System overload

One thing that really gets me angry is when other people try to tell you how to live your life, especially when you are just plodding along harmlessly, not entirely in the mainstream and so it is decided that there is either a) something wrong with you mentally or b) you are some rebellious naive young girl who will eventually grow to love the white picket fence.

As I write this to you I sit here with four broken ribs as a direct result of expressing my opinion as a feminist about the group of policemen who ganged raped a woman in my country and am about to become homeless once again. Freedom of speech does not exist when it comes to that boys brigade. I had actually been silly enough to believe for a while there that my days of sleeping on the beach or under a park bench were over, I guess there is always time for a rerun.

When I was first diagnosed with Bi polar disorder I was thrown into a male run system that is effectively designed to keep women like me out of society as much as possible. My thai fishing pants, messy hair and unshaved legs were enough for them to decide that I needed help. I was put into a tiny windowless room with a man and a clipboard. He talked at me about how young women my age are usually interested in finding a long term relationship and their schooling, cooking, gardening etc. Don't get me wrong, some of these things I like, but when told that this is all I should like I just got angry. I asked this man of around about my fathers age, "what if I am not interested in those things? What if I just want sex now and then and no relationship? What if I want to paint till 4am and have an overgrown garden?", his answer to this was "Well, Emily, that is why you have been sent here, so we can help you with that".

My refusal to cooperate with what in my opinion was crazy landed me with no job, money and subsequently I have been kicked out of my flat.

Live how you want to live girls. I am not going to stop just because of a few broken bones or a few days homeless. We are fighting, still fighting, like the women before us. I won't give up for anybody or anything. I am me damn it, not an apron hanging in some mans kitchen.