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- //no.15
- A.M.
- Alex
- Alexx
- Alice
- Alice M
- Alicja
- Amira
- Amy
- Andi
- Andrea U
- Becky
- Beverley
- Bipolar Abdul
- Bria
- Carolina
- Caroline
- Cathy
- Cerowyn
- Chloé
- Christine
- Cinenoir
- Constanze
- Dorothy
- Eliza
- Ellen
- Emi
- Emilie
- Emma
- Eugénie
- Fern
- Francis
- Freyja
- Genesia
- Gervaise
- Gözde
- Hannah
- Ivvy
- Ivy
- Izy
- Jacqueline
- Jade
- Jayna
- Jennifer
- Jessica
- Jessica B
- Joanne
- Judy
- Julia
- Kaitlin
- Kate
- Kate Ng
- Katie
- Kenny
- Laura
- Lena
- Lena B
- Lila
- Lily
- Lisa
- Liv
- Liz
- Lou Fox
- Lucy
- Maddy
- Manisha
- Margarita
- Mary & Lily
- Nanou
- Naomi
- Naomi C.
- Naomi N.
- Natalie
- Nicole
- Noemi
- Olivia
- Olivia W
- Paula
- Pauline
- Périne
- Rachel
- Rachel G
- Rachel W
- Radella
- Rebecca
- Rebecca G
- Roisin
- Rosé
- Rosie
- Roz
- Ruby
- Sam
- Sarah
- Seema
- Sophie
- Sophs
- Stephanie
- Sue
- Tanushree
- Tasha
- Tina
- Val
- Victoria
- Vida
- Vlada
- Zoë
___From insecurities to disability & growth
In September 2018, I had a sudden brain haemorrhage due to the rupture of an AVM. It was a month past my 51st birthday. [...] It has heightened my insecurities in spades, from body awareness, social acceptability and sheer functional ability, whilst challenging my thinking fundamentally.
___My sensitivity, my superpower
I have always been a sensitive person. I used to take the things that people would say about me very seriously and would get hurt a lot; Friends who suddenly decided to ignore me or tried to spread rumours behind my back would send me in a whirlwind of angst...
___Internalised misogyny and finding my femininity
Growing up, I became the defacto' man of the house.' In terms of traditional gender roles, the masculine ones, like fixing things around the house or taking out the rubbish, for example, were always my job. I didn't mind it. In fact, I enjoyed it.
As someone with an invisible illness, I straddle both the world of the healthy and the world of disability; but I don't really belong or fit into either. It's almost like I look too healthy to be disabled, but I am too ill to be healthy.
Sex and gender are the patriarchal markers by which I have a vulva, and I have a breast/breasts. After my unilateral mastectomy, I mentally unravelled.
Coconut. Oreo. Different. Not black. But too black. What is a black female? What does it mean to be the right black female?
___Finding art through my scars
I entered teenagehood in a world of physical pain. I couldn't understand why my body was inflicted with so much suffering and why my bones were falling apart at such a young age.
___My irrational goal of perfection
All my life, I have struggled with meeting my ideal of perfection. Body changes as a young female triggered my body dysmorphia.
I lost everything upon my university graduation; I lost the jet set start I'd earned as a 1st class honours student. The escape from my abuser made me run far, far away at great cost to my career; to all I'd worked for.
I was a victim of domestic violence. I hate the word victim and ironically, hate the word hate but it best sums up my feelings toward the stigma of being a 'victim'.
Who am I? Why am I? Where do I belong? Why can't I also do this? Why didn't they want me? These were the questions I remember asking myself from the age of 5.
___Sexy because I have confidence
As a teenager, I grew full facial hair. I felt so uncomfortable in my skin that I woud have to find time to shave twice a day and cake my face in make-up whenever anyone was around.