Thursday Murmurings
Birds of a feather, flock together
(Image from Hindustan Times/Sultan Faizy)
Greetings, you beauties!
Kicking it off this week by shouting out the women of Afghanistan. Many of them have armed themselves and taken to the streets in protest against the political gains of The Taliban in certain areas. I can’t imagine having to live like this. I can’t imagine the bravery and strength it takes to have to literally fight for your basic human rights. I am in awe of these women.
This article is definitely worth a read if you’re unfamiliar with what’s happening there.
Some things that caught my eye this week:
This piece on the weird allure/dominance of Joe Rogan is worth a read, ‘cause Lord knows, I am often baffled by his omnipotence.
Ronan Farrow takes a deep dive into the life and times of Britney Spears and it makes for some very interesting reading.
I still don’t have the words for Bill Cosby being released from prison. I just can’t stop thinking about all those women who came forward and how they must be feeling - to have, against all the odds, experienced what must’ve felt like a teeny bit of justice, only to have it ripped away on a technicality. It’s gross. The whole thing makes me feel sick. But this piece, beautifully written, explains why hearing guilty, and not ‘sorry’, is so important.
The unending allure of the tattoed boyfriend and the pretty girlfriend.
On Monday’s edition of The Murmuration, I’m talking about child free women and how making the choice to be child free is still a somewhat controversial one. Throwing in a bit of an analysis of some of the weird comments and attitudes that are thrown the way of child free women too, of course.
For the love of God, people with kids, you have to stop telling single or child free people that they will never know what love is unless they have a child. At best, it’s grossly offensive and patronising. At worst, it’s hideously insensitive to people who can’t or are struggling to have children. It may be your truth that you didn’t experience this level of love until you chose to reproduce, but please do not assume that everyone ranks love or life experiences the same way.
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My young prince, Biggie Smalls, turned 4 years old yesterday. I’m not sure how he’s getting even more adorable with time, but somehow he’s managing it.
Until next week, smile at strangers, spread good vibes, be nice to people.