Stories
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- A.M.
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- All
- // no.01
- // no.02
- // no.03
- // no.04
- // no.05
- // no.06
- // no.07
- // no.08
- // no.09
- // no.10
- // no.11
- // no.13
- // no.14
- A.M.
- Alex
- Alexx
- Alice
- Alice M
- Alicja
- Amira
- Amy
- Becky
- Beverley
- Carolina
- Caroline
- Cerowyn
- Chloé
- Christine
- Constanze
- Dorothy
- Ellen
- Emi
- Emily
- Emma
- Eugénie
- Fern
- Freyja
- Genesia
- Gervaise
- Gözde
- Hannah
- Ivvy
- Ivy
- Izy
- Jacqueline
- Jade
- Jennifer
- Jessica
- Jessica B
- Joanne
- Judy
- Julia
- Kaitlin
- Kate
- Kate Ng
- Katie
- Kenny
- Lena
- Lila
- Lily
- Lisa
- Liv
- Liz
- Lou Fox
- Maddy
- Manisha
- Mary & Lily
- Nanou
- Naomi
- Naomi C.
- Naomi N.
- Nicole
- Olivia
- Olivia W
- Paula
- Pauline
- Périne
- Rachel
- Rachel G
- Rachel W
- Rebecca
- Roisin
- Rosie
- Roz
- Ruby
- Sam
- Sarah
- Seema
- Sophs
- Stephanie
- Sue
- Tasha
- Val
- Vlada
By Maddy
I was bullied pretty much my whole way through primary and senior school for being ‘different’; I hit puberty first and was ‘bigger’ and bustier than the other girls my age. I went through a series of weight gains and losses trying to cope with what I was experiencing.
Queerly Autistic and Autistically Queer
By A.M.
I'm Autistic. The A-word. Capital' A' Autistic. No, I'm not good at science, and I won't even begin with how poor I am at maths. I can't predict how a game of Blackjack is going to turn out: if I could, I wouldn't be stuck with nearly this much in student-loans. I'm also Queer, in many senses of the word.
By Liz
The words I used to define myself are many and varied: Radiation protection scientist, principal investigator, researcher. Leader, manager, colleague. Wife, mother, lover. Vegan, runner. A non-drinker (just now). Extrovert. Good intentions, kind, easily riled. Not great at recycling, but trying. Happy, some of the time.
A Journal on Self-Love, A Note to my Sister
By Sam
My journey to self-love only started a few years ago. I can remember the exact moment, the phone call, like it was yesterday. I was at work- as a waitress- on a split shift prepping for the evening dinner rush. What should have been a usual catch up became 22 years old me listening to my 18-year-old sister cry and plead that she needed help because she had developed anorexia. And while I didn't know it then, that's the exact moment the journey started, because in having to teach Natalie to love herself, I had to teach myself how to love me.
By Ivvy
I am a non-binary, hairy, chronically ill, tattooed burlesque performer. I am not a girl. I am not a woman. I am not a piece of meat. I am not here to be something nice to look at. I am not a thing. I am sexy and kinky and dark and gentle and soft and kind. I am a human being.
My flawless imperfections are my identity
By Amira
I have felt that the colour of my skin, my features and my body were not the standards of “beauty” anyone would find attractive being born into western society.
The power of knowing who you are
By Kate Maxwell
Race wasn’t discussed at home which on the one hand seems wonderful and idyllic, on the other, I never really understood who I was, what made me different and powerful. How my lived experience would be different from that of my peers. It meant I didn’t have the fire in my belly to promote change and inclusion. Until now that is!
I am not a mix, I am my own person
By Pauline
My identity has always been stuck in-between the ends of different spectrums. I am bisexual, femme, and mixed race. The way I present myself as a queer multiracial woman has never really been accepted in the communities I'm part of. Never queer enough, never light enough, never dark enough, never masculine enough to fit the stereotype of women who love women.
By Dorothy
I’ve struggled with my body image for a long time, mainly because I never felt like I truly inhabited it. When people would comment on my physical appearance I wouldn’t understand – it felt like something detached from myself. Especially when I was 15-19, I really struggled to actually SEE my body, I didn’t have a relationship with it.
Crohns Disease: Surgery can mean a better life
By Amy
Everyone with Crohns Disease has a story to tell. For me, it had a fairly tight grip until I was 30 and was a very private illness. I’m a woman, and however wrong it may have been, it made me feel less feminine to discuss the symptoms. Everything took planning, even facing a plate of food. I was conflicted by hunger and fear. The potential for pain and embarrassment in getting it wrong was too great not to consider.
By Seema
My parents have been trying to hold a spintervention for my chronic singlehood since I moved back to London. It’s wrong.