Is this a witch hunt now?

Is this a witch hunt now?

Recently, I’ve been trying to learn as much as I can about the world and other people. Though I’ve always enjoyed asking questions, it’s been the past few years of my life when I’ve really made an effort to engage with what’s going on around me. But I’m not just talking about reading the news, or history books; I’m talking about asking my peers questions about sex and relationships, questioning those in positions of authority, and challenging my own views on things as much as I can.

I’ve not reached any definitive conclusions – obviously, I’ve been on the planet for about 20 seconds. However, one of the things that I have come to realise is that people have a real issue with trusting each other. It’s understandably due to all the corruption and deceit experienced throughout human history. But it seems that even in the moments when there’s no need to be so suspicious, we’re automatically assuming the worst of each other.

And that’s kind of sad.

I’m not saying that people should never be suspicious of others, I’m only saying that in always assuming the worst of each other, we’re really losing sight of the importance of community. To make matters worse, in the total tumult of a global pandemic, our own government are explicitly encouraging us to turn on each other. So it might seem like nothing, but the second our government urge us to snitch on our neighbours, that is the moment when our society has a HUGE problem.

Preaching about your civil rights is all well and good, but remember that you aren’t the only person in this society. You can’t dob people in just because you judge what they’re doing as wrong: it’s your right to live your life the way you want to, but don’t forget that your neighbour has the same rights as you. Let’s not have an ego trip and start playing judge, jury and executioner over a neighbour allowing another person into their own home. Frankly, taking that road leads society to dictatorships, ignoring the presence of concentration camps, and public executions. It definitely doesn’t lead to any kind of effective democracy – it never has.

Thus even though it can sometimes lead to disappointment, we really need to trust each other more. After all, very few people commit crimes sp there’s no need for us to assume that the worst will always happen first.

Government likes to dismantle community to strengthen its own control. But the government won’t be the ones rushing to your aid if you get knocked over by a car and start bleeding in the middle of the street. They won’t be there to speak to you when you’re lonely. They won’t be the ones you ask to look after your children whilst you run to the shop to get some more milk. So be careful about burning your bridges with your community: they’re the people you actually need.

Sex education

Sex education

This week I’m on my period. So for the past few days, I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing painful cramps, mood sWINgs, and a whole lot of bleeding. Too much information? Well tough.

Even though I have my period once a month, and it’s an entirely healthy part of my life, society encourages me to never talk about it. Then a direct consequence of this, is that women generally know very little about how their bodies work, and how to take care of them. And the men around them know even less. So no one knows anything, and half of the population’s physical and mental health is put at risk.

Not ideal.

But I’m not talking about everyone being able to regurgitate the facts they learnt in science – although you should be able to do that. This is about acknowledging the hormones and the pain women feel whilst on their periods as legitimate. We’re not overreacting: it f**king hurts. And as funny as it might be to see a girl cry over her bobble snapping, those hormones do genuinely mESS you up for a couple of days. I mean, sometimes we literally wake up in a pool of our own blood.

So, periods are intense and tedious enough: I don’t need society telling me that I should be embarrassed by them too. Nor do I need people to tell me how/what I should feel/wear/say/think when no one is taking an interest in my body or me anyway.

At the same time, I don’t know much about what male bodies go through. I know they don’t have such a dramatic time of it every month, but that doesn’t mean it’s always smooth-sailing. Like puberty, that doesn’t sound like a walk in the park for a boy – physically, or psychologically.

The point is that we never ask detailed, comprehensive questions about our bodies. But we go further than not asking: we stigmatise the topics so much so that it becomes ‘gross’ or ‘uncomfortable’ to even think about going there at all.

For women especially, getting to know yourself intimately isn’t normalised, so a lot of us just don’t do it – by ‘intimately’, I mean both sexually and biologically. A lot of my female friends have never even taken a mirror to have a look at themselves, let alone experiment with masturbation. Whereas a huge proportion of my male friends know their genitals as well as any other part of their body – maybe even better.

So if we’re saying that women barely know anything about their own bodies, and we then take that to talk about health and safety, how could we ever know that something is wrong, if we don’t know what we look like when we’re healthy? Then on a psychological level, how is it right that we’re so disgusted by our own bodies? We won’t touch or get to know ourselves but we’ll let some random lad who might ditch us next week do whatever he wants? I dOn’T tHiNk sO.

Conversations about our bodies shouldn’t be separated according to whatever genitals you were born with, because we don’t exclusively socialise with people of the same sex. We need to ditch the euphemisms and the pressure, so we can learn to look after each other and ourselves more effectively. After all, knowing this information will definitely save someone’s life one day – maybe even your own.

Get woke

Get woke

The last 8 months have drastically altered the way the world works. By being forced to stay indoors for weeks – in some countries, months – on end, we’ve been thrust into personal isolation in a way we’ve never experienced. In the future, some will probably only talk about how they were really bored, unable to go on holiday, or gained an unhealthy obsession with TikTok during this time (guilty…). Whilst others will have worse tales to tell.

Overall however, there seems to have been an increase in how much the general public pay attention to the news. It’s an unsurprising change, given we had very little else to do…but even though people started watching the news more, it seems we still struggle to fully engage with what we’re hearing.

When we go through school, there are often moments in our classrooms when we’re encouraged to discuss the politics relating to whatever we’re studying: whether that’s how the social climate of 1920’s America influenced F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, or whether it’s answering the million-dollar question: why did Henry VIII have so many wives? However, a lot of the time our curriculum doesn’t actually encourage us to really think about the topics, and then relate what we learn to our society today. We learn phrases we know ‘the examiner wants to hear’, but we’re 15, so why would we need to care about these things outside of the classroom?

But then we come into the world and we’re completely unprepared to understand everything that’s going on. Only we’re not completely unprepared: it’s just that we’re rarely taught how to recognise that what we learnt about the Tudors, the Bolsheviks, or the Ancient Romans is relevant to us now. Furthermore, people think they don’t have access to politics because they don’t know the lingo. But politicians complicate things on purpose; they’re trying to make you think that you don’t get it because then you’ll leave them to it.

Plus as humans, we separate ourselves from our history and assume that because we weren’t there, we don’t need to give it that much attention. And our learning at school is for exams, it’s rarely for the sake of knowing. But trust me, you’d probably recognise a lot of the ideas and political tactics kicking about now, from your history lessons if you took a second to think about it. After all, humans can be amazingly innovative but we also have a habit of ignoring our past, then repeating it because we’ve ‘forgotten’ about it.

So I couldn’t care less about how many news articles you share on your social media: it’s your profile, do what you want. What I do care about though, is people asking questions and actively learning about the world they live in. We’re the next cohort of citizens and we’re inheriting a big, phat, stinking mess. I mean, the planet is literally dying…

You learnt so much about how the world works today from school and everything you’ve ever read. It’s not irrelevant and it’s not always ‘boring/depressing’: educate yourself about the positive/exciting parts of world history too. But there’s so much to be said for paying serious attention to humanity’s past mistakes, learning from them, and finally doing something else.

I listened to a podcast the other day that said around 22% of American millennials don’t even KNOW what the Holocaust was. And that’s terrifying. So please please please exit Instagram/Facebook/Twitter/TikTok for a couple of hours today and read a book, watch a documentary, listen to a podcast, read an article – I don’t care, just learn something new.

Discrimination is surprising

Discrimination is surprising

The response to last week’s blog has been amazing: people were completely outraged! And this was so weird (lovely !!, but weird) to me, because my getting blocked by students at my University didn’t even make me that angry: it wasn’t an unprecedented event. But you were all so shocked and furious! So, I realise, that you have no idea of just how poorly your disabled community is treated…

So let’s actually talk about disability and society, and let’s first take the idea of ‘looking’ disabled. Well, I don’t ‘look’ disabled. But the fact that I don’t has had serious consequences on the way society treats me.

There are two instances from Secondary School relating to this which particularly stand out for me. The first was when I was in Year 7: I was 11 years old and I’d recently developed a blister on my foot from walking too much, or having a fold in my sock, or something else tedious. (Yes, folds in socks can shove me in a wheelchair for months: it’s that stupid.) So in an attempt to avoid going into my wheelchair, I started to use the lift for disabled students to cut down my walking.

I was outside the lift one afternoon on the way to my next lesson with my best friend when my Deputy Headteacher came over and asked me what I was doing. I politely explained how I had a note from my parents, that I had a blister and that I had to use the lift. She didn’t look at my note, and she wasn’t interested when I started to lift my trousers so she could see my shoes. Instead, she yelled at me saying ‘a blister?! I’ve never heard such a thing! You’re stopping disabled students from using this lift!’. So I went to lesson in floods of tears: completely humiliated.

In this moment I didn’t ‘look disabled’ to my Deputy Headteacher: I didn’t have a noticeable body deformity, sound disabled, nor was I in a wheelchair. Flash-forward 2 weeks however, and I was in a wheelchair…no challenges as to why I was using the lift then…

The other memory I have is from being in Year 10 – the 3rd time I was in a wheelchair at Secondary School. My friends were pushing me through the halls to our lesson, and a student I didn’t know saw us. He shouted ‘piss off! I saw you walking last week, get out of that thing!’ at me across the hallway. I was stunned but my friends shouted back at him and we kept moving. Clearly, to this boy I was a liar; I was the person the media and government demonise as ‘abusing disability services and benefits’, and he took this moment to publicly expose my lie.

The world is constantly fed this finite version of what it is to be disabled: what it looks like, what it sounds like and what it feels like. But nobody ever takes the time to work out whether this stereotype is true. So just think about how many people you know without a disability: are they all the same? Do they all have the same bodies and personalities and emotions and ideas? Now think about applying that to disabled people. Do we all have the same disabilities? Do people who even fall under the same type of disability, have the same variation of that disability? Do we all look the same? Sound the same? Feel the same?

The answer is clearly ‘no’. Still, we’re grouped into one blob and are treated poorly by people and institutions who take very little time to try and actually understand us.

I’ve never been bullied directly because I’ve always had people standing up for me, and I’ve always had the confidence to stand up for myself. But I’ll always be vulnerable to discrimination by institutions and the general public because of an unwillingness of people to sit down and actually learn about things they know nothing about.

If you’re outraged by my experiences then start learning about other people’s, because I’m such a privileged white girl and my exposure to discrimination is nowhere near as bad as it gets. Trust me, you know more disabled people than you think, and you have more preconceptions about disability than you recognise.

Lol, I got blocked

Lol, I got blocked

When I first started this blog, I didn’t really think that anyone would read it. Then after a few months I realised that hundreds of people every week were clicking on my links. (!) And I thought that if I promoted it on social media, then maybe even more strangers would take the time to read what I write.

One of the ways I did this was by occasionally sharing posts to my University’s ‘overheard’ page. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s basically a Facebook page run by students of universities where the members share all kinds of things: information about houses, people trying to find things they lost on nights out, promotion of student events or student projects, all sorts. And when I shared blogs to this page, I received hundreds of reads on each article (one time, the views even reached over 1000 in 24 hours), with strangers sending me messages saying how much they’d appreciated my writing. Some even said ‘thank you’.

However, whilst many were grateful to me for talking about subjects such as social class at Durham University, others reported me as promoting a scam…This then caused me to get blocked from the page – a fact I only realised when I checked and saw that I could no longer access the student community.

Bit harsh, but never-mind, whatever.

When I asked the administrator of the page to unblock me, they did it straight away. Then last Wednesday I shared a blog about disability representation. I did so because disability is really not something I ever hear mentioned at Durham, and I thought that reading a blog about it might be a safe and easy way to get students in on the discussion. Plus, I thought, if you don’t want to read it, then just scroll, it’s not exactly an offending topic???

I received hundreds of reads and around 50 likes on that post. But once again, some found it so insulting that they chose to report it, and got me blocked. Only this time when I asked the administrator if they could undo it, they said they couldn’t because at least 50 students reported the post. At least 50 !!! The administrator didn’t remove or report it, my fellow students did.

Why am I even writing about this, you ask? Well, I’m writing about it because when I shared blogs about dating or relationships, they stayed up on the page for weeks – no problem. But then when I discussed social class or disability, at least 100 people took the time and effort to report me. So this isn’t about my ego, it’s about how objectively insane it is that at least 100 students at my university have reported articles about social class and disability as having no place on a Facebook page devoted to a student community. These people may make up a minority, but they exist, and they’re actively rejecting conversations about disability and social class, and I’m not okay with it.

Durham is one of the best universities in the country and many of those attending it will reach powerful positions in their lives; some will even become the people who make the rules in this country. So if later down the line these people are going to control my rights as a disabled person, then why can’t I ask them to try and understand what it’s actually like to be the disabled person?

If you don’t like my writing then it’s calm, just keep scrolling. But don’t tell me to sit down and shut up, or get me blocked because I’m not talking about something you want to hear: it’ll only make me more persistent.

Does being masculine mean you shouldn’t slut-drop?

Does being masculine mean you shouldn’t slut-drop?

I wanted to know whether these young men feel like they need to act/look/talk/think a certain way when they like someone, and whether they think there’s a generally accepted version of ‘attractive’ for the male sex.

My favourite response was: ‘I’m not saying I go around crushing beers against my forehead but I do maybe try and avoid slutdropping for hashtag bant’. I mean, that first part is just a really funny mental-image.

But overall, the answers were interesting because they were all pretty 50/50 on ‘yes’ and ‘no’, with equally passionate viewpoints on both sides. However, the ‘no’ answers had quite a lot of contradictions, with boys saying ‘no, not really’ or ‘definitely not’, but following it with ‘I try to be the most appealing version of myself’. Noting that it’s ‘pointless’ to be something they’re not in the first stages of getting to know a person, but still wanting to make themselves ‘more likeable’ to ‘not put girls off’.

I did completely understand what they meant: we all try to temper or alter ourselves when we first meet someone because we want them to like us. But, I can’t help feeling sad at how much pressure we put on ourselves just because we want the approval of a stranger…

Regardless of how many of these lads said ‘I just kinda do me’, there were a lot of mentions of the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ trope. The ‘v-line’ and the ‘older look’; the ‘jawline’ and the ‘muscular look’; the ‘confidence’ that always almost crosses over into ‘arrogance’. Oh, and ‘that typical white boy look’: I’m learning that for both men and women, other races have a lot more trouble with fetishisation than us Caucasians. But that’s a whole other blog.

Overall, the boys were saying a lot of things which equate to the experiences girls have our age. We all overthink how we should be when we’re trying to impress someone. We try not to change in front of strangers we fancy, but often we do it anyway. We have social standards we kind of want to live up to – no matter how impossible they might be. Our upbringing and our social class influence what version of ourselves we think is preferable to whoever we’re talking to. We’re all just kind of insecure and unsure at this age.

However these boys made a point that deserves a specific mention: not enough time is given to how much these pressures to look a certain way damage the mental health of young men. My friends were so right to tell me that ‘body image amongst men isn’t taken as seriously’ as it should be, because according to the National Centre for Eating Disorders in the UK, men are thought to make up around 50% of all cases. And I don’t know about you, but that statistic came as a surprise to me…

I think we’re doing pretty well in diversifying what it means to be ‘masculine’ in the modern world. But we’re moving so slowly. We still need to fully recognise that sexism is a huge problem for both men and women now: in 2020. If we sorted it out for women, then men would definitely feel the benefits too. Maybe we’d even realise that if someone likes us, then they probably couldn’t give less of a sh** about our hair colour or our height. Imagine it! A world without gender rules.

So, does being masculine mean you shouldn’t slut-drop? Well I certainly hope not. And FYI lads, if you want to play with gender expectations, then a little bit of eyeliner can go a long way too…I’m just saying.

Sometimes I’m in a wheelchair

Sometimes I’m in a wheelchair

Occasionally I develop a problem with my feet, and it can be as small as a blister or a cut but it almost always becomes infected. I can’t walk on it until it heals, and *POOF*: I’m in a wheelchair.

So…what’s that like?

Well obviously it differs from person to person. It’s also pretty impossible to generalise ‘a normal day’ of having an infection for me because: how did it happen? do I have the correct footwear? do I have enough footwear? am I at school? am I at home? am I at University? is it the holidays? am I still growing? have I just had an operation?- the list goes on.

Now is the longest time I’ve gone without using a wheelchair because I’m able to just avoid it since I don’t have school anymore. But so I can paint a picture for you, this is how it was during my last experience when I was 15 and I stayed in that bloody thing for 6 months:

I’d wake up, check my foot, take the bandage off and see what level of infected I was that day. Then I’d crawl into the bathroom – I can’t hop, my balance is non-existent lol. I’d do some next-level spider-man moves to get into the shower without allowing my infected foot to touch any surface, then I’d get washed. Finished, I’d have to carefully dry around the wound and make sure to not damage it further. Next, I’d have to dress my foot.

So I’d take out my medical kit, with all the specific products my feet require. I’d make a perfect bandage, ensuring that there were no creases in the entire thing because creases mean blisters and blisters are not my friend. It’s also important to mention that I don’t have any feeling in my feet, so infections don’t hurt: I recognise when my foot is infected simply by looking at it. So these bandages have to be perfect because the second I put my sock on, I’ve got no idea what’s kicking off down there.

NEXT, I’d have to get changed without accidentally catching the bandage on my clothes, or making it roll up once I put my sock on. Whenever it did catch or roll up, I’d have to start again. Then I’d slide down the stairs on my bum; hopping around the house using my zimmer-frame. (That’s right, I used to have a zimmer-frame, I’m cool.) My dad would bring my wheelchair into the kitchen and after my breakfast, I’d strap in. Once at school he’d push me to my friends and I became their responsibility for the day.

At every point in my life, all of my friends have become friends with me whilst I’m physically independent. So we’ve never started off with them being used to, or knowing what it’s like, for me to be in a wheelchair. Thus being in my wheelchair doesn’t just change my life, it changes the relationships my friends and family have with me.

Thankfully, my pals were mostly brilliant and loved the novelty of pushing me around. But we were children. So there were times when they were accidentally really unsympathetic or insensitive because they just didn’t know what it was like. Plus, they knew me out of the chair, so were used to me doing things for myself. This meant that sometimes they forgot that I wasn’t asking them to go and get me food, or to push me to the bathroom just to be annoying: I was asking because for that period of time, I couldn’t do it for myself.

And they also didn’t realise just how humiliating it felt for me to have to ask them to do these things. Even though I physically felt fine, since I never have any pain, all of a sudden I was overwhelmingly dependent on other people.

I’ve chosen to live a life where most of the time I’m so independent that I don’t seem disabled at all. And that has meant that in those moments when my Spina Bifida catches up with me, and all the actions I take behind closed doors to monitor it come into full view for the rest of the world, it’s just really hard to navigate.

It’s easy to say ‘I’m in a wheelchair, so everyone should be sensitive to that and help me with whatever I need’, but people are people, and you can’t tell them how they should or shouldn’t be. You can ask for help, but you can’t also expect them to fully comprehend something they’ve never had to experience before.

This is a part of my life that very few will ever know the full scope of because ultimately my disability is mine to deal with – not anyone else’s. My family and friends have always done their best to support me when I’m in my wheelchair, and their best is more than enough. And thankfully, being in a wheelchair is not a reality that I have to live in very often – but it does still happen. And even when it does I try and stay as chirpy as I am normally, because why make my frustration worse by spreading it?

After all, I’m one of the lucky ones: at least I always get back out of the chair.

Say what you mean, mean what you say

Say what you mean, mean what you say

Everyone knows that when you start new friendships at University, one of the most interesting parts of getting to know everyone is seeing how they operate when they’re on the pull. Or at least, I’ve always found it pretty fascinating…

By second term my friends and I were fully getting to grips with this part of each other’s personalities (and LOVING it). We’d all started to notice who had terrible taste in boys/girls, who attracts a certain type of person, who’s picky, who’s not that bothered, who’s shy about it, who’s really not, and so on.

But one mealtime when my female friend and I were talking to a couple of our boys about this, the discussion got pretty spicy.

Basically, the boys said that they find confident girls really attractive, and that they’d love it if a girl was just straight-up with them about what she wanted. They also said that they think that that’s a pretty universal opinion for boys our age. At which point my female friend and I, both very confident and honest with our feelings, told them that boys our age say that but they don’t actually mean it.

Now we live in a pretty PC world, where some people probably read what I just said and thought it outrageous that we tried to dictate an opinion to those boys. 😮 !!! However, what’s important to consider is why we said what we said. And, before someone gets all keyboard-warrior on me, please remember that things like this are always about personal experience.

Most people my age have no notion of who they are at this point in time: a totally normal and healthy position to be in. So when an individual is confronted with someone who appears to be really confident in themselves, incredibly self-sufficient, and very forthcoming with what they want from a romantic partner, that’s not always going to be super attractive. Sometimes it’s the opposite: it’s kind of intimidating, and makes some people feel a lot of pressure to match the other person’s level of self-awareness.

At this point the boys were seeing what we meant, but weren’t quite with us. So we went on to use some anecdotes for context because everybody lOves an aNeCdOte.

My friend explained how she’s very confident in her sexuality, and isn’t afraid to tell her romantic partners what she wants: exactly what many boys have described as vEry attractive. But in her life this confidence has often been misconstrued by boys as her being ‘too keen’, or ‘down for anything’ and ultimately, a bit of a slut.

And in my own case, I said how I’m really not afraid to be myself even in the early days of getting to know a boy – and I’m not afraid of giving a boy a compliment. However, in the times when I’ve offered to do something for someone I kind of like, or said that they look good, or have replied pretty promptly because I can’t be bothered to play the how-long-do-I-wait-until-I-reply game, I’ve also been seen as ‘too keen’ or ‘too much’ and ultimately, a bit too easy (the PC term for slut).

Our boys were totally with us now.

It also started to become a little clearer why some young women prefer slighter, or quite significantly, older men. Our explanation being that when we’ve spoken to men even just a couple years older than us, we’ve both felt a lot less judgement.

We’re all aware that men are more freely allowed to show their confidence: in fact, there’s intense societal pressure encouraging them to do so. It’s also well known that confident women are not as widely celebrated as confident men. Instead, they’re often feared and belittled. It’s just easier and more acceptable to be perceived as sexy if you’re male and confident.

So yes, my friends may well have meant it when they said that they like a confident girl. As your’s also might. But all my female friend and I were trying to say, is that we wish boys were more honest in saying what they like. If you don’t fancy us, then we’ll survive, people have preferences after all. Just don’t mislead us into thinking you’re attracted to our personalities, and then think us slutty when we stay true to them.

No matter any of our opinions and preferences it’s always better to be honest with people, and to show some R.E.S.P.E.C.T! Whether you fancy the person or not.

Tiktok is getting me through

Tiktok is getting me through

In my generation, a big part of the way we connect with one another is through messaging. Some of the best laughs I have with my friends is when we’re all firing messages off in our group chat, getting silly over someone’s use of caps lock or a stupid gif they sent. But somehow society takes those moments of joy and laughter, and categorises them as pitiful or poor examples of ‘genuine’ human connection. All because there’s a screen involved.

In general people like to complain about the amount of time the younger generation ‘wastes’ in front of their devices, and I do I agree with many of the points made in that discussion. However, I don’t see how it’s exclusively the youth who stare gormlessly at their phones for hours. We have to give some credit to the grandmas out there being total Facebook queens: somehow they manage to share, like and comment on every family member’s posts the SECOND they’re posted. And that’s a serious skill which deserves some recognition.

So, yes, clearly young people are the ones who know all the newest apps and how to use them, but it’s not just us ‘wasting’ time on social media.

I’ve put quotation marks around the word ‘waste’ here because I think we need to stop being so constantly negative about social media. It’s no secret that there are huge negative consequences for our physical and mental health when we overuse our phones. And we know that sometimes the internet can be a really dangerous place. But even knowing all of that, I still don’t think that social media is exclusively toxic.

For example, there are a lot of people in the world who find solace in life on the internet. There are stories of kids who feel entirely alone in their physical reality, but the second they step online they feel freer to be themselves. For years children just suffered on their own in places they felt they didn’t belong, and now there’s always another place for them to go to feel accepted. How is that not worthwhile?

With everything, there are positive and negative aspects: there will always be examples of extremes on both sides. Surely, that doesn’t mean that we should solely focus on the negative extreme? What about the good bit?

Like for me now on Day who-cares-what of Peruvian isolation, social media has been a total saving grace for my state of mind. No matter my location or time zone I’ve been able to see, talk to, and even watch films with my friends. We’re still able to laugh hysterically together, and forget the fact that we don’t know how long it’ll be until we can give each other a big phat hug again.

I spend too much time looking at my phone: I know I do. I know that spending hours on end watching Netflix or scrolling through Instagram doesn’t do my mental health much good. I know that after a while it makes me feel lethargic, more self-critical, and a lot less motivated to do anything productive.

BUT, as much as we love to complain about it and as much as we know the problems it gives us, we love social media. We love to laugh at silly videos, we love to sit and message our friends for hours, and we love to zone out and just stare at a screen for a bit.

So let’s just start to admit that we can’t help but love it! Then maybe we’ll work out how to respect it, and have more of a healthy relationship with it.

Corona, you’ve turned my world upside down

Corona, you’ve turned my world upside down

I guess the only thing I can really speak about this Sunday, is how the corona pandemic has affected my life. But don’t worry people, I haven’t got it. Or at least, I don’t think I have, seeing as people my age can just have it without knowing that they do…

But I’m pretty sure I haven’t got it…………………….? mOViNG oN

Living at University, my friends and I were all in a bubble where the world didn’t really seem to affect us much. The biggest excitement of our days was the prospect of a night out or any other silly s*** we could get up to. So when we woke up to be told that our University was going to shut early, and that we should take all of our stuff home with us just in case we didn’t come back for third term, we were all pretty taken aback. To add to that weirdness, I realised that I was going to have to call up KLM to ask them to move my flight because ever since February, my home is Peru. Which in itself is a totally new and bizarre concept.

I’d woken up ready to have a very relaxing day: I was going to watch some Netflix, eat some food, maybe shave my legs (Wild. I know), then go get drunk for my friend’s birthday. But at 2pm I realised that instead of this crazy Friday I’d had planned, I needed to speed-pack a suitcase and drive home to Yorkshire, ready to catch a flight to Peru the following morning. Complete madness.

Then when I was navigating through the airports, I was surrounded by people doing exactly the same thing. Some of them were pretty jovial and nonchalant about it, whilst others were complete nervous wrecks. The girl sitting next to me on the flight almost lost it when she spotted someone lying horizontally across the seats with a protective mask covering her mouth. I managed to calm her down by telling her that that girl lying down was severely disabled, and had come onto the plane in a wheelchair: she wasn’t dying of corona virus.

I’ve never had anyone look at me with such gratitude as she did once I’d told her that. *eye roll*

After over 24 hours, I made it here a day before the borders shut, and have been living in a state of national emergency ever since. What, you might ask, does that entail? Well! Let me tell you! It means that: if you leave your apartment for anything other than to go to the shop or to walk your dog, you’ll get arrested and fined £2000. So, since I don’t really fancy being locked up in a Peruvian prison surrounded by people speaking a language that I don’t, I haven’t been outside since I arrived. I feel it’s the most logical choice.

In all seriousness, the modern world has never experienced something like corona, and it’s led to a lot of things being cancelled. These cancellations has then resulted in a whole lot of sulking. And it’s 100% fine to sulk! I’m sulking about not having a summer term at University, and the idea of not seeing my friends for months. But just so we can help this thing end sooner and minimise the amount of people hurt by it, can everyone please just sulk at home? The sooner we sit in self-isolation, doing a jigsaw or playing monopoly, the sooner we’ll be able to get back to normal.

I’ve been in total lock-down for a week now and it’s really not that bad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not lOVing it, and I’d really rather not, but sometimes we’ve got to do things we don’t want to do. So don’t be selfish, and just stay inside for a few weeks until this all blows over. Also, don’t be that idiot who freaks out and stockpiles food: you’re not actually living through The Day After Tomorrow.

Plus! At least through all of this chaos and weirdness, the planet is getting some time to breathe as we stop polluting and abusing it so much for a few months. That’s got to be good, doesn’t it?