Theme Layout

Boxed or Wide or Framed

Theme Translation

Display Featured Slider

Featured Slider Styles

[Centred][caption2]

Display Grid Slider

Grid Slider Styles

[style5]

Display Trending Posts

No

Display Author Bio

No

Display Instagram Footer

yes

Archive

© 2015 mo'adore | Content and design by Morag Lee | Powered by Blogger.

A ramble on goals, capitalism, a new decade, heteronormativity, and turning 30...the fun stuff.




In case you haven't heard, it's a new decade and it's time for a new start. What have you achieved in the past decade? What will you achieve in the next decade you underperforming failure of a human?!>!!

Meh. 

My little space on the internet was born as part of a New Year's resolution in 2011, and in a few days, my blog will celebrate its ninth birthday. If my blog was a person it would be halfway through primary school. 

Those of you who have been with me since the start of mo'adore will know that my attitude towards goals and resolutions has changed wildly. I used to be very goal orientated. I was a preachy goal-maker who would look down her nose at people who had no drive. These days, I still work hard and shit but I've shredded the internalised belief that a higher level of productivity automatically makes someone a more worthwhile human being.  

There's nothing wrong with having goals, as long as you aren't doing them out of societal obligation. I still like to sit down at the turn of every new year and stake stock of where I am, decide if I am happy with where I am, and what to do about the bits that aren't too peachy. 

That tradition has never changed. These days though, I like to check in with myself about why I want to achieve each thing, as well as focusing on working on myself to be a better human rather than a mo productive part of the capitalist machine.

--

At the start of 2019, several of my plans were a bit dull if I'm being honest. I decided I wanted to become more domesticated in 2019. This I achieved. I'm now a full-blown Zoflora wanker who irons her bedsheets. I even bought a plant that I've managed not to kill. 

I liked achieving this goal because it's nice to come home to a clean house after a day at work. It's good for the soul (and my nostrils). I also cooked a lot of food in 2019, and have several new recipes that I can turn to for particular situations. That's nice too. Though I totally did mutilate my attempt at steamed buns. 

I also said that I would continue to save money so that I could buy my own flat. I haven't bought my own flat yet and my savings are still about the same. This is something I've had to learn to be okay with. I could buy right now if I wanted to, as my savings are high enough. But I got very lucky with my rented flat and I'd have to massively downgrade (and move further out of the city) if I bought now. While there are pros to buying now, ultimately I think I'd be less happy if I bought now - even if I would receive some congratulations cards in the post. Originally I had a plan to buy before I'm 30 and unless I happen to win the lottery before November, I'm unlikely to achieve that. But recently I've had to ask myself why I set myself the goal of buying by 30. There's no logical reason as to why I need a mortgage by this age. I just randomly came up with it, due to societal pressure.

(Side note: it drives me nuts on Tinder when people brag about being homeowners on their profiles - don't get me wrong it is nice to own and I certainly wouldn't complain if someone I was dating had a nice pad, but it makes you sound like a snobby Tory)

Style-wise I wanted to upgrade myself. I haven't done this, largely because of money. I don't have any new tattoos and piercings. The one major change in my appearance is that I became a specky - and splashed out on a pair of Michael Kors glasses that look really nice on my face.

I also gave up drinking (aside from special occasions) which wasn't a goal I decided on at the start of the year, but something I decided on in September. I woke up after a friend's birthday feeling pretty shit and unable to do anything that day. I had a bit of a realisation that I hadn't been able to do much of what I really wanted to recently because I had been on one too many nights out and had lost several days to hangovers. My reasons for giving up drinking centred around productivity and being mindful of where my time went, but I've still had to deal with ignorant a******* who can't just let me live. 

I did achieve something quite big but I wanted to recap on these boring goals for a bit. None of the above goals are particularly brag-worthy and the house-cleaning one did get me a few eye-rolls. No one is congratulating me on developing a cleaning schedule that works for me (though I'd appreciate it if they did).  

That's the thing about goals though: they should concentrate on things that make you happy. Having a cleaner house has improved my emotional wellbeing. Even if it doesn't found as fancy as "completed a PhD" or "had a baby". 

I would say over the course of the past year I didn't really achieve that much. There is one stand out achievement that did earn me congratulations on Twitter (I'll get to it) but I wouldn't say it *means more* to me that getting on top of my chores. 

Okay, so my stand-out achievement that made my parents squee in delight? I was elected onto the Glasgow Green Party Committee as an Ordinary Member. This is something that I am obviously delighted about, and I am proud of myself for putting myself forward (which was a bit scary because it involved standing on a stage and selling myself to a room full of people). I am not in any way shape or form downplaying this achievement, but what I am saying is that it's not necessarily more important to me just because it looks a bit better on social media than my other achievements (like learning how to make vegan meringues from chickpeas). 

Honestly, if I was to wrap up my 2019: it would be the year of rejection and things not working out. In my 2019 goals post, I mentioned that I wanted to get the wheels in motion for a career change. I applied for a Masters and didn't get in, which obviously blew (especially since two of my friends did get onto their chosen masters). 

I also said that I wanted to take dating more seriously, which I did and I'm still partnerless. When I wrote my 2019 blog post I actually had a crush on someone I knew in real life. In the spring I decided to shoot my shot and....it didn't work (though we are still friends which I am very grateful for *woo maturity points*). I gave love a chance on a few other occasions this year, more than any other year. While it didn't work out for me with any of these people, I can safely say that it was never meant to be. I also paid for Tinder Pro and can see when people I know in life have swiped right on me (lol). 

Oh, and I went on a dating show! Which is a very bizarre sentence that I didn't exactly imagine myself writing at the start of the year. It's still in the editing phase and should be out on iPlayer in spring. It's called Hot Property and the picker (who was not me) picks a date based on their bedrooms. So you'll all get to see what my bedsheets look like. Maybe my vibrator too. 

I did say that I wanted to be more vulnerable in 2019, and appearing on a dating show where the person rummages through your drawers is high-stakes vulnerable. Yay for vulnerability and not being scared of what people might say about you on national TV! I'm still tempted to have a close friend watch the show for me and make the call on whether watching it myself would be good for my emotional health. 

The thing is: I put myself out there more this year than in previous years, which meant that I faced more rejection than in previous years. I think I'm okay with this...as it means I know certain things weren't for me and I won't wonder if things were meant to be? Something like that. I'm still working on being okay with my failed attempt at uni and love.

-- 

But when we talk about 2020 goals, we're not just talking about the upcoming year. No! We're talking about the decade. And as a 1990 baby, it will be a new decade for me personally. I find decade goals weird because who knows what the fuck I'm going to want in five years time. I might decide to uproot and move to France (unlikely). Or I might decide to become an engineer (also unlikely). Or global warming will finally catch us and we'll all be dead (likely). 

The only thing I do know that I want to achieve in the next decade is a career change. I never planned to end up in marketing; it sort of just happened because when you leave school you pick something and get on with it. I don't hate it, but I've always had a niggling suspicion that it's not the thing I was meant to do. In the past year, I've identified something that seems a lot more "me" but it's an industry that can be very difficult to succeed in and there are not a lot of positions available in Scotland (though remote working is possible). I applied for university and didn't get in, but I've been working on a plan to boost my chances of getting in next year.



I shared the above image on my Facebook in August. It spoke to me because of the career aspect. I graduated at 21 with a degree I was always a bit iffy about, tried to make it work, but as I approach 30 I have decided that I really need to have a re-think. But I was conscious of people thinking I might have been trying to gather sympathy for my long-term single status. 

If you've been around since the start of mo'adore, you'll know that I've been single the whole time. There are a handful of personal reasons for this: including being in the closet, having emotional issues in my early 20s that I had to work through first, and (the main one) I just never met someone. I am okay with this, but it feels weird to say it out in loud (in public) that if I don't mean someone by October then I will have been officially single for a decade. 

One of my favourite books of this year was The Unexpected Joy of Being Single by Catherin Gray. Like me, she is a long-term single and had a lot of baggage she needed to address before meeting someone. One of the most poignant parts of the book was where she explained that most of us could be married by now if we really wanted to be. I could have stayed with my first boyfriend even though he made me angry on a weekly basis, or I could have agreed to be the girlfriend of the multiple men who have tried to convince me. But I walked away from every offer because it would have been the wrong choice. If I had stayed, sure, I'd be married but I'd probably also be miserable. 

Just like owning a house, I could do it if I really wanted to because it would make me look more put together on social media, but it would actually be the wrong choice in terms of my personal happiness. 

--

Just before I turned 20 (in 2010) I went through both a romantic and platonic break-up (both on very bad terms), wasn't eating very well, was very skinny (some people complimented me on on this!), still pretending that cheerleading was a thing I was into, awkward as fuck and was wanting to leave university. I was fucking miserable. But it was this misery that led me to finally starting the slow journey of finding happiness. 

Finding that happiness wasn't a linear process. It was made up of lots of little projects and lifestyle changes. Going vegetarian, finding my own personal style, ditching shit friends, finding better friends, moving to Glasgow, and - of course - coming out as bisexual. All these things lifted me to a higher level of life satisfaction that passing my driving test first time never did (I also never drove again).

When people on Twitter were talking about what they achieved in the past decade, it was usually getting published in a newspaper, finishing their degree, getting married, having a baby, or buying their first house. While these are great things to have achieved (if these things are right for you), they are very capitalist and heteronormative goals. They are not right for everyone and no one should feel bad for not having achieved those things.

I have people in my life who struggle with health problems, some of who are legally recognised as disabled. They haven't achieved a lot of the things above as they have to battle their own mind and body on a daily basis, let alone finish a degree or hold down a job. As much as I am proud of the people in my life who have received pay rises or bought a house this year, I will always be more proud of my loved ones whose biggest success this year was just staying alive, holding down a job, or attending all their therapy appointments.

My proudest achievement in the past decade? If you've read everything I've written in the past two years you'll already know: it was coming out as bisexual. In an ideal world, learning to love myself would have never been my proudest achievement because I should have never been to feel like I had to the fact that I can fall in love with women. 

I'm closing the decade as a happy human, who is largely content with her life, who has grown to love herself and accept that she likes girls (along with boys and non-binary people). 

My goals for the next decade, and my thirties when November hits, is to continue pursuing happiness and striving towards things that feel right in my gut. Not goals that society places on me.

Isn't that what we should all be aiming towards? 
QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

“I’m sorry, I’m at full capacity right now”...let’s chat boundaries in a friendship




If, like me, you love a bit of the good old Twitter you’ve probably noticed a screenshot floating around of a message exchange between two friends, asking if they had the emotional capacity for a vent. Innocent enough to be honest. This tweet, however, has caused a massive onslaught of divided opinion on whether friends should be available 24/7 for a vent or if we should be more considerate about what else could be going on in other people’s lives.

The tweet originated from US-based activist and writer, Melissa A Fabello. I’ve been a massive fan of Melissa’s work for many years, so much so that I support her on Patreon and have recently signed-up (and paid) for her Writing Course. I still remember stumbling across her old YouTube videos five years ago and falling down a massive rabbit hole. In fact, a lot of her online content has helped me become the person I am - so if you’re a fan of who I am, then you’ve got to give some credit to Melissa.

To see her ripped apart across the internet has felt weird as someone who credits her work as a major influence in my life. I do not know Melissa personally and can’t give a real-world account of what she is like to be around, but I can certainly say that her work has changed me for the better. Personal feelings aside, I’m going to give my fair and balanced opinion on the meme itself, setting boundaries in relationships (both romantic and platonic) and respecting people’s mental capacity to provide emotional support.

Melissa has spoken before about asking permission from people before dropping heavy shit on them (and understanding the difference between a friend and a therapist) so to me, this tweet didn’t seem particularly out of place. It’s a little formal and dry, yes, but the point is made, and if it’s an exchange between two friends they will likely customise it.

For just under a year, I have been making a conscious effort to ask someone “hey is it okay if I rant about my body image issues/a bad date/work to you right”. I understand that people have bad days, might be in the middle of a family gathering, or might be having a mental health flair up. Sometimes things happen where people can’t be there for you emotionally, just like people can’t always show up physically for you.

I do have friends with more emotional energy to give than others. That doesn’t mean that the friends with lower levels of emotional energy are worse friends than those who have a high tolerance. I personally do have a high tolerance for emotional stuff, and it’s very rare that I feel overwhelmed by emotional topics. Saying that though, I do get under the weather sometimes and just last weekend I did find myself having one of those days where I just lay in bed and aimlessly scrolled Facebook because I hadn’t had the best week.

Despite having a high threshold for emotionally-driven conversations, my threshold for in-person chat is very low. I am very introverted and can feel socially drained extremely easily (if you know me in real life you have probably noticed that my Tweets are much more invigorating than the awkward murmurs that come out of my mouth in person). This does mean that I might not be the most socially-available friend, even if I am quite quick at responding on Messenger. I would never, however, use this as an excuse to miss an important event such as a friend’s wedding or birthday party. I’d always suck those up. But as anyone who knows me quite well cab attest to, being around people too much can bring out the cranky side of me and it’s best for the health of my relationships that I’m given physical and social space when needed.


The importance of a support network

One thing that has really helped me manage my own emotions over the years and be there for other people, has been building a support network of people rather than expecting one or two people to fulfil every social and emotional need I have. Growing up we’re usually sold the idea of having a Best Friend who will be glued to our side, and then as we get older we will find a spouse (of a romantic and sexual nature) who will then become our everything.

I threw that idea out the window a long time ago and I am much happier because of it.

Having a support network means that I have different people who can show up for me in different ways. If someone isn’t feeling okay I have other people I can turn to. For example, just last weekend I was in a bit of a state because I received a few emotional hits that week - and different friends showed up for me in different ways. I also tweeted about one of the things that happened and received some Twitter support. Support can show up in numerous ways.

When I go on dates (I know I’m not the best person to dish out relationship advice) something I look out for is “does this person have a lot going on on?” or in other words: will this person expect me to be their everything because, to be frank, they have fuck all else going on? Couples who spend every waking and breathing moment together are welcome to do so - I’m not saying that relationship style is necessarily wrong - but it does confuse me how they...cope. I know from personal experience that having a partner who is constantly there with only the odd break for work commitments brings out a less pleasant side of me.

People are not bad friends or partners if they have boundaries

A lot of responses that Melissa received were telling her that she was a bad friend. I don’t know Melissa personally so cannot comment on what it’s like to be her friend. However, I have been following her online for years and she certainly appears to have a solid group of friends and acquaintances. She also has two romantic partners who come across as high calibre (tell me your dating secrets, Melissa!). I can also say that applying the practical advice from her educational content on forming healthy friendships has improved my own friendships for the better...so I’m inclined to say that she's not an awful friend.

Here’s the thing: if you want a relationship of any kind (platonic, romantic or familial) to survive long term then you have to respect the boundaries and limitations of that person. That person is not superhuman, and they have a breaking point. Sometimes you need to check in with them to know where their emotional capacity is currently at.

It’s happened a few times where I’ve been so close to my social capacity that I need alone time for the sake of my own emotional wellbeing (and the emotional wellbeing of the people around me). I’m a fairly mild-mannered person who doesn’t have a quick temper, but anyone who has decided to ignore my requests for privacy and alone time will know what it’s like to be on the wrong side of me. I’m not kidding: when someone pushes past my social boundaries - especially when I’ve explicitly stated them and we’re not in a social situation that I need to suck up e.g. an emergency or a family wedding - it will not be greeted well and, yes, I have been known to split open emotionally and let the irritation and anger spill out.

This breaking point could have been easily avoided if the person in question had just, you know, respected my (very basic) social boundaries. Healthy relationships with minimal arguments need an element of boundaries to stay healthy. 


You’re not entitled to anyone

The conversation around feeling entitled to a romantic and sexual partner has increased over the past year or so - and that’s great! Though we’re not seeing much chat surrounding feeling entitled to a platonic partner.

Bottom line: you’re not entitled to anyone's time. Being in a relationship with someone (platonic, romantic, sexual, business or whatever) doesn’t entitle you to potentially push them towards their breaking point (which could be the reality of springing heavy chat on someone without warning, or showing up uninvited). Unless you’re a newborn baby who literally needs the adults to do everything for you, then ask permission now and then.

We, as a society, have a problem with the word no. I love the word no now but it took me years to learn to use it and to respect it when it came out of other people’s mouths. I might be all BOUNDARIES now but I also had to work on respecting boundaries over the years and meeting people in the middle. People have the right to say no to things. Including those closest to you.

Though you do need to suck it up sometimes

I never use my introverted personality to get out of social situations that are important to my closest people. Of course, I will always attend family weddings and birthdays unless there’s a very good reason to miss it (and by important, I mean an emergency, pre-booked holiday or health-related issue). But I will say no to non-important things. For example, I skipped my work’s company-wide Christmas party because, truthfully, I just didn’t fancy it. This did get a few negative reactions but I’m entitled to spend my time the way I wish and it’s not an important event that is important to someone I love.

While people are entitled to spend their time how they like, people are also allowed to decide how available they need their friends to be in order for them to feel loved. There is no right or wrong here. Personally, despite my introverted energy, I still think friendships need to have regular mate dates to last. Friendships where someone is having health or monetary problems, someone has children or care responsibilities and/or there’s a geographical difference are the exception. However, in a friendship where none of these issues apply I would expect there to be regular mate-dates.

That’s not to say every friendship needs regular mate dates or that I have some stringent Google Calendar where everyone has a regular appointment slot. Some people are happy to have digital friendships with people they rarely see (again: I do have friendships like this but it’s where there is a boundary that prevents us hanging out in real life).

As I mentioned earlier, I get second-hand stress from couples who are glued together. That’s not to say however that those relationships are wrong. For some people, a very present partner might be important. For me, it’s important that a romantic partner has a life outside the relationship.

I don’t see romantic relationships are exceptionally more important than a platonic relationship. Imagine dating someone who only communicated with your digitally and never made the effort to take you on a date? Every guide on the internet would be telling you to leave. I’m not entirely sure why friendships are different (unless of course, there’s a boundary in the way). I have a friendship where we have so much in common that we regularly see each other more than once a week, and I’ve been asked a few times if she’s my girlfriend! I think that’s a little sad that people jump to the idea that we’re a romantic couple for no other reason than we spend a lot of time in each other’s company!

But anxiety

There has been one argument against the original tweet that I think does have some weight. And that’s the argument that people with anxiety (or even just anxious personalities) might panic when they receive a message that warns them of potentially triggering content and their minds might begin racing in a thousand different directions.

Here’s my advice: talk to your friends about the way in which they like to be communicated with. You might have some friends who would prefer you straight up dish out your problem immediately with no warning, while others might prefer a warning (I prefer a warning). No one is right or wrong here; different people just have different ways in which they like to be communicated with. I, for one, am not particularly comfortable with phone calls unless it is 1) scheduled and 2) with someone I am close to. I also don’t answer phone numbers that I don’t recognise.

(On a serious note - content warning for creepy and stalker behaviour - I don’t answer my door if I’m not expecting anyone because of some creepy behaviour in my past from people who know where I live)

I also have some friends that I’m more huggy with than others. Some friends attend concerts with me while others can’t think of anywhere else. It’s called boundaries and it’s worth having a chat with your closest people about where their boundaries on certain situations and communication channels lie. And, tbh, if you’re having to drag people to events that aren’t up their street...maybe you and your friends don’t really have all that much in common.

Some people are just not well-suited to each other

It took me until my mid-twenties to really understand this, but ...sometimes it’s not that people are shit friends, selfish, or cranky bastards with no love to give….it’s that maybe...you’re just not well-suited.

There’s nothing wrong with a low-key life, but I’ve learned over the years that I struggle with building long-term relationships with people like that because I keep a busy schedule and we just don’t understand each other. I also don’t gel very well with people who are extremely loud; but being loud isn’t a character flaw, it’s just not what I naturally feel at home with. The same way that some people won’t like my quiet energy and think that I “lock myself away”. I do have to meet people in the middle on “how often should we spend time together” question but then other times friendships fall through we’re just too incompatible. We all have different needs and sometimes two people aren’t built in a compatible way. That’s okay


Different people have different needs


Some of us need trigger warnings. Some of us don’t. Some of us like relationships where we are glued together. Some people like their space. No one is right or wrong.

That goes for the now infamous tweet. Was that person wrong to ask if someone had the emotionally capacity for a vent? No, they weren’t. But is it for everyone? Also, no.

Have a chat with your friends and find out where their boundaries are. Believe me, your friendships will be better when you learn to love people in the way that need to be loved. 
QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

The UK is now a Tory heartland - where do we go from here?





I don’t think I need to tell you why I spent an hour this morning crying like a fucking baby.

It wasn’t even just the fact that a party whose austerity measures have killed 120,000 people according to Medical Journals managed to win (in a First Past the Post system) by a landslide. It’s also that I don’t really…understand. I can’t articulate what happened. I’m an over-thinker and if I don’t have an answer to something, I’ll find one. My brain usually creates one, but my brain isn’t getting any further than “some people really do like the idea of Brexit, aye?” The polls said the Tories would probably win it, but that a hung parliament was likely. Boris is a racist, a homophobe, and a snob who wouldn’t even agree to TV interviews (I might not agree with the other Tory MPs but at least they’ve never hidden in a fridge).

If you’re here for a hot take on what went wrong, I don’t have one. My brain is fried from all of this (and I was up all night at the Glasgow count). My only conclusion is that we (including myself) underestimated just how many people wanted Brexit (given that the Conservatives made gains in places with a high Leave vote). What I am going to talk about is what we do moving forward.

But, hey, at least Jo Swinson lost her seat (but I was in the fucking toilet when it happened!).

If you have a political party that you truly believe in, join them

I’ve been a member of the Scottish Green Party for over 5 years. Not only that, but I was elected onto the Glasgow Greens Committee as an Ordinary Member a few months ago. If you join a political party, you don’t need to be as involved as I am. Plenty of members just donate their yearly fee to help with the finances. If you do want to get involved though, there are plenty of ways to do so as political parties and their local branches need a variety of skills sets. This includes marketers, data analysts, election organisers, candidates (!!), secretaries, event organisers, treasurers and confident extrovert types to knock on doors!

Or join a campaign or pressure group

They also need people with a variety of skill sets. 

Consider donating time and money

I still 100% believe that you should be talking to your friends and family about their vote. This includes posting on social media. Saying that, unless you are a public figure or influencer with a wide reach, you might only change the minds of a handful of people.

I know not everyone can, but if you’re in a financially comfortable situation please consider donating money to your candidate or party of choice in the next election - in order to help reach a wider audience. If you also have a particular skill set that could be of use during a political campaign, get in touch with your local organiser to find out how you can get involved.

Don’t think Scottish independence is in the bag

I’ve seen a lot of posts on social media today claiming that Scottish independence is now inevitable.
Hold on a second.

The SNP did make big gains last night in terms of the number of seats won – but their share of the vote was 45%. While this is an impressive number, it isn’t high enough to start running around screaming Freedom. 

I support Scottish Independence and in the event of a referendum being called, I will 100% be out campaigning. With a smart campaign, the Yes side may swing it (and remember, we only need to convince the electorate once, Better Together need to keep convincing voters over and over).

I know the thought of Scottish Independence is what’s keeping people going right now. Unfortunately, this could lead to complacency where we think we’re going to fix this mess by leaving. It’s not that simple. Public opinion still looks like it hovers around the 50% mark.

If you want independence, you'll need to restart the campaign. Don't wait for it a new Independence Referendum to be announced either. A lot of Scottish people still need convincing (more on that later!).

Start laying the groundwork for Holyrood 2021

The next election in Scotland will be Holyrood 2021 (but who knows if another General Election will be called, I’ve voted in more elections in the last few years than I’ve had foreign holidays). The political parties are gearing up for this already, with candidates selected and members collecting voting data at counts across the country. 

The Tory vote share in Scotland last night was 25%. Do not kid yourself if you think Scotland doesn’t like Tories, because they came second in both terms of seats and vote share. We have over a year until we decide who is elected at Holyrood (with a form of proportional representation), and if you want it to be a left-leaning government (yes please) then now is the time to start educating people around your on why the left is best (or donating time and/or money).

Use the time between elections to talk about the issues

One problem I did spot during the campaign period was just how much voters aren’t really clued up on the issues. It’s hard to convince people during a snap General Election on why broadband for all is a good idea, why the Greens are the only party who really have a plan for saving the planet, why Universal Credit must go, that there is a lot of economic research that supports socialism, other countries have already proved that equal societies are possible (English voters were saying that free university tuition is far-fetched despite Scotland having had it for years?), why Trident is a waste of money, why the Monarchy has no place in modern society, and that immigration is not the threat to the working class that they’ve been made to believe that it is.

That’s why, between now and Holyrood 2021, we should be raising awareness of issues and educating those around us. Closer to the time we can start campaigning along party lines, but if we want to reduce the number of Tories in Scotland we need to start shifting public opinion towards the left in general.

Understand the root cause

As I said, I don’t really understand what went wrong last night. In order to fix it though, we need to travel into murky waters to find out. What makes a working-class person vote Tory? Why do people want Brexit, when there is no economic justification for it? Why are people ignoring that we only have 10 years before climate change is irreversible?

One of the biggest shifts in my own personal political beliefs was Scottish Independence. I used to be a hard-lined Unionist (and a Liberal Democrat hahaha hahaha oh god) and changed my mind with only two months to go. Shockingly enough, it was not the Twitter Nats shouting off about Unionists being cowards that made me change my mind (imagine that). It was, and this is random, attending a Republic Scotland debate covering what Scottish Independence could mean for the monarchy. I was really taken by what the Green representative said and that night I walked home feeling the shift in me. I joined the Scottish Greens after the referendum and maybe would have never voted Yes had it not been for the alternative Green Yes campaign. 

Granted, I had been questioning my Unionist beliefs in the months leading up to this (with so much discussion going on around me it was hard not to) but this was the moment where I crossed over the line. Later on in the campaign, the straight-up media bias and lies would become apparent (remember when the BBC claimed that Alex Salmond didn’t answer a question but a foreign journalist uploaded a video of his answer in full?) and I was a Yes for good. Nothing was going to convince me otherwise after that.

One of the reasons the Yes campaign was so successful (it might not have won but it did rapidly increase the support for Yes) was that it covered everything. There was the white paper, the tv debates, books, the Green Yes campaign, Radical Independence, English for Yes, and the other offshoots that represented different demographics. Almost no stone was left unturned. It wasn’t enough to convince everyone, but it turned this once staunch Unionist into a Yes voter. 

As someone who knows what's like to switch sides on a massive issue, I can tell you a few things. Don't be a dick to people. Share your opinions in a well-researched manner. Understand why people vote the way they do and then build a campaign around it.

Look after our most vulnerable

I want to pay more tax. I’ll happily take home slightly less money if it means a fully-functioning NHS, that the Masters I’m thinking of doing can be paid for by the state, cheaper (or free!) public transport, a good care home for my parents (I don’t live near them and can’t look after them myself), and a safety net waiting for me if I was to fall ill and couldn’t work (I have savings that I'd ideally use for buying a flat but I'm still hesitant to part with it in case something happens).

I’m making a commitment to donating to charities and food banks. The extra money that I would pay in tax is still going to be directed towards society’s most vulnerable people. My political opinions are firm on the redistribution of wealth (not that I’m wealthy by any stretch of the imagination, I’m just comfortable) and I’m planning to put my money where my mouth is.
__

I’m not going to pretend that the result of the General Election last night wasn’t fucking disgraceful. It’s disgusting that a large percentage of the UK population (and that includes Scotland!) wants to see disabled people on the streets or children only eating one cooked meal a day.

It doesn’t have to be this way, but if no one takes action (in a strategic way) then this is very much the future we are looking at. Start having a think about where you can help the cause in your own beautiful way: whether that's through using your expertise in your profession to pen thought-pieces, talking openly about how Tory rule has impacted you, donating money to a campaign you really care about, sharing your skillset with a campaign group or political party, volunteering at a local charity or your community council. 

It's bleak right now, very fucking bleak. But it's been bleaker before and society has - in many ways - made leaps and bounds even in my own lifetime. It's not over yet.  

QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

Why Scottish Green Party supporters don't owe the SNP their vote




My Twitter feed has been filled with politics recently, and with good reason. The UK is having a General Election on the 12th of December.

This General Election is more crucial than usual due to the looming monsters that are Brexit and the Climate Emergency (you know that in 10 years time climate change will be irreversible, right?). Not to mention that the Tories have thrown some of the UK’s most vulnerable citizens into the gutter.

Oh, and we have a bumbling buffoon as a Prime Minister.

Emotions are high (mine certainly are) and political Twitter has been, shall we say, contentious. It’s darker here than it usually is.

For me personally, the deepest darkness has been from SNP supporters coming out in force to attack the Scottish Green Party for daring to partake in democracy by standing in an election.

Who on earth do we think we are? A political party standing in an election? How preposterous!.

Their argument essentially is “you’re splitting the vote” (with no actual examples or statistics to back it up). I’ve become used to the bile that Twitter nats sprout about the Scottish Green Party over the years, but this time it has been more forceful than usual and has left me shaking in rage.

The thing is: this is a democracy, and if the Scottish Green Party wants to stand then they should. Nobody owes anyone their votes. This includes all parties since I have also spotted Labour voters annoyed at the Liberal Democrats and the SNP, the Tories annoyed at the Brexit Party, and the Scottish Socialist Party voting not to stand candidates to avoid splitting the socialist vote.

But “splitting the vote” is a tired excuse and an affront to democracy, and here are 13 (!!!) reasons why (using the SNP vs Greens as my primary example since that is the debate I’m closer to).


We’re a different party with different policies

This feels like the most obvious point, so I’m going to get it out of the way first.

The Scottish Green Party might agree with the SNP on Scottish independence and Brexit. However, the two parties disagree on a lot of other issues.

First up is climate change. The SNP’s approach to climate change is to do just enough to for some good press and to appeal to voters who think banning plastic straws is the answer (it’s not) - while still keeping their mates in the oil industry happy. Case in point: their recent climate conference was sponsored by BP and Heathrow Airport, those famous beacons of environmental concern.

Very recently, the Scottish Parliament passed a Climate Bill, which was drafted by the SNP and backed by all other parties aside from the Scottish Green Party.  The reason the Scottish Green Party didn’t back it wasn’t because we don’t want to reduce emissions, but because the bill was very weak on how to go about it. Targets can be moved around and while the targets do make good headlines, they don’t mean anything if the SNP keep allowing oil companies to drill in the North Sea.

Nicola, if you’re reading: we’ve only got 10 years to save the world, so get a move on.

The Scottish Greens, on the other hand, have launched the Green New Deal. It focuses not only on reducing emissions but refocusing Scotland’s economy in a way that can save the planet (I repeat: we only have 10 years to fix this) while still protecting workers who make a living in engineering, oil and gas etc. It is based on a report by the New Economics Foundation that is available here.

Another recent example of the Scottish Green Party going up against the SNP is the Gender Recognition Act. The planned update to the Gender Recognition Act 2004 would allow trans people the right to legally self-identify, as opposed to medical professionals deciding for them (a process that many trans people have described as traumatic and stressful).

The SNP shelved it after giving in to pressure from TERFs but that’s not all, they have “gender critical feminists” in their highest ranks, such as MP Joanna Cherry (for Edinburgh South West) and MSP Joan McAlpine (South Scotland region). So much transphobia, that a trans SNP councillor in Dundee quit the party, citing the party’s “institutional transphobia” as his reason (and let’s not forget the problematic Women’s Pledge).

This is in direct contrast to the Scottish Green Party. The Scottish Green Party is committed to the reform of the Gender Recognition Act, and our policies are voted on at our conferences. When Patrick Harvie spoke in support of trans rights in his speech at the Autumn Conference in 2018, the crowd cheered, when we passed a motion supporting trans rights at the same conference, it passed without a blip.

I’m not going to sugar coat this: the SNP’s failure to reform the Gender Recognition has been utterly disgusting. I am a bisexual woman, and I forever and always stand with everyone who falls under the LGBTQI+ banner. That includes trans people, and their right to decide their legal gender for themselves.

The SNP’s treatment of trans people is the number one reason why I can’t just hold my nose and vote for them (especially since I don’t even live in a risky seat, but we’ll get to that). The climate emergency and Scottish independence are both complex matters - politically, scientifically, and economically. There’s a lot to flesh out and it’s going to be a long journey. But respecting a trans person’s right to live their life as their chosen gender? Why is this even up for debate? This isn’t complex economics, this is basic human dignity.

Not that long ago the SNP were standing for Westminster knowing they couldn’t win

The earliest election I ever remember was the 1997 General Election when Tony Blair achieved his landslide. I’m still under 30 so in the grand scheme of things this election wasn’t that long ago.

In that election, the SNP stood 72 candidates but only won 6 seats. In the 1992 General Election, they also stood 71 seats and won 3. Within my own lifetime (and I repeat: I am under 30) I have seen the SNP grow from a fringe party with a handful of seats to a political powerhouse. And you know how they did it? Their own determination for one but also because people were willing to believe in them and voted for them even when they were told that it was a wasted vote. Where would the SNP be if they’d listened to all those Labour campaigners telling them not to split the anti-Tory vote from 1935 until 2015?

The Scottish Green Party are just doing exactly the same thing a generation later and would appreciate the same level of respect.


Scottish Independence isn’t the only issue on the table (and we’re not going to win an independence referendum anytime soon, anyway)

I get it: the SNP’s central policy is Scottish independence and if you’re a candidate, member, or supporter of the SNP then Scottish independence is probably high on your political priorities.

And you have every right to make that choice.

But so does everyone else, and Scottish independence isn’t that important to some voters. Yes, I support it but I have other issues that are more pressing right now (like, uh, stopping the world from imploding). I don’t support Scottish independence in principle. I support it because the UK is a hot mess of a country and I believe that Scotland is being held back by Westminster.

But if the UK stopped being so wild, I’d maybe change my mind. Who knows.

However, the main reason why I’m not putting Scottish independence higher on my priorities is this: we probably wouldn't win a referendum at this point. Polling (depending on who’s doing it) still hovers around the 50% mark. Even if we did get a mandate for a referendum, there’s a real chance that it would still be a no.

We’re going to have to be patient. Support for Scottish independence is higher amongst the younger generation, and it feels naturally inevitable. Yes, support seems to have increased since Brexit but it still isn’t high enough. And if being pulled out of the EU against our will, a blonde rubber duck as a Prime Minister, the Eton elite as his backing dancers, the dismantling of the NHS, and the rise of the far-right still haven’t convinced voters that Scotland is better off as an independent nation - then I’m not entirely sure what will.

You know what is inevitable? The planet overheating. An overwhelming majority of scientists have said that we have 10 years to fix this mess or the damage becomes permanent (and we die). We literally do not have time to be sucking up to the SNP’s mates in BP. There is a deadline here. Scottish independence doesn’t have a deadline. We’ll get it when we get it (which we probably will, eventually, after the planet is officially dying).

And even if we did magically win a referendum, we wouldn’t become independent overnight. The 2014 Independence Referendum had an 18-month campaign period and in the SNP whitepaper, it was suggested that the process of leaving the UK would take 18 months. That then leaves us with 7 years post-independence to save the planet (bearing in mind that even more damage might have occured in that time). Saving the planet will require a complete overhaul of our infrastructure and energy sources. Not a ban on plastic straws or whatever else the faux-eco warriors are suggesting these days. A change in infrastructure is not a simple process and certainly can’t be done overnight. If we want to save the planet, we have to act now (not when we get independence because by that point Scotland might have already sunk into the North Sea).

Before I say my next point I want to make it clear that I say this as a person and not a Scottish Green Party member: I believe that referendums that propose a big constitutional change (such as Scottish Independence and Brexit) shouldn’t rely on a simple majority. If I was in parliament drawing up an independence referendum bill I’d be looking for a supermajority, somewhere between 60-70% of the electorate. Just look at Brexit as an example of what happens when a referendum that demands constitutional reform wins by a small margin.

I’m also going to share a little tidbit about the Scottish Green Party that you might not know about. The Scottish Green Party is officially a Yes Party, by virtue of having voted overwhelmingly in favour of independence multiple times at our conferences. But we are okay with our members voting no. No one will get chucked out if they choose to campaign for Better Together. There are probably a small number of no-voting Greens (albeit I don’t have data) who are very unlikely to vote SNP purely on constitutional grounds, never mind our other points of divergence.

Finally, some people vote SNP because they like the candidate or the party’s social democratic policies. Not necessarily because they want independence. How people decide to vote isn’t as simple as “independence = good, UK = bad”.


The Scottish independence movement needs alternative voices 

I might be pro-Scottish Independence now, but I used to be a hardline Unionist (sad trombone I know). What made me change my mind?

The Green Yes campaign.

I had always found (and still do) the mainstream Yes Campaign to be a bit lacklustre, and only strives for an independent Scotland that would be mildly better than the UK. The Green Yes movement, however, offered a vision of a country that I want to live in - but makes the clear point that Scotland can’t become a progressive beacon for the world while still ruled by Westminster.

If you want the support for independence to grow, you need to stop shouting over the top of other pro-yes voices. The SNP aren’t the only voice in the Scottish Independence movement (and thank god, because some of us would have never been convinced otherwise.)

You lost seats in the last General Election...and the Greens only stood three candidates

I have two tables below showcasing the overall vote share in Scotland in 2015 and 2017 General Elections. Have a look at them.



Do you see it?

Do you see that the SNP lost votes in the 2017 General Election?

Do you see that the Scottish Green Party stood in fewer seats in 2017?

According to SNP Twitter logic, the SNP should have performed better in the 2017 General Election, since the Scottish Green Party were standing in fewer seats and weren’t “splitting the vote”. But that didn’t happen.

What the SNP should be doing right now (instead of harassing Green candidates and voters on Twitter) is working out what went wrong in 2017, so that they can perform better in 2019. Why did you receive fewer votes despite fewer parties standing?

Scotland doesn’t have a big impact on the outcome of elections

It’s well documented that Scotland doesn’t have much of an impact on which party forms the UK government. There are 650 constituencies in the UK, but only 59 are in Scotland. So in percentage terms, that means that only 9% of MPs are elected by Scotland. Even if Scotland sent down 59 SNP MPs something really bizarre would have to happen in the rest of the UK for the SNP to become a Westminster powerhouse.


If you want to block Brexit, Labour is your best bet

Labour can be just as bad as the SNP-ers in regards to complaining about “splitting the vote”. In reality, both parties should respect democracy and campaign on the positives of voting for their party.

However, I can understand Labour’s logic. You can’t vote for the SNP in other parts of the UK, so if you want a pro-Remain majority in the House of Commons, well, it might be best that Scotland holds its nose and sends down 59 Labour MPs.

If the SNP won’t consider standing aside for Labour, then the Scottish Green Party shouldn’t stand aside for the SNP.

(P.S. I wrote this post before there was talk of SNP backing Labour).

Glasgow Central won’t elect a Tory

On a personal level, I live in a constituency where a Scottish Green Party candidate is standing. So I’ll be voting for them and before you claim that I’m splitting the vote, let’s look at some stats from my own constituency.

In the 2017 General Election, the SNP candidate won with 44.7% of the votes. In the 2015 General Election, the same SNP candidate won with 52.5% of the vote. Labour came second in both elections, and then the Conservative party were third (but a very far behind third).

By voting for the Scottish Green Party in Glasgow Central, it’s very unlikely that I’ll be letting a Tory through. In fact, I would pay good money to see a posh Tory knocking on doors in the area I live in.


If Greens can’t vote Green they won’t necessarily vote SNP

First Past the Post is an unfair system that lends its hand to tactical voting. As much as I don’t like tactical voting, I sometimes do it and if I was living somewhere where a Tory might slip through, I’d consider voting for the lesser of the evils (even if it meant not voting Green).

However, my vote might not necessarily go to the SNP.

This is what some SNP-ers don’t seem to grasp: if the Scottish Green Party didn’t stand that doesn’t mean that they’ll vote for the SNP.

Let’s nip back to my own constituency of Glasgow Central. The Scottish Green Party stood someone in the 2015 General Election, but not in 2017. If you were to apply SNP theory, this means that the SNP vote share should have increased because Green voters naturally flock to the SNP when they don’t have a Green candidate on the ballot paper.

Reader, the SNP vote in Glasgow Central dropped by -7.8% between 2015 and 2017. On top of that, the vote share of Labour, Conservatives, and Liberal Democrats all increased. This is despite there being five fewer parties on the ballot paper. Granted the turnout was higher in 2015 (maybe because there was a wider option of candidates and we’d just held the Scottish Independence Referendum?). But their drop in vote share has nothing to do with the Scottish Green Party (because we didn’t even stand).

I’m also going to point out that the Scottish Green Party isn’t standing a candidate in Glasgow North East, a constituency served by Labour MP Paul Sweeney. I feel roughly the same way about Labour as I do the SNP (in that I can tolerate them), but I do have soft spots for certain figures within the party. Paul Sweeney is one of those people. He is a capable politician who shares a lot of my values. I know Greens who live in his constituency who are happy with his performance and intend on voting for him. If I was living in his constituency I’d also be “lending” him my vote.

The Green voice is always important, and it shows people care about climate change

Honestly, I’d be shocked if Glasgow Central sends a Scottish Green MP to Westminster. I’m not going in there actually thinking we’ll actually win.

What having a Scottish Green candidate on the ballot paper (and at debates and at local hustings) does is helps keep green issues on the table for discussion. If people vote for the Scottish Green Party knowing that they can’t realistically win? Well, that just proves that there is an appetite for green policies that can’t be ignored. It might encourage other parties to increase their own commitment to climate change (which no other party is doing).


Keep abusing us on Twitter, and we might not ever vote SNP again 

One of the most common threats I keep seeing on Twitter is that SNP voters will no longer vote for the Scottish Green Party on the Regional List (a few of them have even said they’ll vote for the transphobic Wings Over Scotland instead, Lord give me strength).

That is a risk the Scottish Green Party need to be willing to take.

However, this works both ways. The SNP is sometimes lent votes from the Scottish Green Party supporters. In the 2017 General Election, I voted SNP and I vote for Nicola Sturgeon on my constituency ballot in the Scottish Elections (I have my issues with the SNP as a party, but I believe Nicola to be a solid leader).

The Council Elections have a much fairer voting system where we rank candidates in preference. I always vote Scottish Green Party first (and Allan Young in my Govan ward is a very solid councillor) but after that, all bets are off. Councils have diddly squat influence on Scottish independence and Brexit, so those issues don’t influence my decision in an election about play parks and bins.

Maybe some SNP voters will never “forgive the Scottish Green Party” for potentially splitting a vote. But you know what? The Scottish Green Party candidates and their supporters won’t forget the vile we’ve been receiving on Twitter in a hurry either.

If you want to win, get out there and win fair and square

Sometimes when you’re campaigning for a party, you do need to point out the failures and problematic policies of other parties. In a constructive way. Heck, I do it myself. But, as I said, in a constructive way.

SNP voters: if you want people to vote for you and not the Scottish Green Party explain to us why in a constructive manner. Don’t angry tweet us complaining that it’s personally our fault if Scotland isn’t independent within your preferred timeline.

Scotland voted Remain

It’s well documented that Scotland is being dragged into Brexit by other parts of the UK. As a nation, Scotland largely voted to remain.

So when Scottish voters come at me with “this election is about Brexit and I don’t want to let through a Leave party” I like to remind them that this mess was caused by the other parts of the UK, and Scotland can’t do much about it.

We are relying on England to vote for the Remain parties in order to stop this national embarrassment. Maybe take to Twitter to try and persuade English voters to vote Labour? I’m followed by a lot of English people on Twitter and I regularly post political content that is more relevant to them than my Scottish followers.

The alliance with the Green Party of England and Wales is about cooperation, not shutting someone out

The Liberal Democrats, Plaid Cymru, and the Green Party of England and Wales have created a Remain Pact to keep out MPs who support Brexit and that is great. I am not against it.

(Though I could go on a rant about the Liberal Democrats being untrustworthy).

What makes this different from the Greens “splitting the vote” is that the SNP is not interested in working alongside the Scottish Green Party to keep out Tory voters - they are straight up just telling us not to stand. That is not the same thing as the Remain Pact.

It’s just not democratic

Bottom line: asking a party to stand down because you want their supporters to vote for your party (even though there is no evidence that they would) is a slap in the face to democracy.

If you want your party to win the election, then get out there and earn those votes and if the Scottish Green Party (or whoever else) is “splitting the vote” that you feel undemocratically entitled to, then your party needs to attempt to understand why people would rather vote for them than you (especially if it’s for a party that won’t realistically win).

That’s how democracy works. You’re not entitled to anything.

That includes my vote.

QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

REVIEW: The Big Vegan Cheese Making Kit




"But I can't give up cheese"

This is one of the most common excuses you hear from vegetarians or meat-eaters who would like to be vegan but just...say they can't. I do sympathise, to an extent, as I was once a major cheese lover. In fact, I didn't make the full switch to veganism until Violife came onto the health food shelves. But since then many other brands have also launched new cheeses, some very similar to the dairy versions.

But if the (many) shop versions aren't doing it for you, there is another option: making your own.

A while ago the makers of the Big Vegan Cheese Making Kit* got in contact asking if I'd like to try their product. Obviously, I said yes. Between being a vegan who does miss cheese and someone who loves to experiment in the kitchen, this sounded up my street.

The kit comes with six cheese recipes - and another six recipes showing you how to use the cheese in regular dishes! The six kinds of cheese this kit can make are mozzarella, ricotta, mascarpone, halloumi, feta and parmesan. The kit also includes a muslin cloth, a thermometer, and some of the ingredients you'll need: Anhydrous Citric Acid, Organic Sea Salt, Agar Powder, Tapioca, Nutritional Yeast, Dried Basil, Dried Paprika, Lemon pepper. All the cheeses are nut-based, and you will have to buy the cashews and macadamia nuts yourself (along with plant milk).



The cheeses themselves are simple enough to make, but you do need to be above intermediate in the kitchen and own a powerful blender. You also need to set time aside because you will need to soak the nuts overnight to soften them (or quickly boil them in hot water, that does the trick).



Out of all the cheeses, my favourite was the feta. In fact, when I crumbled the feta into my Greek Salad (a recipe that came with the pack) it tasted the same (and I used to love a Greek Salad!). It's probably because feta has a dry, savoury taste anyway so this nut-based recipe worked well as a substitute.

The parmesan was a close second, as it was very believable.



I also liked the mascarpone and ricotta recipes but (there's a but here) I can't remember eating the dairy versions. So I'm the wrong person to ask.



I also enjoyed the Halloumi. But (big but here) it didn't resemble dairy-based halloumi, as it lacked the squeakiness. Saying that it was still delicious - but in its own way.



The only cheese I didn't enjoy was the mozzarella. Not only did it not really resemble mozzarella but it also didn't really work as its own unique thing.

Now, I love cooking and experimenting with tricky recipes but the negative of this kit is that it was just a bit of a fuss. I have made each recipe only once and it is a bit of a novelty. And there are more and more pre-made cheeses coming out that are very believable and tasty. In fact, the only time I'd whip out this kit in future is if I was wanting to show off at a dinner party or was making something for someone with allergies where I wanted to be really sure there were no harmful ingredients.

Do I recommend this kit? It depends. You need to really love cooking. And have a bit of time on your hands. Maybe if you're retired, or you have a partner who you split up the household chores with (someone marry me and take on all the cleaning, and I'll cook every meal for you for the rest of your life). As mentioned, it might also be a good shout for people with allergies who really want to be sure their cheeses have no trace of dairy. As a vegan, I think there are some really good cheeses on the market now so I'd only go for this kit if you really don't like anything store-bought and like to know what's in your food.
QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

I watched all the Friday the 13th films and here are my thoughts



I love horror films - specifically, slasher films. As much as I have a place in my heart for creepy girls climbing out of a television or, uh, experimenting with a crucifix, it's the slashers that have my lifelong love.

Primarily, it's the slashers that were created between the mid-90s into the early 2000s that I love the most. With Scream being not only my favourite horror franchise - but just one of my favourite franchises, period. But I know that those films wouldn't exist without the golden oldies.

But I've not watched that many of the old slasher films, because I'm a bad horror fan. I've seen about half of the Halloween series (but let's be real: that franchise got wildly out of control), a few of the Nightmare on Elm Street films and only half of Psycho because I didn't actually like it. Until very recently, I had only seen two Friday the 13th films (the first one and Freddy VS Jason). That changed when I randomly stumbled upon the entire Friday the 13th series on NOW TV. So if you've not seen me recently and thought I had died, that is actually what I was up.

My perception of Friday the 13th before this was...meh. I had seen the original and Freddy VS Jason and had never quite taken to Jason. Personally, I prefer my villains to have more complexity, with a backstory, and the ability to talk. So I never gravitated towards the man-child that is Jason.

But, I am a big horror fan. And as a big horror fan I have still always appreciated that Friday the 13th was one of the earliest slasher films created and that, without it, many of my favourite films would not exist. Many of the horror tropes used today were developed from Halloween and Friday the 13th.

Here's the thing though: despite its commercial success, critics hated it. And fair enough. From a critical and artistic standpoint, it's a pile of shite. Even Betsy Palmer, who played Pamela Vorhees, didn't expect it to be a hit and only took the job because she needed money for a new car! It's not a good film, in the technical sense. But what people who graduate from film school don't always understand: what is good from an academic or professional standpoint isn't always what audiences want.

And that's where marketing comes in. Or, more accurately, understanding supply and demand. The creators of Friday the 13th admit that they wanted to create something similar to Halloween (largely regarded as the film that created the slasher genre). Audiences wanted more and the creators saw the gap in the market; there was the demand but not supply. A large part of Friday the 13th success was the right time and the right place.

When talking about slasher films, especially the older ones, the book Men, Women and Chainsaws will come up. I actually own this book and read it several a years ago. And in it is the answer to why audiences loved the low-budget slashers of the 80s: they were simple, accessible, and lacked pretentious art school vibes. So pretty much: the very reason film experts hated them was the same reason mainstream audiences loved them. The book also calls Silence of the Lambs a "slasher film for graduate students" and I've always lol'd at that. I love the Silence of the Lambs film (it's actually a favourite) but let's not pretend that Hannibal Lector isn't a pretentious snob.

Regardless, Jason became a horror icon. Which is strange to anyone who has seen the Friday the 13th series and/or the opening sequence of Scream:




Maybe I love Scream so much because I don't mind spoilers.

Jason didn't actually show up until the sequel, which I knew because of my aforementioned love of Scream. But what did surprise me while watching the series is that (spoiler alert) he doesn't get his iconic hockey mask until the third film. And even then it's not until a good chunk of the way through the film. All that iconic imagery that I had been familiar with since my teenage years showed up later in the franchise.




But I love this scene. Not just because he obtains his mask, but also because of the nonchalant way he waddles back to the house.

And then he uses the hockey mask to cover his disfigured face for the rest of the franchise.

Speaking of the entire franchise...do you want to know which of the films I actually liked?

The one that stood out for me, and a lot of horror fans, is the 6th film: Jason Lives. Yes, it's very random that six films in they created something that received some positive reviews from critics. It's slightly humorous in a passive way, the kills are gory, and there is more characterisation. While it was released in 1986, it's humour and meta dialogue make it look like a film that could have been made in the late 90s in a post-Scream world. And I love Scream. Scream in the best.

It's also the film where Jason is resurrected and would remain immortal and powerful for the rest of the franchise.

 

Who doesn't love watching a bunch of annoying company execs being killed in the woods?

The other film I really liked, and I might get some flack about, is Jason X. Some fans really hate this film. Like, really hate it. But I like it. It's Jason in space which is a ridiculous idea, but the film knows that it's ridiculous so, in my opinion, they get away with it. And Jason gets a make-over and becomes futuristic Uber Jason. Okay, I know that's probably why people don't like it. As mentioned, slasher flicks started out as simple films without anything too out there. So sending Jason ino space and having him become half-robot was going to anger the purists. But,I.do.not.care. I like this film. It's silly.

Sadly, Uber Jason was only seen in this film and Freddy VS Jason decided to old old-school Jason.



And while Jason Takes Manhattan is probably the worst film in the franchise because HE SPENDS MOST OF IT KILLING PEOPLE ON A BOAT that one scene where we see Jason standing in Times Square was incredible. And I just love that people don't bat an eyelid because...New York. That city sees dressed up weirdos all the time.


One of the main criticisms you hear about the Friday the 13th films is WHY SO MANY BOOBS! The whole franchise has a lot of naked chicks, and this has been up for academic and feminist critique. There's a horror trope about "sluts dying first" that really needs to get in the bin (and has done so, to an extent). But the Friday the 13th series is probably one of the boobiest horror franchises out there.

My opinion: the critique on the naked chics being mostly young, white, conventionally attractive, thin women is valid. When you're going to have sexualised characters, have a bit of variety. But also: stop being prudes. It's not just about the "male gaze". I'm a queer woman and I'm not going to pretend I didn't enjoy the boobs. Boobs are nice. And I like hot naked chics as much as any straight dude.

Though race: the third film has black characters...but they are gangstas. Okay then. I was hoping for a tiny bit of diversity. Thanks to Scream 2 we know that horror is a white-centric genre:



You tell them, Jada Pinkett Smith!

My main bug bearer about Friday the 13th is small, and pedantic. I was wondering how big Crystal Lake actually is? And how many houses can you fit around one fucking lake? And how did Jason hideout in the woods that long with no one finding him? And in the ninth film, there's a Vorhees Estate that fell into the hands of a random half-sister? Half-sister I can believe but this massive mansion? Why did Jason live in the woods when there was a mansion that was rightfully his? Blah blah blah artistic license blah blah blah.

Would I say that the Friday the 13th franchise is going to become a personal favourite? No. But I did enjoy my binge, even if it was only from an I'm a Horror Fan and Really Enjoy Watching All the Horror Movies Because I Just Love Horror That Much sort of way. For me, my binge was a massive geek sesh.

P.S. you can buy a Camp Crystal Lake candle.


QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

5 things that helped me accept that I am bisexual and come out the closet



A flashback to a selfie taken around about the time I came out. My face says everything about how I was feeling at that point in my life. 

Last week I wrote a long, rambly 4000+ word post about my decision to come out as bisexual two years ago, and what life has been like since.

In that post, I shared that my decision to come out was directly related to my decision to end some questionable platonic relationships. While this was the critical moment that pushed me over the edge, it wasn't the only thing that had happened in recent years that would get me closer to accepting what I had known since high school. Here are five other things that helped me accept who I really was, and result in me coming out of the closet!

1. Open-bisexual public figures

While I was growing up, there weren't any bisexual public figures to look up to. At least not any who were explicitly bisexual. I've known for decades that Angelina Jolie and Drew Barrymore are bisexual - but their sexuality is not well publicised.

Fast forward to the last few years and there are two prominent bisexuals in the media who everyone knows are bisexual: Kristen Stewart and Cara Delvigne. I mean, sorry if this is how you found out but anyone who follows celebrity gossip even slightly knows that these two ladies love people of any gender.

Bi-erasure is still a problem. Cynthia Nixon is one of the most prominent examples. She's been married to a woman for 11 years and has to correct people who assume she is gay. I mean, she was with a man for 15 years (which was during her Sex & The City fame) that you think would be a giveaway - but nah! I've even had to personally correct someone on Cynthia Nixon's sexuality. 

People, not even public figures, should never feel pressurised to be loud about their sexuality if they don't want to be. And they shouldn't really have to, in an ideal world anyway. But having celebrities who are loudly bisexual was a turning point for me.

2. LGBT+ people coming out in later age

I came out a month before my 27th birthday. And part of my fear was people asking me why it took me so long - or, god forbid, using it as a reason to not believe me. Any, yes, I was asked by people why it took me so long. Not all of us get it done the first day of university, okay?

In 2015, YouTube sensation Ingrid Nilsen came out as gay at the age of 26. Granted this was two years before I would eventually come out myself but it did serve as a small nudge that it's okay to come out in your late 20s.

A slightly more low-key coming out story was from local Glasgow blogger Sophie. Sophie is a friend these days, but at the time they were no more than someone I followed on Twitter. But seeing someone who was my age publicly document their coming out story was the second most important thing that helped me accept myself, only losing out to ending shitty friendships.

I came out of the closet a year after Sophie did, and their story was an important part of mine. Sophie sharing their story helped me rattle on the closet doors while ending ugly friendships was the thing that made the doors throw open. If I was to write a book about my life as a bisexual - from the moment I knew to the present-day - Sophie's influence would have a dedicated chapter.

And that's why I'm a fan of people sharing my own story. Sophie isn't a public figure. They were a random person on Twitter, albeit one that I would consider a friend now. In the past week since publishing my anniversary blog, I've had two bisexuals (one closeted) come into my DMs thanking me for putting into words what they've struggled to say. You never know who your story could help.

3. Online dating

I would like to give a friendly shout out to my good friend Tinder (and OkCupid) for making it easier to chat to girls when I still wasn't ready to come out publicly. How did queer people meet people back in the day? Especially those of us who don't look queer? And weren't confident enough to be out? Heck, I'm still rubbish at chatting up potentially queer girls in the real world.

4. Better bisexual characters

Again, growing up there weren't many bisexual characters in tv and films. Sure, there were characters who experimented or randomly came out as gay after having a healthy hetero-relationship (looking at you Willow Rosenburg). But those characters typically enforced negative bisexual stereotypes.

But a few years ago I got sucked into the Arrowverse and the bisexual character of Sara Lance. For the first time, I witnessed a bisexual character portrayed really well. She doesn't have a long-term partner on the show, so we see her date people of multiple genders - and she never "picks a side". And her sexuality is very rarely mentioned specifically - aside from an evil character here and there - it's just there. 

Since coming out I've dipped my toes into Riverdale, which boasts the bisexual characters Cheryl and Toni.

And while I haven't watched it, I've heard that Emmerdale of all things has a bisexual character now.

That's why I firmly believe in representation. Because when people can see themselves in things, it lifts them up.

5. My self-confidence

In last week's post, I shared that I struggled with self-confidence and anxiety while I was in the closet. But truthfully, my anxiety and my sexuality is a bit of a chicken-and-egg theory - which one came first? Because in the years prior to coming out my confidence had grown bit by bit. Yes, it grew exponentially the day I came out. But some of the work I did on growing my confidence since high school did lay the groundwork for me having the confidence to eventually come out.

And one thing that definitely did not help me get there sooner: 

People speculating about my sexuality

Despite being femme presenting and not obviously queer, I am more than aware that my sexuality was speculated about more than once. And I know the people who did so had their heart in the correct place, but it actually made me find a dark place at the back of the closet where no one would ever find me. The idea that people knew terrified me. Even on the odd occasion where I was specifically asked I laughed and denied it.

I won't name the family member specifically, in case I have the story wrong. But there is an older family member who has acted as if they have known since my mid-teens, but never directly asked. They did, however, start showing more of an interest in LGBTQ+ issues and stopped teasing me about boys. And that was the way to do it. Allowing me to know that they knew, they loved me regardless and would be there for me when I was ready.

Coming out is a personal choice that should be made by the person. And one of the best ways to be an ally is to give them the space to figure it out in their own time.

QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

Two years.


October is a bit of a funny month for me. It's home to a few major anniversaries and memories - some of which I'd like to forget. My childhood dog was put down in October, I've been dumped (twice!) in October, I was burgled, I've been made redundant, and (a good one this time) it's the month I moved to Glasgow. While I wouldn't consider myself to be a particularly paranoid person, I do feel like waving sage around my house when October comes around each year.

But there's another anniversary that makes me incredibly emotional - and in a good way.

And that's my outiversary.

While I might be unapologetically bisexual now: it was only two years ago, a month before my 27th birthday, that I stood in my kitchen one Friday night and decided I was done.

Last year, on #BiVisibilityDay, I wrote a blog post explaining why it took me so long to come out and I'm not planning to re-hash the entire story. What I'm going to focus on in this post is the coming out itself and how my life has changed since that night.

My coming out wasn't entirely out the blue and was a progression (or a reaction!) to another major decision. Somewhere in late summer 2017, a memory came up on my Facebook from many years ago. In the photo, were me and a frenemy who had been in my life since 2009. The person in question is a highly problematic individual and when I looked at the photo, I felt something switch in me. My awkward and shy face. Their creepy fucking smile. The timestamp that reminded me that I had put up with their shit for far too long.

While I had tried to distance myself a few times in the past, I had always ultimately chickened out. But something about the painfully awkward facial expression of my 19-year-old self made me snap. This time I was walking away from that person for good and anyone who enabled them.

Fast forward a few months later and I'm in my kitchen just minutes away from the moment where I'd snap about my sexuality.

You see, the weekend I came out was the same weekend as their birthday party. I wasn't going. I had been chased to go by mutual friends and I hadn't caved. I was really walking away. 

And within the adrenaline of all this, I found the strength to do something else: that night, I became an openly bisexual woman. The moment was so poignant to me that I remember that I was looking in my fridge when I made the decision. There's a running joke with my friends that I came out of the fridge rather than the closet.

My coming out was subtle and many people probably missed it. That night all I did was change my sexual orientation on my dating apps. And I only began to actually tell people when I began meeting girls off of Tinder. It would still take me another year to become the proudly in-your-face-bisexual that I am today.

The next four months of my life were some of the most emotional of my life. This is the time period where I began to come out socially. I mean, I count my outiversary as that moment in my kitchen but there was still some work to be done. I began dropping it into blog posts (the first time is here) and then told people as I began to go on dates. If you're one of the friends who I came out to directly (rather than just finding out from a blog post) I can remember exactly how it was done. Maybe you don't. But I remember where I was when I did it, and how the conversation got to that point. Those moments have never left me.

I also began seeing girls I knew on dating apps, so I guess the news was going to get out.

And while I'm at home with my story now there are still those moments where I look back - with an actual tear in my eye - and think: holy fuck I actually did it. 

For those of you who have never had to come out, the emotion I feel around this anniversary might be hard to understand.

But the impact coming out has had on my emotional and mental health has been profound. While, yeah, coming out might seem no more than a moment where I can go "woohoo, I get to date girls now" it was a lot more than that. In the year that followed that night, I felt like I was being reborn.

If you've known me for more than two years, you might recall how awkward a human I used to be. I never went to the GP so I'm hesitant to use the term and self-diagnose, but my younger self very likely suffered from social anxiety. The link between LGBTQ+ individuals and mental health problems are well documented. And for me, that manifested in struggling to connect with people, overthinking absolutely everything, being scared people were judging me for the tiniest of things, and struggling to make chit chat. I also suffered from arachnophobia (which, no, not officially diagnosed either but on more than one occasion I was left sobbing uncontrollably because a spider was in the house). I'm not a psychiatrist and have no idea if this medically adds up: but sometimes I think spiders were the physical manifestation of my anxiety. Either way, I don't have the phobia now (just a strong dislike).

Very recently I read Brave New Girl by Chloe Brotheridge. Chloe is a therapist who specialises in anxiety disorders and there was one tidbit in this incredible book that hit me right in the sweet spot: carrying a massive secret around can sometimes be the root cause of anxiety.

Oh.

A lot makes sense now.

The thing is: after coming out I found confidence for the first time in my life. I began to move around the world with more ease, rather than shuffling around like I had done before. I looked people in the eye when they spoke to me. I could talk back if I needed to. I felt less weird having serious conversations. I could actually connect with people on a deep, emotional level.

Having the confidence to be honest about who I found attractive opened up the door for me to become honest about who I was in every sense of the word. I ditched hobbies that I only had a passive interest in and focused on my passions instead. My clothing choices became more consistent. I became confidently vegan rather than awkwardly pretending I wasn't hungry. I've also shared publicly that I would consider an open relationship. I applied to a university course last year that would have resulted in a change of career direction. I post things online that I know my family won't like, but I know now that I don't live for them.

I've become the most honest version of myself in every way possible. And, fuck, does it feel good.

And the thing is? Nothing bad came from coming out. All those years I was scared to be myself because I felt like I was too nerdy, too bisexual, too introverted, too awkward, or too vegan. Truth is: the only people I lost were the people I chose to walk away from in the summer of 2017. In the two years since I've come out, I've developed - for the first time in my life - a proper support system. Not just people to hang out with or people I talk to in a superficial way. But deep, emotional, and authentic relationships.

High school me would think you were lying if she was to be told that the 28-year-old version of her would say these words but...

....I'm popular now?

People like the real me. They really like her. Some people actually love her.

One of my friends Abbey - who I met about eight months after I came out of the fridge - told me that her favourite thing about me is that "Morag is just so Morag". I almost cried when she told me this as less than a year before I met her I was only just beginning to embrace the honest version of myself.

I've also received DMs from people thanking me for how open I am. And that shit always makes me cry happy tears. I want to hug the younger version of me and everyone who feels they have to hide from the world for something so trivial.

Coming out of the closet also helped clear up another issue that had followed me around for years: my inability to commit to someone romantically. I've only had two official relationships in my life, but these were both when I was a lot younger. I have spent the bulk of my twenties single. Which has been fine, as being single is not a bad thing. However, one reason I was hesitant to commit to anyone was that I wasn't being honest about who I was attracted to. Yes, I could have just married a man because, duh, I have always been genuinely attracted to those creatures. But I couldn't do so while knowing that I hadn't given myself to full opportunity to date all the genders that I really wanted to before picking that one special person. There was that nagging thought "do I really want to end up with a man, or would I prefer a girl?". If I end up with a man now, I'll confidently know that it's just how things worked out.

A few months after coming out I started dating a girl in the late spring of 2018. It ended a few months after it began, and after we parted ways the idea of a serious romantic partner to whom I was committed to was no longer scary. I no longer felt like I would be missing out on something that I secretly craved. Bisexuals don't have to have slept or dated a person of every gender to be valid but, for me, I didn't want to go to my grave having not done so.

Since then I've been fine with the idea of romantic commitment. I've not found anyone, but I have given random suitors a real chance. Not long after things ended with that girl, I began to develop my first big crush on someone in years. It was a man, and the idea of committing to him didn't seem scary. I mean, it didn't work out in my favour but it was nice to have a big crush on someone without being scared to do something about it (new Morag wasn't scared to pursue and did speak up!)

I've also given some thought as to how I would like to identify. I love that language has evolved to include new identities that explicitly describe someone's sexual attraction. I've chosen bisexual mostly because its the mainstream term and you don't need to explain it to people. Though the word bisexual does come with stigma, because when you get technical (and pedantic) about it: it means attracted to two genders. I do not believe there are only two genders and I am attracted to people across the gender spectrum. But I wouldn't say I'm gender blind, which is why I've always rejected the term pansexual. But there is a power in reclaiming words that have negative connotations and I would love to see the meaning of the word bisexual shift to reflect the modern world. But sometimes I worry that this is my cis-privilege showing (call me out if I need it).

However, two other identities I feel comfortable with are polysexual and fluid. Polysexual means attracted to many genders, but not all. Which does more closely sum up how I feel. But I have had to explain what it means to people - even people on queer dating apps! And fluid means that someone's sexual orientation can shift. My attraction has always been fluid, and I have no "fixed point" on how attracted I am to different genders. Months can pass by where I feel monosexual, but then I shift back into the centre.

Coming out about my sexual attraction also created an environment where I began to explore my romantic attraction and attitude towards relationships in general. I wrote about it in-depth earlier this year. When I began dating a girl in spring 2018, it was the first time where there was a big conversation about what we were, rather than just making assumptions based on labels. We were romantically and sexually involved, but we agreed that we were not life partners and were free to date other people (but be honest about it). To be fair, I had mentioned in passing before coming out that I felt curious about polyamory and open relationships (me and my first ever boyfriend talked about it!). Since we parted ways a year ago, I have tried to make a habit of talking openly to any sexual and romantic companions on how we show up on each other's life. This chat always goes down better with queer people. Even bisexual men are in tune with the idea that it's not okay to assume what you are to someone (straight men are still very bad at assuming).

Dating as bisexual woman has had a few pitfalls. I'm now a prime target for those pesky unicorn hunters. And while threesomes are a very valid sexual fantasy, the way these couples go about wooing bisexual women is so...odd. So odd, in fact, that I have a half-written guide in my drafts about how to do it ethically!

And then there's the Gold Star Lesbians who would never touch a bisexual girl. In fact, the bulk of girls I've flirted with online have been bisexual (or something similar). Very rarely do I have gay women in my DMs.

But here's my personal favourite: straight dudes who I've matched with asking what my preference is. One, it's a very personal question to ask someone who is no more than a Tinder match. And two, it stinks of the myth that bisexuals can't help themselves and will ultimately cheat on you with someone of another gender so, hey, let's check that she's more into men than girls so that I can trust her. Okay, I don't know their reasoning behind asking that question, but that's how it feels to be asked. Also: my preference doesn't stick for long (this week alone I've switched my Tinder back and forth between men and women).

Near the tail end of 2018, one of the mutual friends with the aforementioned frenemy popped up in my Messenger Inbox. We'd remained friendly-ish but she ultimately acted as if she expected me to change my mind and come running back (probably because I had in the past). I was invited to her NYE party, where I knew that person would be. I declined. Right after the new year, she messaged me pleading saying that she missed me and that she would ditch this person if it meant getting me back.

Ultimately, I didn't take her back (but hear me out).

A lot had changed since that night in my kitchen. She didn't miss me. At least she didn't miss the real me. She missed the super obedient, shy, and non-confrontational version of me that I used to be. She missed a girl that was similar to me, but ultimately wasn't me. Not true me, anyway. And our friendship had always been wooden because of that.

But also, I knew from my days in the closet that she doesn't believe bisexuals are real. As in, I've heard her say that word for word. That's the thing with spending a chunk of your adult life in the closet: you know who the secret bigots are. And she was one. You don't need to be a brain scientist to make the connection between my decision to walk away from that particular group of people and my decision to come out.

And when I turned her down, she stayed friends with the person who was stood with me in that photo - despite knowing how badly they had behaved over the years. She was never going to walk away from that person because it would have been the morally right thing to do - she was only offering to walk away if it meant salvaging a friendship that lacked any real depth (hi if you're reading).

These days I am loud and proud about my sexuality. And I know that annoys some people. There are the flat-out bigots who just want everyone to marry someone of the "opposite" sex and make babies (they probably believe women should be in the kitchen too). Then there are the "I'm not against it but why do we need Pride" types.

Quite frankly: fuck you.

I spent my teenage years terrified that someone would catch on to the fact that I fancied a girl two years above me. I tried to fight it for most of my early twenties. It caused me to have social anxiety. I became frightened of my own feelings. I've missed out on pursuing girls who I liked in a mushy way because I didn't want to admit that I liked girls in a mushy way.

I was scared to love. And no one should be scared to love.

Coming out is my proudest achievement, but it shouldn't be. What kind of world are we living in that someone's proudest achievement is learning to love themselves in a world that still tells them not to? Or overcoming the gaslighting from a society that tells us that bisexuals don't really exist?

Coming out is bullshit and shouldn't be a thing. It's easier now to come out of the closet than it was a decade ago. But not everyone can live life freely. Even though I'm a millennial and don't belong to a generation fuelled with hatred, it still took me over a decade to come out. I also live in a safe enough country, but it still took me over a decade to come out. Yes, society's changing attitude helped me slowly get there - but ultimately it was letting go of the wrong people.

But despite coming out on the internet, there are still situations where I choose to stay quiet.

I'm lucky enough to be out at work. It's the travel industry, an industry that is typically dominated by women and a lot of the men that do work in it are LGBT+ themselves. I also work in digital marketing, which is hardly the most corporate occupation ever. But I do sometimes fear the day when I move on and have to come out all over again (or choose not to!).

But I have also discovered bi-erasure first hand. Very recently I met a new person who, when I mentioned I was going on a date, immediately used male pronouns. On this occasion, I was going on a date with a man but I wasn't sure if I wanted to randomly start a conversation saying "hey, on this occasion, it is a man I'm going on a date with but just so you know...".

And then there are the people who know fine well I'm bisexual but still seem to forget.

I have made the decision, however, not to explicitly come out to my family. Since I'm loud about it online, I know a lot of them must know. It's not a secret; they are allowed to know. Largely the reason I've never told them is that the topic has never arisen. When I came out to my friends, it was when I began going on dates with girls and non-binary people. I didn't say anything until there was something to tell them. But because I've never had the kind of relationship with my family where they'd know about random flings and Tinder dates, the natural opportunity has never come up. They only know when I'm dating someone if the person I'm dating becomes an official partner - and that's why I've ultimately made the decision to only explicitly say "I like girls" if I meet a girl I want to commit to on a serious level.

And I know there might be an element of "bi-privilege" to this but: I might still end up with a guy anyway, and I'd rather not put myself through an awkward conversation with family members about liking girls only to never bring one home.

Saying that I am very grateful for the family members who have liked posts on Instagram and Facebook that acknowledge my sexuality. That's all I'm looking for. I don't really feel like having an in-depth chat about my sex life with family members, thank you very much. I chose to come out in a natural way, and I'd prefer for it to be acknowledged in a natural way.

Would my life be different if I had come out sooner? Yeah, probably. But given I was surrounded by biphobic assholes for years, I was never safe to. And I stand by that. Words can be weapons and having friends who denied the existence of bisexual people caused me to doubt my own sense of self. I've not forgiven the people who made me feel like I had to hide the real me - and probably never will.

There is nothing wrong with not being out. We all have different stories and varying levels of safety. I'm not even sure if I would come out sooner if I could do my life again. All I care about is that I am out now and sharing my story loudly so that fewer people have to feel the way I did for over a decade. If just one person accepts themselves after reading this 4,000-word ramble then I consider the multiple re-writes to be worth it.

When writing this post I chose to not hold back. Part of me did almost remove certain anecdotes (mainly the parts where I discuss family and ex-friends) but I wanted it to be the real story of how coming out changed my life. Not a wishy-washy version of the story where I'm like "yeah, everything's great now and I'm not angry at all".

But all things aside, the last two years of my life have been the happiest and most peaceful of my life. I'm finally sitting right in my own skin and I'm no longer frightened of everything. And all because I did something as simple as admitting to myself that I could fall in love with someone regardless of their gender or sex.

That night in my kitchen I never imagined that coming out would lead to the level of happiness I now feel. The idea that finally accepting the very thing that I had tried to run from for over a decade was the very thing that would set me free still seemed too bizarre. I was scared really fucking scared, but it turned out I had nothing to be scared about. Because that night was the night my life really began.

Anniversaries are always special, no matter what they celebrate or mourn. But some just hold a larger significance.

And for me, the most special anniversary of all is the one where I took a deep breath and gave myself permission to love. Not just permission to love people of all genders, but permission to love myself in all my bisexual reality.

13th October 2017.
QuickEdit
morag | mo adore
0 Comments
Share :

RSSGoogle Friend ConnectBloglovinFeedly

Follow moadore on Snapchat!

Recipes, love letters and general chit chat can be sent to moadore@gmail.com.

Follow @moadore