Tag: young

Peace to Ukraine

Peace to Ukraine

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Every day, devastating things happen across the globe; some make the news for a few days, whilst others go completely unspoken of because public news stories only ever last as long as people’s attention spans – which, if you need clarification, isn’t very long. But at the minute, if you’re in Europe, then pretty much the only thing being shown by news channels is the Ukrainian-Russian War, and because I know that there’s no way of telling how long Ukraine will keep the attention of the continent, it only felt right that I say something on a platform where I know that some people will listen.

Right now, I’m being reminded of the extent of my privilege as a white, English, young woman because I’ve never known what it is to have friends or family in a country suffering persecution and war. But this time is different. I worked in Ukraine for 2 months in 2019, and for 3 weeks in the summer just gone, so whilst I may only know this country on a very small scale, it’s frightening to be texting friends who’re hearing bombs and hiding in metro stations when just 6 months ago we were sitting and laughing together, as they taught me Ukrainian and teased me about my accent.

The concept of invasion by a foreign power is not something many Brits have any understanding of, given that for centuries this nation was the threat and not the other way around; conveniently protected by oceans. This has largely meant that we can’t fathom what it would be like to live in a country where you’re never safe from invasion. We don’t really have the cultural capacity to imagine what it’s like to be told that you’re not what you thought you were, that the language you speak is no longer allowed, or that your home is now not the safest place to be. Hence, I can’t truly be an empath for my Ukrainian friends right now – no matter how much I might want to – but what I can do is draw as much attention to their voices as possible.

This isn’t a time to be passively ‘upset’ about what you’re seeing on the news, because as much as feeling sad or frightened is totally valid right now, my friends need more than that: they need something tangible.

So, listen to what the Ukrainian people are asking for and donate to their armed forces, go to a protest where you live, and keep talking about how blatantly wrong it is that these imperialist actions are still able to happen in the 21st century. Even if I couldn’t put faces and personalities to this crisis, what’s happening in Ukraine right now is an unforgivable violation of human rights, which should never have been allowed to go as far as it already has. This historical event isn’t unprecedented, and it isn’t something unique to Ukraine. But surely, this happening so close to home should emphasise how people need to actually learn from history, rather than ignore it and then hopelessly repeat it until we all kill each other.

My words don’t feel sufficient right now, but they’re the best I can give to help my friends. Thus, I hope for them, that the rest of the world pulls through and that this insanity can end soon so that they’re not robbed of anything else.

All my love to you, and peace to Ukraine.

Be my Valentine

Be my Valentine

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’ve thought long and hard about how I want to address that. Earlier in the week, I’d toyed with not mentioning it at all and just posting something else I’d written; I thought about how I don’t want the only two themes of my posts to be relationships or my disability, even though I know that those are the topics my readers gravitate towards. But Valentine’s Day is a big deal for lots of people (whether they want it to be or not), since everyone is so aggressively brainwashed to believe that we each need a romantic relationship to experience true happiness or success and that this is the time when we get to show off that happiness and success. Or, we get to not, and then have it implied that we should be sad about that.

I remember when I was about 18, talking to my mum about boyzz, and saying that I thought the reason I’d had disappointing experiences was because I trust people too easily. She scoffed at that, asked what I meant, and said ‘you don’t trust anyone’. That makes her sound really brutal – she’s not brutal, but she is honest, and she made me realise that I like to tell myself that just because I’m extroverted and kind, that that equates to me being super trusting of others. Except, what she said to me when I was 18 remains true as I type this as a 22-year-old: romantically, I don’t trust lads as far as I could throw them.

This lack of trust isn’t founded in some intense trauma; I might have had some bad luck in romance so far, but I’m fortunate to have never suffered that badly from it. Honestly, the worst thing that’s happened to me in that arena is that the very few lads I was really interested in have hidden me. The first boy I ever really liked actively kept me a secret, by asking me to do things like turn my Snapchat maps off if I went to his house so nobody knew I was there, he’d never post me on his story like he would when he was seeing other girls, and he’d only be out in public with me if it suited him. Then there were the other couple of crushes who preferred a kiss behind closed doors and us to never mention it again.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: all of that’s awful and I don’t seem like someone to stand for that ridiculously toxic behaviour with the things I say in these blogs. You’re right about both of those things. I tolerated all of that sh*t when I was younger because it was subtle, I was desperate to be a part of the romantic relationship world, and we don’t always practice what we preach when we’re in the situation.

If I were to describe how I’d feel about being in a relationship now though, I honestly think that my main feeling would be terror. (I laughed when I typed that though, so don’t read this as if I’m crying about it.) I guess I’m scared of being with someone because I have absolutely no idea what that’d look like in my life: I’ve seen others do it, but I don’t know who I’d be in that context. So, the prospect of that degree of new experiences and emotions is ridiculously exciting, yet I can’t help but be scared of it as well.

I think that Valentine’s Day is a funny one because it’s nauseatingly commercialised, and it’s one day of the year when people seem to be obnoxiously happy or obnoxiously bitter or ambivalent about the whole thing. We all know that in the grand scheme of things it matters very little if you get a bit of cardboard through the door saying ‘be my Valentine’ or not, but at the same time, many of us can end up feeling pretty low when the 14th February is like any other day. That’s just because we’re human, and we want to experience love.

So, even though we know Valentine’s Day is pretty pointless, be as obnoxiously happy or sad or anything in between as you want. Plus, it’s Pancake Day soon!

International Women’s Day

International Women’s Day

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

In the spirit of International Women’s Day, I thought I’d dedicate a blog to all the strong women out there in the world. So to all my male readers: I’d really like you to read this one.

It’s no secret that I adore men. I grew up in a male-dominated household and will always have a huge part of me which craves attention and friendships with men. So that makes it even more infuriating when I speak about the struggles I face as a female in this world, and people think I’m attacking men. I’m not attacking men by being a feminist, I’m asking them to agree that we’re equal: I’m asking them to love and respect women, as much as I love and respect them.

Sexism is a word that has become trivialised and made into a joke. Feminism is brushed off as ‘crazy’ women growing out their armpit hairs, burning bras and hating men. But sexism exists everywhere, and feminism literally just means that the sexes should be equal – one shouldn’t be perceived as superior to the other. So, if you don’t identify as a feminist then you think that women aren’t entitled to the same rights and respect as men – and if you think that, then seriously, what century are you living in?

No matter your gender, you’ll face various struggles and moments of prejudice in your life – but objectively speaking, you’re already lagging behind if you’ve come into this world as a woman.

We have so many things we have to rail against when it comes to just existing: our bodies, our minds, our emotions, our successes, our failures, our opinions, our desires, our words, our clothes, are all subject to scrutiny and judgement on a day to day basis. And the fact of it is, if we were seen as equal to men in all respects, then every single human on the planet would benefit.

Just think about it: if women weren’t ridiculed for being over-emotional, then would it be so taboo for men to talk about their feelings? If women weren’t objectified sexually and encouraged to be passive, then would men always have to be strong and dominant? If both of the sexes were treated as equals, then how much time and energy would we save on not having to have this conversation over and over?

I’m 20 years old and I’m already bored of it; I can only imagine just how bored women and men who’ve been feminists for years are by now. However, regardless of the obstacles I face living as a young woman, I will always be proud of my gender.

I was lucky to grow up in a household where both of my parents chose to raise 4 feminists: 3 boys and 1 girl. If anything, my brothers got the most attention when it came to that because my parents knew that raising a feminist daughter was important, but not as important as raising feminist sons. No matter what I do, or how proud I am to be a woman, my gender dictates how much respect I’ll receive in the wider world. In order for the genders to be treated equally, unfortunately it’s the men who have to make the most noise: they’re already more likely to be listened to.

So when you see things talking about ‘International Women’s Day’ or ‘Feminism’, they’re not just directed at the women. Women AND men should love, respect and celebrate each other as much as possible, then maybe we’ll get somewhere.

Let’s affect some change boys, and trust me once we’ve done it, we’ll all feel better for it. But can we do it quickly please? I’m getting kinda antsy over here.

Xx

Like a virgin

Like a virgin

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

This week I want to talk about the one thing that FILLS the minds of people of all ages, especially those around my age and younger: sex – more specifically, losing your virginity.

It’s a big topic since everyone’s sex life is such a huge deal in today’s society. People put so much pressure on when and how they should lose their virginity, that the act itself is made out to be this big, momentous, personality-shaping, potentially life-ruining moment. To a large extent, I agree that the details of when and how you have sex for the first time are massively important, but not for the same reasons society forces us to believe.

First of all, I don’t believe that there’s a ‘right’ age to do it (except past the legal age obviously). Whenever you choose to have sex, as long as you’re both safe, able to change your minds and feel ready, then so what if you’ve known each other for years or for hours? There’s no need to build it up to be this moment where you need to have been in a relationship for years, on some romantic weekend away, with rose petals on the bed. Let’s be frank, for most people it’s kind of messy and uncomfortable and anticlimactic. Oh, and for most girls, it hurts like a B**** (!) for the first time: yeah, they don’t mention that bit in the movies, do they?

Also boys/girls (but mainly boys): if the girl bleeds, then just be a nice guy and don’t freak out about it. You may not have known that sometimes that happens (and that it’s tOtally normal) but equally, the girl might have had no idea either and your reaction will be a big deal in how she feels about it and herself – both at the time and afterwards. Speaking from experience, the boy I lost my virginity to wasn’t a saint in how he treated me overall, but when I bled he didn’t care one bit so neither did I – if you’re reading this buddy, thanks for that. Xx

Having worked at a girls’ school and just generally being surrounded by people, it’s clear to me that popular culture’s airbrushed narrative of sex and the loss of a person’s virginity is toxic for the individual. You have girls and boys with these unrealistic notions of what sex is going to be like, ultimately ending with disappointment when their reality doesn’t match what they expected. I have so many friends who’ve felt like they nEEded to lose their virginity before University, or in the first week, just so they didn’t have to carry the shame of not being experienced in that area. Sex is a super intimate thing to do with someone, and like everything, you get better with practice.

Personally, I don’t have anything against one-night stands – hey, if you’ve got an itch to scratch, then do you (!safely!) – but I very strongly believe that they should NOT happen through someone being ashamed of being a virgin. That shouldn’t even come into play.

So, if you’re reading this as a virgin, then please don’t force yourself to rush into it just because you think you need to, and don’t expect it to be perfect! I mean, I lost my virginity at 17, but at 20 I’m still yet to thoroughly enJOY sex because, fun fact: it takes a lot of females years of being sexually active and a few sexual partners to get the full experience we all hear so much about. So if you’re in that position too, then it’s cool man, you’re not the only one. Plus, just because you don’t have an orgasm doesn’t mean that it’s not fun.

If you’re over the legal age, feel ready, and are safe (in every way), then you’re good to go. But if you aren’t ALL 3 of those things- even if just 1 of them isn’t right- then like I told my Year 11 girls who asked me about this when I was a Teaching Assistant, the braver and more worthwhile thing to do is just wait until you can tick all 3 of those boxes. Looking after yourself is a l w a y s a good idea, especially when it comes to sex – and that goes for e v e r y o n e.

Losing your virginity might be a bit of a flop orgasm-wise, but as far as I’m concerned sex should always just be fun. So do it with someone that you like and feel good around – that way, it’d be hard not to enjoy it.

A n d u s e p r o t e c t i o n k i d s !

Raising a disabled child 101

Raising a disabled child 101

by elizabethmdouglas ♥ 1 Comment

As a young girl, I was incredibly confident, outspoken, enthusiastic, and so fortunate that my parents never allowed my disability to suffocate that. My childhood had a fair few tumultuous years: I had operations, infections, insufficient footwear causing more infections, new parts of my condition popping up as I grew and so many other problems I can’t even remember. All of this was then exacerbated by my free-spirited attitude leading me to accidentally injure myself and then not understand why I couldn’t walk like the other kids, obviously ending in huge upset.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to imagine how completely I could’ve been crushed by my Spina Bifida. There are children out there who are unable to live away from it, and in all honesty, for a time I was one of those kids. Aged around 7, I spent the best part of 18 months in and out of hospital and in a wheelchair and yet, my family managed to make me feel just like any other kid. They worked tirelessly to protect my personality from my disability: a feat I will probably never be able to repay them for.

It’s well-known that parents need to be supportive when their children are struggling in order for that child to feel safe, loved and happy. But having a child with a disability that you know nothing about requires a whole other level of support. To make life all the more challenging, my eldest brother has Marfan Syndrome and has his fair share of medical problems. So not only were my parents navigating raising 4 children whilst working full-time as English Literature teachers, they were working out how the hell to cater to 2 separate disabilities, whilst ALSO encouraging those children to feel equal to their non-disabled siblings and the rest of the world.

They managed it though.

I spoke a lot in my last entry about how complicated it is to live with a disability, but an important aspect of my experience is that I spent the first years of my life living as disabled with my family. I was so overwhelmingly supported that there was never any aspect of it where I was alone.

When I describe my childhood and adolescence as perfect, that isn’t to say that there weren’t points where I really struggled. For instance, I was in a wheelchair at 3 separate points in Secondary School – prime time for teenage insecurity and social paranoia. What made my early years perfect though, was the fact that everyone around me constantly made me feel normal. In the moments when I was physically or emotionally isolated from my peers at school, my parents and brothers kept me laughing and focused on a positive outlook on life.

This did then mean that at the beginning of this year, before my travels and before moving to University, I was confronted by the loneliness of moving out. I knew that I’d make friends at University, or wherever it was I went, but I now knew that my support system was about to be miles away. My family and friends who all knew my condition as well as a non-disabled person can, weren’t going to be 2 seconds away. This would mean that I would have to re-explain myself to people, bringing attention to my limitations in a way I’d never done on my own before. There would be no-one who knew me: I had this moment of realisation on the floor of my room, crying to my Dad, with an infected foot, weeks before my plane to Nepal.

It was only when I started to travel that I realised that I can do this on my own – even though it’s definitely not been easy so far. And it’s only thanks to the immense amount of love and support I had whilst living at home that I now (sort of) know how to. Thanks to my family, I’m confident in social situations and don’t shrink into myself when my disability is mentioned. Owing to my parents’ strength, I’ve learnt how to get respectfully passive aggressive with institutions or individuals when they seek to deprive me of things I need, because to some I don’t appear ‘disabled enough’ (side-note: what does that even mean?..). But most importantly, it’s thanks to all of my family’s unwavering support that I know that as lonely as disability can be, there will never ever ever be a time when I’m alone – no matter where we all are in the world.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you should raise a disabled child.