation of women through ‘original sin’.

Several thousands of years of being so tempting to poor, pure man that he cannot control his own impulses and only because he is so gullible and naïve; when confronted with an apple, he cannot control the urge to take a bite. Eve might have presented the apple but she didn’t force Adam to eat it. How old is Adam? Small children and perpetrators of abuse often bemoan “they made me do it!” And apparently God, the highly strung sleep deprived parent took Adam’s word for it and grounded Eve! Loving and understanding and forgiving God gave Eve pain. What should be a joyful miracle of creation marred forever more by Eve’s seductive ways. Obviously I don’t really believe this. Evacuating a fully formed human out of your body takes a lot of effort and is going to be extremely painful. Not punishment but rather basic human physiology.

Allegorically, the Old Testament is anti-feminist. It describes to men the punishment they face if they are swayed by feminine wiles. Did Eve nag Adam into taking a bite? Eve is beguiled by the snake, all slithery and penis like. He tempts her and she tempts him. And then because they know it all, God banishes them from Heaven. Desire is bad. Temptation is bad. It’s all woman’s fault.

Without desire and temptation, one is pure and worthy of God’s affection. Except God made each and every one of us horny! Yet men from all over the world don’t seem to want to own their desires. It’s easier to blame the witches and wenches. What is the value of female life when the honour between two warriors of Allah is at stake?

Is this why religious institutions openly defend their rights to exclude their female believers from more involved roles? There is a belief that they will tempt the holy men of the clergy into debauchery by being so pervasive and goddamn sexy?

We recoil in horror and our politicians condemn the slaughter of a woman whose country they want to pillage for all their natural resources. We’re more ‘civilised’ here in the West, we exclude and eliminate women through proper bureaucratic channels. The centuries old witch trials of burning free thinking women at the stake are a distant memory for many.

If we are all equal in God’s eyes, why can’t they prove it?

I never write dreams or nightmares.. I write my own reality

“I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.”

There’s something about Frida Kahlo that touched my soul from the first time I laid eyes on her work. Her honest self-depiction, mono-brow and all, thrilled me and saddened me too. I was thrilled to see a brown woman with such a distinction in the world of modern art, adorned in splendiferous colourful materials, her hair drawn tightly off her determined face. She certainly wasn’t a shy girl but a beautiful woman, bold and proud of her sex. And more than a little bit ‘ethnic’. She wasn’t worried about silly things like facial hair.

But I felt sad for the woman Frida, and felt a parallel with my own life. Like Frida, I had problems with the parts that make you a woman. Two operations for a humongous ovarian cyst left me considerably shaken and uncertain as to whether I would ever become a mother. It hurts more than you expect it to. You set the standard pretty high in your head but it surpasses that.

The hardships she suffered were of no consequence to her work, if anything, they made her art more accessible to women. Shocking, yes, but then isn’t that life? Madonna purchased Frida’s painting entitled ‘My Birth’, a fan of Kahlo; she has many of her other paintings. It is this one in particular though, that her ex husband Guy Ritchie is said to be ‘creeped out’ by. Admittedly the sheet over her mother’s head can be interpreted as somewhat sinister but Frida painted this to mark the passing of her late mother. She commented in her diary that she gave birth to herself.

Childbirth is pretty gruesome but also amazingly beautiful and magically overwhelming. What can seem hopeless in one moment suddenly becomes a miracle. It’s real. It is what it is. It’s how Guy Ritchie’s children were born too.

During her drawn out period of convalescence Frida started painted having given up on a career in medicine. Of all her artwork, 55 pieces are self-portraits. I feel an affinity with her here too. In ‘The Broken Column’ she expresses her confinement and pain, a picture that could best describe my own predicament. Having recently had a 2^nd operation to fix a faulty disc in my back, I have been limited in what I can do. My movement is quite restricted, I have been told to never attempt to touch my toes ever again. But I am able to type. A lot of my writing is what I have experienced for myself, whether personally or professionally. It is, for me, a never-ending story. Frida expresses some of that in her work.

Frida Kahlo inspires me to keep going, whatever the obstacles. She is thought provoking and emotionally charged. She is vital. And also, very vulnerable. But you only see her vulnerability through her eyes.

For her first solo exhibition in Mexico, she was too unwell to travel and had been advised to stay at home and recuperate. With dogged determinedness, she shunned the doctor’s words and arranged to be transported to the opening, her bed followed behind in a truck. I don’t idolise many people, or connect with the famous or even infamous but I have to say, she sets a shining example to women and feminists everywhere. She was way ahead of her time. She painted things people were too afraid to discuss. She had opinions, raw emotions. She did not care about what they thought of her life and her loves. She was strong and compassionate, assertive yet very feminine.

“…one of history’s grand divas…a tequila-slamming, dirty joke-telling smoker, bi-sexual that hobbled about her bohemian barrio in lavish indigenous dress and threw festive dinner parties for the likes of Leon Trotsky, poet Pablo Neruda, Nelson Rockefeller, and her on-again, off-again husband, muralist Diego Rivera.“

I wish Frida had lived a little later. It would have been a resplendent honour to have her as my fantasy dinner guest. I wouldn’t need to invite anyone else.

It’s Not Sacrifice, It’s Compromise

Boy meets girl. Girl likes boy. Boy and girl love everything about each other, “it’s like we’re soulmates”. They shack up and he says “don’t ever change”. It’s cos he loves everything about her, he says. Girl feels smug and happy to have found her other half. Now life can really begin.

Life is one big honeymoon. Boy can’t do enough to spoil his favourite girl and girl is overjoyed he feels this way. It’s early days but he/she is the one. She is looking forward to meeting his friends. They’re a nice bunch, most are married and they all seem to get along. Except.. Whenever there’s a big night out, the wives always stay at home. Boy says to girl “sshh, don’t tell any of the WAGS, they wouldn’t like it if they knew you were coming.” Girl feels privileged but also a little bit wrong. “But why can’t they come?” Well.. “Cos they’re a bunch of lushes and I do not want to talk about children when we’ve had a few. Anyway, you’re different, Pixie.” Girl thinks this has not cleared the matter for her. Boy also has two children from a previous relationship. Why would he not want to talk about his children?

“It’s funny,” he carries on, “I still have all my friends from uni, we even moved to the same area to be together afterwards, but the other day, I asked Kay who the bridesmaid in her wedding pics was,” rolls his eyes, licks the cigarette paper “it was someone she hasn’t spoken to in 15 years. I mean, this person was a bridesmaid at her wedding! I’ve asked the other girls too, none of them are in touch with their old friends anymore”. Girl didn’t have to think very hard before she responded, “they’re mothers now. They don’t have the choice”. Boy goes all soft focus, the cogs ticking away in his head.. “I never thought of it like that before,” he says.

“No, you just thought they weren’t very nice people!”

Women go through their first physical and mental transformation as young girls. Sure, boys go through puberty too, they change physically to become bigger and stronger. In comparison, they evolve rather than transform. For a girl, once she begins her period and physically begins to resemble a woman, she is no longer the same person. There are certain expectations of her. She is on course to fulfilling her biological destiny and if, for whatever reason, she decides it is not for her; society will frown upon and call her barren. Or butch. Just plainly, unnatural. Men, on the other hand can leave it as long as they like. For some, becoming a father means they’ll have to do some overtime and working as hard as they do, it’s only fair they rally the boys and blow off some steam come the weekend.

“You said you’d be in this weekend”, girl says dejectedly. Boy flares his nostrils and avoids looking her in the eyes.

“What is this? I thought you were happy with me spending time with the boys?”

Girl thinks hard of what to say next, she wouldn’t want to be accused of being a nag.

“I just thought we could spend some time together.” He starts pacing, pretending to look for his keys. He doesn’t like this creeping feeling of neediness. What is it with women?

“Look, I told you in the beginning, this is the way I live my life. I told you I wouldn’t change, but YOU have.” Girl feels guilty but also angry. She’d dreamed of one day finding the one. They would spend every second together because she thought that was what it would be like to be in love. Boy was almost 35; surely he’d had enough of the boys by now?

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll find something else to do.” Boy sulkily brushes past her and gathers his things together.

”Go where you like but don’t hang out with that tosser I don’t like and don’t wear that dress you bought yesterday, it makes you look like a tart.” Girl sinks a bit deeper.

When two people come together, they do because of the love they feel for each other. Most people have an idea of what they want from a relationship, most people want commitment and to be part of a unit. Relationships have a natural progression. When most women become mothers, they will never be the same again. They can never go back to the time just before they got pregnant. This is also true of women who do not carry full term. Something fundamental changes in their perspective on life, be it the combination of hormones and stress or a spiritual awakening and connection with creation, life is not just about having fun. It is about nurturing and selflessness. She is no longer number 1, she is 1 of 2. Old university mates will never be forgotten, bridesmaids are etched in our hearts but the screaming, pooping, and feeding is current and constant.

How involved the father is, is entirely down to how committed he is. There are fathers who bathe their children, mop the sick up, read them a story and put them to bed. They enjoy their children’s company and don’t call it babysitting. But there are many others who become violent when mothers are at their most vulnerable. “She made me do it with her whinging, moaning, nagging, trouble-making”. Pregnancy is not a walk in the park! Expect tears.

“I’m still the same person I’ve always been. I’ll never change.”

More fool you.

How you can help

Friends.

With Refuge facing closure due to government funding cuts of over 50%, women need your support more now than ever before.

Southall Black Sisters established in 1979, provide support to BME women at risk of or fleeing domestic abuse. Whenever there are cuts, services for the most vulnerable go first.

In response to the inherent racism and sexism we face in modern day Britain, I have decided to give up my long locks in protest and hopefully make a few pennies along the way.

Don’t worry, it’ll grow back!

We can’t bring women back from the dead though.

This year so far, there have been 47 gender related murders.

PLEASE DONATE:

Southall Black Sisters: http://www.justgiving.com/Sam-Ambreen?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=tweetfeed&utm_campaign=mypages

Refuge: http://www.justgiving.com/Sam-Ambreen0?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=tweetfeed&utm_campaign=mypages

Thank you for your support.

The shame we feel as women

It creeps up suddenly; self-consciously you adjust your posture to close in a little on yourself. Your eyes drop downwards. Suddenly you feel very exposed. This happens frequently; whether in a meeting at work or walking into a bar and almost certainly when walking home late at night. By slouching, we hope to divert attention away from our breasts, by avoiding eye contact, we can hope they won’t think we brought it on ourselves. We are reminded everywhere we turn, of the temptations we promise, and if we don’t fit the bill, we can be stuffed and pumped up with man-made fillers and human bum fat. If we’re healthy, we’re “starting to waddle”, a timely reminder we shouldn’t eat so much else who will fancy us?

The shaming begins early. They make mini-skirts and boob tubes for 3 year olds. I will always feel sick to the stomach remembering the fascination with Emma Watson’s impending sweet sixteen. Her boyish figure on the turn, she still looked like little Hermione Granger to me. But the lad mags cooed and pushed and towed the line. The difference a day makes, predatory behaviour now legal. The men writing these articles, having this ‘fun’ ‘banter’ are in their 20s and 30s. What kind of meaningful discussion could be had between a young person and a fully grown male adult?

“Getting a bit podgy” they remark when you embark early adolescence. Girls get called sluts for letting boys kiss them. And frigid, for refusing to bow to pressure. The shaming naming begins; slut, slag, whore, cunt, bitch, pussy, ho, sket, ‘punaani’ and many others I’m glad not to think of off the top of my head. When these words are spat, they are designed to cut to the core of woman, what lies between your legs is dirt and because of it you choose to be shamed in this way, with the very same words they use to describe your vagina. They cut deep. Toxic and humiliating, they are effective. The world has made it so. Half of the world’s population has a menstrual cycle, the most crucial component of the human condition and yet, it is considered unclean. In many religions, women are forbidden from intercourse/intimacy at this unholiest of times of the month, forbidden from entering places of worship or from handling holy texts. A ritualistic bath is required to cleanse the body of impurity once bleeding ceases. This dirty blood provides the cushion for nestling cells from which all life springs forth! It nurtures life! It is creation! But they would have us believe it’s a punishment for eating an apple, bleeding comparable to a “stuck pig”.

I am ashamed to admit, in the past, I have used men for protection. You can walk the streets at 2am, your heels clicking on the street, without the fear of someone pouncing over your shoulder. Walk into a bar and they’ll look once but maybe not twice, you don’t even have to think of who is where and whether they could get too close.

1 in 4 women will experience rape or an attempted rape. How can one begin to understand why this is a reality?

But sometimes the same men we look to for protection, violate us. You are more likely to be raped by your husband or partner than a complete stranger. In fact, 1 in 7 women have been coerced into sex. I would call this rape too. In my work with women, I asked “have you ever been raped?” Most women would reply “no”. Follow that question on with “have you ever had sex when you did not want to?” A large proportion then replies “yes”. Non consensual sex is rape. Why do these women feel it is not? In many parts of the world, sex is an ordeal for women, its only function to satisfy man so that he may create life. Male life, preferably. They have been brainwashed into believing that their role as woman is to suffer, because they are temptresses and they are asking for it.

Here in the West we are filled with outrage at the brutality our sisters in the East must suffer. They are not permitted to touch holy books when bleeding; they cannot excitedly declare their pregnancies for they are the result of impure deeds. The birth of a daughter is mourned not celebrated. When challenged, many will defend their rights to such feelings because, one day, their daughter must leave. She is only theirs temporarily, someday soon she will be handed over to another man and her destiny will be in his hands. They can only pray he will be merciful. This belief that daughters are born a burden drives families to increasingly barbaric methods of control; where death is a desirable outcome, preferable to shaming of the family name. What is more shameful than the taking of a life? Why is all the honour of a family placed on its female members? Like a classic car, they are cared for and then sold. No previous owners, no mileage on the clock and you get a brand new CD player, with the plastic still on it and everything. Be sure to check it’s sealed properly; otherwise you are entitled to renege on the deal. Your statutory rights will not be affected.

We have every right to feel angry. How can the world stand by and allow such suffering? Such behaviour justifies war, apparently. “Have you seen how they treat their women?” THEIR women? “True story right, mate was on tour, walking through a village in Kandahar and there was this pretty girl putting the washing out, anyway, they only looked at her and her husband came running out and beat her in front of them. She was pregnant too”. Well, in that case, why don’t you bomb the whole lot and make it your country? How about not staring at pretty girls in a country where rapists are made to marry their victims? The person telling me this story was the last person to educate me in global women’s rights. I knew him to be a user of women; he thought it was funny that he and his 10 friends had collectively taken their turns with the ‘village bike’. His words, not mine.

2 women a week are murdered in the UK. Many of these post separation. Perpetrators murder because the victim failed to obey, or she left or they felt she was going to leave or they’d heard she was sleeping around, for example. Perpetrators feel betrayed and angry and humiliated and so they murder. Is this not also a question of perceived ‘honour’?

15 year old Gemma’s brother in law decided to maul her at home, whilst the family were elsewhere in the house. When she asked, in shock, why he would do such a thing, he responded he’d heard she was a slag so thought he would try his luck. There are girls born free for all, they would have us believe. Bound by secrets and lies, many women suffer in silence. They did not report when they were violated, their resignation an unspoken norm in our 21^st century Western society.

I was very young when I first acknowledged I was lucky to be born British, access to a free education being one of the perks. I resented being brought up Asian in a culture that despised us; our clothes were different and we spoke a funny language. I yearned to be English. I wanted to wear shorts and begged my parents for a paddling pool. I loved music and was thrilled to learn my secondary school specialised in this area. It quickly dawned on me, however, that the music teacher only picked the girls with short skirts and beige canvas shoes. I had been graded a clear A for my singing ability but despite this, he would only speak to me briefly and on occasion, ignore me completely. Even at this young age, I knew it was because he did not like me for who I was. It was a well-known fact, a scandal, that this same teacher was married to a previous pupil of the school, 30 years his junior. Aged 11, I felt life was unfair, if I had a short skirt, I could sing a solo too.

I rebelled, naturally. Under my school uniform of shirt and trousers, I’d wear vest tops and wonderbras. Having been an exceptional student throughout my schooling, I started truanting. Aged 15, my friends and I would sneak into wine bars, shirts and ties stuffed deep into our schoolbags. We’d share a couple of lager and limes and marvel at our grown-upness. We had our fair share of male attention. Made up to look 20, I soon started dating a 19 year old. He knew how old I was but that didn’t stop him. My skirts got shorter, my eyelashes ridiculously fat. And why? Aged 15, I’d learnt I had to attract men to get noticed. The contrast between home-life and the world outside the front door was confusing and given the choice I chose the unknown. English girls seemed free. I believed this until aged 22, I applied for a job working in a domestic violence refuge. My attitude rapidly changed as I learnt about feminist principles and how they came to be. In the year 2004, I learnt that women, English women, were being murdered for daring to leave their partners. Domestic abuse is estimated to be the biggest killer of women aged 19-44. Although there are no figures to say for sure, it is estimated that less than half of all incidents are reported to the police and yet, they still manage to receive a call a minute.

“We don’t treat our women like that over here”. OUR women? And yes, yes you do.

We can’t get drunk in case we get raped. We can’t walk the streets at night because then we’re just working them. We can’t wear skirts above the knee or a top revealing the outline of our breasts (like, totally asking for it). If we speak up about our bodies, our choice; we’re baby killing lesbians. If we dare to leave, we leave ourselves open to further attack. If we have more than a few partners, we are slags. If we get raped, we lied about it (unless it was a stranger who dragged you into the bushes in broad daylight, wearing a balaclava, wielding a knife.) What were you wearing? How many sexual partners have you had? Why kiss him if you did not want to have sex? When pregnant, we become vessels. Strangers will chastise you for smoking a cigarette, cupping their hands around your swollen stomach. Why do our pregnant bodies become public property? A visible panty line is the mother of all sins. Our vaginas scrutinised for signs of a camel’s hoof. Young Western girls have their labia minora sliced off so they can resemble their 3 year old selves. At the first sign of fuzz, we shave, wax and depilate ourselves as soft as a baby’s bum. What is so attractive about resembling an infant? When we ask for anything, we nag. When we speak up, we are uppity. We are trouble-makers. We aim to cause mischief. We are responsible for the breakdown of family life. We are the upholders of original sin. We dumb ourselves down to get on in life, lest we are seen as a threat. And still, there are people out there who think we have too much.

When feminism first began, it made a massive difference to the lives of Western women. They made the world change its laws to recognise woman as man’s equal. In a short space of time, they were able to elevate the status of woman to a place where she could be considered, on the surface of it, an equal in a developed world. And yet, here we are 101 years after the first International Women’s Day, developing callouses from the tug of war we are still having with patriarchy. We have papers like the Daily (Hate Fe) Mail refusing to refer to violence against women as domestic abuse. Unless of course it is a female perpetrator. Women of the Western world are frantically knitting uteruses for congressmen in the hope they’ll keep their hands off theirs. And one is never stuck for a pro-choice rally to attend. They’re obsessed with our hairy armpits and shame us for having non-blonde body hair. We write to spread awareness of our struggle, but in doing so we leave ourselves open to attack from sexually threatened men. If only it were that easy to shut a woman up!

It is not a question of OUR women or THEIR women; we do not belong to man. We brown women do not need white knights in shining armour to rescue us from the savages and white women are not just sleeping with black men because they have larger penises. Wherever we are in the world, we are controlled because we are female. We birth the boys, they, as well as the girls, come from our vaginas. Is it a fear of creation? Is it a jealousy, an inadequacy at not being able to do the same? It must be shunned because it is incomprehensible? Whatever it is, it’s bullshit.

Woman to Woman

The article asked the question, “Do women make it hard for women to progress?” I linked it to Twitter and very quickly, I received a reply. “The Answer is: YES they do.. And I’m talking about Feminists as much as women who just get on with their own lives.” Pause for effect. The implication that feminists do not have lives bothers me a little but I am more concerned with the women apparently living their womanly lives. Everybody has the right to choose who it is they want to be, I just want to understand what separates women into women and feminists.

Feminists keep the spotlight on inequality and strive for a better world, for men and for women. Without feminists, we would not have the right to vote, to birth control, better pay and working conditions. It is feminists who have fought for better maternity and paternity benefits so that women have the freedom to work and continue their careers, helping not just mothers but fathers too. The law would still allow husbands to rape their wives, not just ‘coerce’. Battery was not an arrestable offence, merely a ‘domestic’.

Are there really women out there who would prefer the alternative? If they prefer to be violated and spoken down to and dismissed, then they can say categorically, they are not part of the movement.

Working as an IDVA, I once received a call from the local police who were in agreement to refer very high risk clients to us with or without consent, the potential harm outweighing confidentiality. It was pretty serious. The officer making the call relished describing how he had mentioned our organisation to the woman but she had responded aggressively, “I do not want to talk to those lesbians.” No doubt I was irked by the misogynists I had to share my working day with, but I was really concerned by this woman’s response. Why had she reacted in this way? Perpetrators often get victims to withdraw statements, their behaviour irrational and jumpy; they can come across as quite hostile. These words came out of a misogynist mouth but I couldn’t say for sure whether it was because she was being coerced or she had come to the conclusion herself.

I want to speak to these women and find out why we are the enemy when all we do; we do out of love for humankind. We are woman focused but we are the mothers of future men, we are women after all. By educating women and furthering their progress, we can hope to raise better boys. Ones who do not turn to violence, or thrive on an automatic right to take. The divide between men and women is perpetuated by damaged people who feel the need to control. Men and women.

Man Says You’re Doing It Wrong

There is something scarily hilarious about men telling women how to do feminism. For centuries, they have dictated how we live and interact, making the important decisions because our delicate female brains couldn’t possibly handle them. They have dressed us how they’d like us, from burqas in the east to miniskirts and stilettos in the west, most of what we wear is catered to the local man’s tastes. They have managed to convince some women in the world that the only way to prevent sexual attack is to become indistinguishable from the next woman; save only for their eyes, which must not be enhanced in any way, make up is strictly forbidden. If the veil slips a little, Mohammed Bloggs can whip you in broad daylight and some will even be subjected to a virginity test. If her vagina is so sacred, why are strange people touching it without her express consent?

We live in a society where most people cannot believe that their friend is capable of domestic abuse. In my work as a DV worker, I came across a variety of perps, from all walks of life. Yes, there were alcoholics and drug abusers, prolific perpetrators, but then there were also senior psychiatric nurses, housing officers, famous musicians and comedians and sexual deviants with day jobs in Parliament. The world idolises misogynists, from Hunter S Thompson and Bret Easton Ellis to Roman Polanski and Woody Allen, privilege buys them immunity from laws we fought hard for to protect womankind. Their anger and vitriol against women makes them interesting to men who feel the same way. We live in a man’s world and what he says goes. “Oh but he’s so talented and so witty.” Like Frankie Boyle? Why do people laugh at depravity? What is funny about a disabled child trying to rape his mother?

Ellis told the Guardian “If you’re writing about a misogynist, does that then make a book misogynist? I don’t think I’m a misogynist. But even if I was, so what? So you’re a misogynist – so what? So you’re a homophobe, or a racist – so what? Does that make your art less interesting? I don’t think so. Call me a misogynist. I think basically most men are misogynistic. And it is what it is.”

Hm. So it doesn’t matter that it is damaging to women, just that people should find it interesting. Who cares if a few women get hacked or young girls get sodomised and then denied justice because Switzerland is happy about harbouring child rapists? Polanski pleaded guilty to ‘having sex with a 13 year old’, he served 42 days of his sentence but scarpered before they could hold him any longer. Rape apologists think of him as poor Polanski, some explain away his raping of a minor as a delayed reaction to the murder of his pregnant wife. Having experienced unwanted and illegal male attention aged 10, 15 and then between 17 and 21, I can’t say it has inspired me to sexually assault the male of the species.

They tell us our brand of feminism won’t work. “Feminism and bitterness do not make good bedfellows”. Being the most optimistic person I know, I can’t say I am bitter about life. About misogyny, yes. If there was a reduction in misogyny, this would also affect the level of bitterness I feel. I was called bitter for calling a perp, a perp. If a man ever thumps someone, whatever their justification, he is a perp. If he refuses to clean or pesters for money/sex, he is a perp. If he plays women against each other “just be grateful, you’re the one who won me!” He is a perp. If he sleeps around and denies it as though butter wouldn’t melt, he is a perp. If he calls you a slag, a slut, a whore, a cunt, he is a perp. If he refuses to have himself tested for sexually transmitted diseases, he is a perp. If he encourages you to take drugs, he is a perp. If he ever says “but I would never hit a woman”, you can be pretty sure he probably has. If he keeps company with wife beaters and womanisers, he is a perp. By condoning such behaviour, he is in agreement that sometimes it is justified. Violence against women is never ok. Decent men will always walk away.

They feel it’s their place to educate you, true misogynists really believe in their superiority.

“How do you ever expect to learn anything? Just a thought.”

Erm, I’m a reader? I study the world news on a daily basis. I keep my ear to the ground for local news. My 30 years of life feels like twice that amount, a lot has happened in a very short space of time, for me. But apparently what I really need is for a man to teach me the real truth. I imagine the average man believes me to be a Birkenstock wearing lesbian wanting to smash all men instead of patriarchy. “I just hope you get passed your hatred of men one day.”

I will never stop hating dominating, perpetrating, raping, sliming, sleazing, lying, womanising miscreants EVER.

If I were a man, I would not have strange men clamouring to educate me. If I were a man, I’d be accused of being a lily livered pussy, whipped by man-haters.com into letting men down by acknowledging the abuse and injustice women must face.

Controlling men control women, but they also control men too.

Anti-Cut Haircut

Someone once told me I wouldn’t be so pretty without hair. I have a round face and a rather large head. It carries my big brain, is what I tell people.

I had an unusual relationship with it when I was growing up. Coming from a strict background, I had no autonomy with regards to my hair. It was to be covered as part of my religion and I wasn’t allowed to have it cut, often being told that God had forbidden young girls from styling their hair in a manner so as to entice men. I can remember having it braided so tightly, my head hurt.

So when I ran away, aged 15, the first thing to go were my Rapunzelesque locks.

“I wanna look like Rachel” I grinned to the stylist at Toni and Guys. My aunt had arranged for it to be done, she understood the reasons why. My name and my hair were no longer required. Driven by the need to emancipate myself, my hair became progressively shorter in the years that followed until I was left with a boyish crop. And I hated it. I had nothing to hide behind or flick back. It was so thick, it became impossible to style. So I grew it and vowed never to cut my nose off to spite my face, ever again.

I grew it and trimmed it and clung on to it like a comfort blanket. Until aged 25, I went to review a salon as a favour for a friend. I couldn’t normally afford to have such a do, the stylist was renowned for his work with a Bollywood clientele and much of his work graced the pages of the top glossies. I trusted him to know hair and faces and style. So I gave him carte blanche. He didn’t hesitate. With one swift action, he’d rounded my hair up at the nape of my neck and chopped it off. I felt the blood pool into my feet. He swivelled my chair around and pulled forward some hair. “Don’t give me a fringe!” I shrieked. I have a cow’s lick that makes fringes stick up. Snip! The hair was gone. He scissored away some more until I was peeking out from beneath my designer fringe. I hated it! And I hated him!

I felt like a part of my womanhood had been hacked away. The friend I was with looked at me sympathetically. “Dude, you look about 15.”

It was another 6 months before I felt like myself again. Once again, I solemnly vowed I would never be parted from another of my beloved strands for as long as I lived.

Except today I got to thinking, if my hair means so much to me, it’s got to be worth something. I’m not able to work, I have no income but I do feel an increasing urge to give. Or do something at least. If I could make, say £5000 for women’s services, sure, I’d give up my hair.

If I could do my bit to help save Refuge, I wouldn’t think twice. If I could share some of that with, say Southall Black Sisters, it’s a done deal.

It feels a little bit crazy. And the selfish part of me that loves me and my hair is telling me I’m mad. But when the CEO of Refuge is saying “In my entire career, I have never been more concerned about our survival”, I know my hair will grow back.

Refuge must survive; there are women whose lives depend on it.

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/bob-morgan/domestic-violence-and-women_b_1420840.html?ref=uk

Why Do We Abort?

Jane* was a client at one of the places I worked. She was a working mum, barely making enough to break even with childcare costs but she preferred to work. She had been accessing our service for a while. We provided support to women still in abusive relationships, safety planning so as to reduce the frequency of abusive incidents.

She adored her small child; she was maternal and caring and would often begin a conversation with an update on how her baby was doing. Except on this occasion she was fighting to get her words out. She’d called me at the office, asked for an emergency appointment, she’d just found out she was pregnant. I asked her what she wanted to do. “I can’t keep it.” She repeated this sentence a few times. I asked her why. “Because the last time I was pregnant, I lived in fear for my baby’s life.”

30% of domestic violence starts in pregnancy.

Between 4 and 9 pregnant women in every 100 are abused during and after their pregnancies.

(Women’s Aid Statistics)

That’s right. When a woman is at her most vulnerable, most in need of support to protect and nurture the life she is creating within, she has an increased likelihood of experiencing violence at the hands of the father of her child. I’m reminded of a training course where a male middle manager responded to this fact by saying “women are a nightmare when they’re pregnant; I’m not surprised some men react”. An acquaintance shared how his father had beaten his mother when she was suffering postnatal depression. He’d grown up believing his father had been pushed to the limit. It is only when I challenged his belief by pointing out that pregnancy is a difficult time for women, many people appreciate this and make allowances, decent people at least, that he began to see it differently. Personally, I could not understand how he had ever felt his father had been justified. But then, this acquaintance had also been beaten.

Jane felt guilty she had already subjected one of her children to this man. She had been taking steps to leave him, setting a little money aside each week, moving her baby’s toys out one at a time. She did not want to have sex with him. She tried to say no at the start but knew better than to say it again. And so she became pregnant.

“I can’t keep it”. I had to respect her wishes so I arranged for her to attend a Marie Stopes clinic. I went with her. She held my hand whilst we waited, but barely spoke. I wanted to say it was OK if she changed her mind but didn’t want to sound like I was suggesting anything. I just reassured her that I was there to talk, without judgement, if she needed. She smiled gratefully whenever she looked at me and my heart broke a little for her. She was a good woman and an exceptional mother. She shouldn’t have to go through this. But I knew she had no choice. The alternative would mean reinforcing their relationship, enduring another nine months of physical and mental torture, the effects of which would leave a lasting impression on the foetus inside her womb. Attachment and dependency on a person who seeks to control and manipulate and abuse, even his own children should he see fit. She wanted a better life for her children.

I stand by her choice because I have seen the alternative. Abigail* had three children and was expecting a fourth from her new partner. He was a known sex offender. Because of her faith, Abigail did not have the choice to abort. She was however frightened for her life. She endured being dragged around by her hair in the 8^th month of her pregnancy. Whilst she was in labour, she had to defend herself from an attack, struggling to prise his fingers from her neck as she experienced another contraction. Following multiple agency intervention, her children were eventually removed from her by social services for neglecting the needs of her children by remaining with her partner. It did not matter that Abigail had been warned she would die if she ever did. The perpetrator was not being brought to justice through a lack of physical evidence, yet they had enough evidence to call her a bad mother and take her children away. How many pregnancies start off unwanted and end up in the care system?

And then there was Sarah*, a very close friend of mine. Following a casual relationship, she discovered she was quite happy to be expecting. She hadn’t known her partner very long but he seemed nice enough and in agreement about the pregnancy. They sailed through the first few weeks, excited about their little secret. One day she called me. “I can’t do it”, she simply said. They’d been out together at the work’s Christmas do. She thought he’d had enough to drink and attempted to hold his arm. He responded by pushing her down. My brave and strong friend did not want a child with a man who did not care about harming her or the baby. She was upset before the termination. And through it. But she maintained she’d made the right choice.

One of the main reasons we abort is to protect the future. Pregnancy is vulnerability. No longer are you only responsible for yourself but innocent new life that does not deserved to be abused. “Pro-lifers” argue that the foetus has rights, more rights than that of the mother. Despite the mother’s mental and physical well-being, she is a vessel bringing forth Mr Man’s seed and effectively signs over her rights. Is it preferable that unwanted pregnancies are forced to continue thus resulting in unwanted children who will have possibly been abused, growing into abusers themselves when they are big enough?

When a 12 year old school friend had to abort, where were the “pro-lifers” and their campaigns to make fathers more accountable?

How many domestic violence refuges offer mother and baby units? Not very many.

This war on women and our wombs is not about the brazen baby killers. It’s about control.

And patriarchy.

Again.

*Names have been changed

** I am aware that this entry has received some attention from ‘no choicers’ who think I have chosen to justify ‘killing of the unborn’ by using domestic violence as some sort of get out clause. They have made the assumption that this is an easy option rather than tackling the abuse and helping mothers leave abusive relationships. *sigh*

I have been involved in women’s services almost 10 YEARS as a refuge worker, outreach floating support in the community and advocate for women at risk of domestic abuse, at crisis point and survivors. I am fully aware of the support available to women both through the state and various charitable organisations.

No choicer comments:

“The fact that these women DO have a choice, i.e. to leave their abusive relationships”

NO THEY DON’T. 76% OF WOMEN LEAVING ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS WILL FACE ANOTHER INCIDENT OF VIOLENCE FOR DARING TO LEAVE THEIR PARTNER. WOMAN IS PROPERTY, WOMAN HAS NO AUTONOMY.

“If she is helped to extricate herself from the abuse and domestic violence, then so will her children be too!”

EASY SPEAKING AS A MAN ISN’T IT? THE ONUS IS ON A VULNERABLE WOMAN TO GET HERSELF AND HER CHILDREN OUT. WHERE IS THE PRESSURE ON VIOLENT MEN TO STOP BEING VIOLENT?

“If there is a lack of mother and baby united in women’s refuges, campaign and fundraise for more!”

MAKING ASSUMPTIONS AGAIN.. NO CHOICER, DO YOU KNOW THE DEVASTATING EFFECT TORY GOVERNMENT CUTS HAVE ALREADY HAD ON WOMEN? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW RECESSION OFTEN HURTS THE MOST VULNERABLE, IE WOMEN AND CHILDREN LEAVING VIOLENT RELATIONSHIPS? SUPPORT FOR VULNERABLE WOMEN AND CHILDREN IS NOT CONSIDERED IMPORTANT UNDER RICH WHITE MEN.

“If society is lacking in holding fathers to account, campaign and politically lobby for a change in the law so they can be – but don’t think that you can say “father’s have no rights” if then you wish to make them accountable, it doesn’t work!”

NO CHOICER, THESE THINGS WILL NOT HAPPEN IN MY LIFETIME. IT PAINS ME THAT PROTECTING VULNERABLE WOMEN AND CHILDREN IS MY LIFE’S WORK AND YET I KNOW, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS AND OF THE THOUSANDS OF WOMEN WORKING TIRELESSLY EVERYDAY, WOMEN EXPERIENCING DOMESTIC VIOLENCE WILL CONTINUE TO ABORT THEIR PREGNANCIES BECAUSE.. PATRIARCHY.

THAT’S YOU SIR. WITH YOUR JUDGMENT AND CONTROL. YOUR RELIGIONS AND YOUR PATHETIC OPINIONS.

Solidarity with my sisters. It is your body, it is your choice. #Feminism

Say It Lots And Say It Loud: I’m A Feminist And Proud

People love to hate feminism. Its core values have been to promote equality between the sexes; political, social and economical. By definition, one could assume that all women would like equality and therefore all women must be feminists. Sadly, this is not true. Feminism has been given a different meaning, one that has been distorted to mean oppression rather than freedom.

I was once told by a feminist that “real feminists do not have to announce they are feminists”. I was left feeling like feminist was a dirty word that we must disassociate ourselves from. It was ok to feel like a feminist and act like a feminist but you couldn’t tell anyone you were one. I encountered a negative response any time I uttered the words “I am a feminist”. People knew about my work, they knew I believed in equal rights and whilst we spoke of these things in the context of social impact and global development of women, it was fine. Most people agreed, most people do hope for a better future for their daughters. Without the dreaded feminist word.

“Feminism has had its day, it’s time to move on as its less about gender and more about education and equality for all then just for women… Injustice is just that injustice. It doesn’t pick a gender, race or creed, people do. This is why I hate feminism, it detracts from the fact that there are many people, men and women, who are unjustly treated, beaten and abused.”

So says a dear friend of mine, who was himself abused by a woman.  I like to think everyone has a friend who they can argue with till they’re blue in the face, it’s going to end in fisticuffs until one suddenly lets up that they were just playing advocate. This is the relationship I have with this friend. He’s a feminist but doesn’t know it. The response he had from the police was an example of best practice. He was offered advice around his options, sympathetic and methodical. Although I do not have much experience of men accessing domestic abuse services, this one example was dealt with efficiently and empathically. Until we achieve equality in authorities dealings with victims, 1 in 5 men and 1 in 10 women will continue to believe domestic violence against women is acceptable. Speaking to my colleagues, there is a perception that male victims of DV are much more likely to be believed by the police simply because they are men.

More worryingly, it is when women take issue with it that I have to question why feminism has left some women estranged from the cause.

“ABSURD ‘feminists’ label all men who don’t roll over and comply as rapists.’Feminists’ do all women a disservice.”

This in response to men should take more responsibility when attempting to sleep with an inebriated partner. Decency dictates that if either partner is in such a state that they might not remember, it’s probably best to leave it. We live in a society where women feel it their duty to protect themselves from attack. Don’t get so drunk you cannot consent. Whilst men are free to get as drunk as they like without a perceived threat to their sex. If a group of men got drunk and one of their party chose to have stick it into another whilst he was too drunk to consent, that would be rape. No questions asked. He wouldn’t be asked whether his clothing was too revealing. We wouldn’t dream of saying he had lured the rapist into his bed with his provocative behaviour. We wouldn’t suggest it would not have happened had he been sober.

The more I try to understand the role of woman in society, the more I struggle to remain focused on equality. How can I accept that “feminism has had its day” when we are further from equality than we were 2 years ago? The global war on women has reached dizzying heights of violation. Our wombs are up for debate, both sides of the Atlantic. I have never witnessed such a fixation on the reproductive rights of women, misinformation around abortion and toxic shaming of those who make the choice to abort. I cannot think of a more gross violation of an individual’s human rights and the right to privacy than the pro-lifers camping outside abortion clinics. Their actions are forceful and coercive. How can they be allowed to protest when protest for the masses is being criminalised? An on such a deeply private matter.

They’re turning the clock back to their 70s by withdrawing crucial funding. Right now, we must accelerate our feminist activities, spread our arms and become more inclusive. Otherwise we’ll hear more news like this:

“Pavan Amara interviewed 38 working class women from across the country for her report that was published on the F-Word website last week. She found that working class women had effectively been excluded by a movement that was failing to reach the people who really needed it. It was only when the class divide was crossed that the problem became evident.”

(http://www.islingtontribune.com/reviews/cinema/2012/mar/feminism-failing-are-working-class-women-being-excluded-movement)

Coming from a working class background, 2^nd generation Asian, I would say there is some truth to this statement. I didn’t notice one day I was part of the movement; I was born this way. I actively sought it and initially struggled to find my part in it. There is a divide between white middle class feminists and the rest of us. I found my experiences a hindrance to my work. Somehow because of what I was going through and in some way, still experiencing, I felt my contribution was not as valid as someone who had done a degree in Gender Studies and a Masters in Women’s Rights. Surely the people best placed to help people overcome abuse are those who have been there and felt it themselves? Isn’t that where true empathy comes from?

As with an ideology, there will be sections and subsections sprouting from wherever it can be extended. For my part, I cannot understand the Transphobia emanating from some radicals on the feminist spectrum. The root meaning of the word for me is equality. And I do believe we can achieve equality together, female and male feminists working together to smash patriarchy.

Feminists of the world unite; you have nothing to lose but your shackles.