Stories
- All
- // no.01
- // no.02
- // no.03
- // no.04
- // no.05
- // no.09
- Alice
- Alicja
- Amira
- Amy
- Becky
- Caroline
- Cerowyn
- Chloé
- Constanze
- Dorothy
- Emily
- Eugénie
- Genesia
- Gervaise
- Gözde
- Ivy
- Jacqueline
- Jade
- Joanne
- Judy
- Julia
- Kate
- Lila
- Lily
- Manisha
- Mary & Lily
- Naomi
- Paula
- Pauline
- Périne
- Rachel
- Rebecca
- Roisin
- Seema
- Sophs
- Stephanie
- Sue
- Val
- Vlada
- All
- // no.01
- // no.02
- // no.03
- // no.04
- // no.05
- // no.09
- Alice
- Alicja
- Amira
- Amy
- Becky
- Caroline
- Cerowyn
- Chloé
- Constanze
- Dorothy
- Emily
- Eugénie
- Genesia
- Gervaise
- Gözde
- Ivy
- Jacqueline
- Jade
- Joanne
- Judy
- Julia
- Kate
- Lila
- Lily
- Manisha
- Mary & Lily
- Naomi
- Paula
- Pauline
- Périne
- Rachel
- Rebecca
- Roisin
- Seema
- Sophs
- Stephanie
- Sue
- Val
- Vlada
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.
By Chloé
I moved away from Italy to avoid fitting in a stereotypical patriarchal box that was built around me by the Church and the fear of men losing their power. The fear of the foreigner, xenophobia towards different mindsets, fat ladies, non-binary genders and minorities empowerment.⠀
Genderism has no place nowadays
By Roisin
Working in a high-paid industry, I am fully aware that I will likely be the main ‘breadwinner’ of my household, even though I am not a man. And that’s fine. I think more women need to be comfortable with the fact that it is ok. We're nearly in 2020, and I feel like following traditional gender roles only puts a restraint over potential.
By Jacqueline
I suppose I was asking for trouble. Swan-white limbs, lanky, and with ginger hair, early Saturday evening in Glasgow amidst the aftermath of a sectarian bout is no time to pound the streets in shorts and a crop top.
By Rachel Delahay
My work is given an agency by my skin, my sound, my history. If I deviate, it becomes fake. It’s this silent accusation of inauthenticity I have to protect myself from.
My identity is what reminds me of why I love myself
By Ivy
I am a lawyer, a corporate lawyer to be exact. One of those high heeled, tight skirted, ironed bloused, tight-lipped woman, who spends her days sipping diet coke in her glass-paned office overlooking the city. I smile at the older white men I am largely surrounded by and let them ask me if I have a boyfriend. I shave every inch of my body and dutifully apply red lipstick when we attend cocktail events. Right?