I am happy to admit that it can’t be easy being a girl. Menstrual systems and hormones – gosh that must suck. What do we get? Boners. I’ll take the boner. To state the obvious, the feminist revolution has done amazing thing for women’s image and identity. And things can only get better. There is…
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(Or: How I learned to stop worrying…as much). It took giving a couple of spiky-haired strangers the finger to finally figure out what was wrong with me. I was at the ripe, bugger-off confusing age of seventeen; I was on the bus, heading to my fluorescent-lit retail job. The sun was setting in that bright,…
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An eating disorder can be described as a marathon. And in that image, it isn’t ever just the sufferer that is running. Their community – friends, parents, teachers, siblings – can be asked to step up without training, without warning, or proper footwear. This isn’t the fault of the one who’s fighting. But it is…
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“Don’t worry.” “Just Relax.” “Calm down.” I think if I hear these words directed at me just one more time I might actually go mental. Oh wait, technically I already am. I have what is called Social Anxiety Disorder, which amongst other things means I now get to tick all sorts of extra boxes on…
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I have a confession: I used to have an eating disorder. One that consumed me from the ages fourteen until eighteen. Anorexia Nervosa, to be specific. But I spent so long having to talk about it in the out-patient program, then to my friends and family afterwards, that I soon tired of mentioning it, and…
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