Imagine the era of written notes, love letters, postage stamps and envelopes. Imagine a letter your great-grandmother wrote to your grandmother, or your grandmother wrote to your mother. What does it look like? It’s brown, instead of white. There are thick dry stains of only God knows what: soup? Water? Oil? Definitely something liquid. Then dog ears that cannot be straightened. The writing is careful, scrawny, but careful — a little bit cursive even. You find it at the bottom of an old wardrobe or in between a pile of old books, pictures and journals from the 70s. Then imagine that after you read the barely decipherable writing, you squeeze it and throw it in the bin. Imagine that it sits in the bin for a second before you realise that maybe you should just keep it, maybe it means something to someone. That’s the exact state of this letter. It is a tired, tired woman.
And that’s only because I’m exhausted. It feels like 2020 has been going on for years: a lot has happened and is happening, but it doesn’t feel like much. I don’t know if you get that? It made sense in my head. I was supposed to write to you last week, but again, the exhaustion hit, and I couldn’t do anything. Struggling to write this even.
Let’s talk about womanhood for a bit:
Our existence as women is intertwined in many ways. Everything including nature (as Fu’ad likes to say) is skewed — sexist. Our plights are similar. Our struggles are the same. It’s the age old story of womanhood, but it’s one of the many things that has exhausted me in the past few days. So, I wrote some things:
Sexist Songs ft Falz and Kizz Daniel
How Not To Ask A Woman Out: “You Look Like My Mother And Other Stories”
Things To Not Say To A Fat Woman: Because a woman’s body is not an invitation to treat. If you know, you know.
Sexual Harassment and other heartbreak songs
Saying it here first: For the rest of the month, I’ll be talking to women about their sex lives and publishing every Saturday on the Sex Life column. It’s an exciting line up. The first story goes out this Saturday.
I can't yet articulate properly why these stories are important. But it's there, you already know it: being a woman is hard and we almost never ever catch a break. If you think I'm lying, then you should read this. This month, I want to write about many feel-good themes — women living their best lives in spite of this nonsense. Can’t wait to share these stories with you!
Also, (women) if you're not already subscribed to the ElleVest newsletter, you totally should: great financial + career + relationship tips.
What have I been reading?
The only calm in my busy mind comes when I read.
I’ve been reading House of Stone by Nuvoyo Tshuma and it’s just brilliant. This was a really enjoyable conversation about the world.
Something to think about: Rebecca Solnit explains, hope is “coming to terms with the fact that we don’t know what will happen and that there’s maybe room for us to intervene, and that we have to let go of the certainty people seem to love more than hope and know that we don’t know what’s going to happen.” I talked about this for a bit during my conversation with Demola on Saturday — that finding certainty, is learning to live with uncertainty.
I've been listening to the Serial podcast. Here's a good place to start. I don't even know where to begin explaining the case in the story. It's a murder case. But what I find interesting is how we all see experiences differently, and how, ‘he said, she said’ goes beyond conflicting reports that prototypically involves a man and a woman. Listen to one episode, please!
And then there's this: Stop Touching Your Face. In light of Coronavirus, I recommend it. This was super delicious writing about Burna Boy. Undercover stories will never not be superb. Case in point: Bizarre Rich-People Secrets I Learned Undercover at Canyon Ranch Spa. Want to know about the world's first known author? Read this. I'm not super keen on self-help-esque articles. But this had a take I already agreed on: Spending Time Alone Makes You Better To Be Around. And finally this on why sticking to your politics isn't exactly always good.
This isn't a ‘gba je ki n simi’ letter (BOLU). This is just me tired and wanting to tell you about my tiredness. Don't hug me if you see me, just smile; that's nice too.
Oh BTW: If you ever need a pick-me-up, Friends is your guy. Don't say I didn't ever do anything for you.