Dancing on My Own

Ok, let’s get down to the truth of it. I am 41, and I am single. With a cat. Oh, the horror!! Lace up that corset tighter Ma, tonight I will find me a husband.

Want to know how I feel about that? I am glad you asked! It changes from day to day. Sometimes moment to moment. I believe in marriage, the white picket fence and the happy ever after. However, I don’t believe in settling. So basically, sometimes I ache to be in a good relationship, and other times, if you even try and interrupt my routine, I will cut you. What day you get me on, is anyone’s guess!

Here are some thoughts though, for all you loved up people out there. Yes, there are thousands of blogs about how people in long term relationships, or people who are married with children, envy the single friend in their life. ‘You have so much time to yourself!’ or ‘you can do whatever you want, when you want!’. Let me tell you how it really is. For me anyway.

The awesome parts of being single are – yes, I can do whatever I want, when I want. If I want to go out, I will go out. If I want to be in my pj’s all day and watch bad tv, I will do that too. I have a place to myself, and no one to worry about what they’re thinking or upsetting them with my routine. I can have quiet, I can have noise. I can talk to my cat, and no one thinks I’m weird. I don’t have to clean up after anyone or drive anyone around to appointments or sporting commitments. The best thing though – I can starfish in my queen sized bed and there is no one to stop me.

The not so great parts – sometimes it can be very lonely. Sometimes when everyone else around you is in a relationship, you get forgotten about. Your time and feelings can be pushed to the side because, you’re the single one. You have all the time in the world to wait around for people that are now two hours late because little Jennifer couldn’t find a shoe. You can be made to feel bad for not being in a relationship, because that is someone else’s standard of happiness. I once had someone send my MOTHER a letter with a picture of a guy, saying he might be good for me. Poor spinster Mandy, not married and popping out children. She obviously needs my help. Really? Do I?

Listen to me, I am just fine. If a relationship comes along, then great. If not, well hey, there is always room for more cats. There is no need for you to feel sorry for me, or try to set me up. Unless you know Ryan Gosling. Then please, go ahead. Honestly, I bet you can’t even name things I actually look for in a partner, or what I am attracted to.

Anyway, how do you know I haven’t got my eye on someone already? I’ll just let you sit with that.

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Million Dollar Question

A friend of mine recently pointed out to me, that she had to make sure she was on her own and prepared when she read my last blogs because they kept making her cry. So to balance that out a little bit, here are some random questions and answers to lighten the mood. Hopefully.

If you were a ghost, where would you haunt and why? Penrith Panthers dressing room. Backstage of any music venue.

In a zombie apocalypse, what would be your weapon of choice? Lucille, or a human I didn’t like as a shield.

What is a movie you can practically quote from start to finish? Hmmm Grease, Grease 2, Encino Man and Ferris Buellers Day Off.

If you could go back in time and make little changes to your childhood, what is one thing you’d learn and master over the years so you’d be an expert at it today? Some kind of instrument, so my inner rock star could come out.

How would you describe your sense of humour? Sarcastic, witty … I am very funny. Really.

What’s a random award or recognition you feel you deserve? I feel I deserve an award for not punching people in the face on a regular basis.

What is your happy place? I have a few. Camp Magic, Canada, a live music show or my bed.

What sport would be the funniest to add a mandatory amount of alcohol to? Curling, maybe javelin

What movie would be greatly improved if it was made into a musical? Blair Witch Project

What is something everyone looks stupid doing? walking into a spider’s web – never been more ninja in my life.

If animals could talk, which would be the rudest? I’m going to go with a Lemur. They are cute but I feel like they are silently judging everybody.

What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever worn? Back in the 90’s, silk shirts were in. I couldn’t find one that fitted right so I wore a pajama top and pretended it was a normal one. I am super cool.

What part of a kids movie completely scarred you? That part in NeverEnding Story where the horse gets stuck in quicksand.

If you were arrested with no explanation, what would your friends and family assume you had done? Probably assumed I had made my way backstage without permission.

What are the unwritten rules of where you work? It’s always someone else’s fault.

What is the best type of cheese? triple cream brie … but let’s face it, most cheese is a good cheese.

What kind of cult would you like to start? One where you can sleep all day and no one will judge you.

What are some fun and interesting alternatives to war that countries could settle their differences with? Dodgeball – still has all violence without the body count.

What’s the funniest thing you’ve seen a kid do? Oh kids, they do the weirdest things! First thing that comes to mind is I was at a shopping centre near Coles, and a kid was running and then sliding along the ground (think Tom Cruise, Risky Business). One particular slide, he lost his footing, fell, and slid under a row of trollies. We laughed a lot. In fact, one of my friend, pointed and laughed at the child.

What’s the worst food you ever ate? Anchovies – I didn’t know what they were, so of course I just put it in my mouth, because, that’s what you do, right?

What is your spirit animal, and why? a cat – they have servants, not owners. They sleep 18 hours a day and have everything done for them.

Would you rather have skin that changes colour based on your emotions or tattoos appear all over your body depicting what you did yesterday? Probably skin that changes colour – it depends on what I did yesterday!

What is the funniest text you have ever gotten? Any text where Jules’ phone plays autocorrect. My fave is where she told me she has to go to work or she doesn’t get laid. Pretty rough if you ask me.

What will people say at your funeral? Falling over finally got her in the end.

If you met a genie who offered you three wishes, what would you wish for? no more cancer, world peace, and a bank account that never goes under $5000 (it just replenishes itself, no questions asked).

What makes you say, “what was I thinking?” when you look back on your life? The mullet I had. Who thought that was good idea?! Yes, it was the 80’s, but that thing was a bitch to grow out. No, I will not show you pictures.

So there you have it. Definitely some thoughts you didn’t ask for … Feel free to ask anything else.

A Moment Changes Everything

I literally just sat here staring at my screen wondering how to start this. It’s something that I have never talked about. Something that I have held on to for a rather long time. As I grow though, I need to let it out.

Camp Magic has taught me so many things. One of them is that everyone grieves differently, and each grief journey for each person you lose, can also be different. I talk openly about my horrible 2014 year where I lost my Uncle, my best friend and my Grandfather, all the time. This particular story though, not many at all know about. At least not all of it.

In August 2011 I lost a very good friend. It’s her birthday on the 27th so I always thing of her more around this time. She was a very private person, so on here I shall just call her J. I know she is not here with us anymore, but I still feel like I need to respect that. I met her in a band chat room. She lived in LA, and a group of us from all over the world, started meeting in that room most nights to talk. She was awesome. After chatting for over 3 years, I went on my first overseas trip. I went to Canada for a month, Alaska for month and then LA for month. I stayed with the people I knew from this chat room and it was amazing. J was my last stop. Her, along with her sister and her daughter picked me up from the airport, quick stop at their house to dump some stuff, and we drove to Vegas for a few days. We then came back and did all the touristy things like Disneyland, California Adventure Land, Universal Studios, and Mann’s Chinese Theatre. We even did the red carpet of the Screen Actors Guild awards!

We kept in touch after I went home, and years later she was diagnosed with cancer. She went through the usual treatments, and in one of the many emails that used to go back and forth, I mentioned that I was seeing a spiritual healer. It was something I was doing at the time to broaden my mind and help with a lot of things. She also healed sickness in people. Sceptic or not, this was true. I had proof. J asked if she could contact her and I said of course! Soon J and her daughter were coming to visit me so they could see her in person.

J’s cancer was aggressive and horrible. By the time she had been with us for a couple of weeks, she could feel the tumours getting smaller. When she went back to her doctor in LA, it was mostly gone. They couldn’t wrap their head around it, but the evidence was on the scan. She dreamt of not having to have a colostomy bag anymore, and of simple things like being able to wear jeans again.

Sooner or later though, it came back. With vengeance. It spread all through her tiny body and eventually, it won.

My guilt over her passing is something that I still carry to this day. J called me a week or two before it happened. She had messaged asking if we could talk, and I said that I was getting ready to go out, but I had like 15 mins if that was ok. So she rang. She told me about her last doctor’s trip, how they had told her that they really couldn’t do anymore, and that she should get her affairs in order. I really didn’t know what to say to that. What do you say to that? So me being me, I brushed it off and used humour. ‘They’re wrong! We’ll be wearing jeans together and walking down the street showing them soon!’. We hung up, and I went out, and that was that.

A week or two later, I got a phone call from my healer telling me that she had passed away. J’s sister had called her to tell her and asked if she could tell me. I still remember that moment vividly. I was at work. It was in the afternoon. I tried to keep it together so I could finish the day. I pushed that grief down because I didn’t know what to do with it. My co-worker asked me if I had a cold, and I told him no, ‘my friend just passed away’. He was all concerned and asking if I was ok and I told him to stop because I couldn’t go there right now. The next few days were a bit of a blur. I had a friend’s wedding and was so confused about how I could be having fun at this, when she had just died. Did that mean I didn’t care? Was it ok to be doing that? A few weeks later, it hit me. Like a brick. When she called me that last time, she was calling to say goodbye and I brushed it off because I had to go out. I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t thank her for being so wonderful. I didn’t tell her I loved her. I was just ‘hey, you’ve got 10 minutes, go!!’. It drove me to drink. A lot. Just to get rid of the feeling. I would drink until I passed out. I would drink so much that I would wake myself because I was vomiting. I didn’t handle it at all.

I think about that all the time. I carry it with me. It is something that I don’t feel like I can ever forgive myself for. I miss her so much. Her little voice that sounded like she was a child. Her love of telling me about bands she had seen recently. Our love of boy bands. I still have the last email she ever sent me. I can’t bring myself to erase it. I still have a scarf she made me and a Mickey Mouse poncho she bought me, because they all link back to her. Every time I listen to 5ive, she is in my head.

If I had the time over, I would tell her. I would tell her what she meant to me. This is the reason that I tell people I love them all the time. One of the reasons I am a hugger. I need my people to know that I love them, because I can’t have this happen again.

J – I love you. I miss you every day. You were an awesome part of my life and I am lucky to have known you.

Thank You

It’s so usual for people to cut each other down. It seems this is easier to do than mention the nice things we do for each other. Those things we keep to ourselves and bask in their warmth, but how often do we share them? Meanwhile someone runs into you (maybe accidentally, maybe not) while you’re reaching for the cereal in the supermarket, and we tell EVERYONE about it.

I am trying to be better with this. Those moments when you are out and see someone wearing a fabulous outfit, or notice someone’s nails at cashier desk (I know, girly). I try to speak about those moments instead of just thinking in my mind ‘oh, you look wonderful’. That person could be having the shittiest day, and you telling them that, might be what turns it around.

My parents are absolute gems. In the parent lottery, I won the jackpot. They do so many things for me, that sometimes I stop and think about it and it makes my head spin. My Dad is bascially rennovating my new home for me, to save me money. He takes my car and washes it, because he knows I work hard and my time is limited. My Mum will drop everything to get me something if I don’t have time. She will also listen to me complain about anything, time and time again. When I was sick last year and ended up in hospital, she sat with me so I wasn’t alone, and drove me to appointment after appointment when I got out, because she was afraid I wasn’t well enough. They look after my cat when I go away to camp. Not just feed him for me, but come over for hours so he has someone with him for a while. Absolute jackpot.

In saying all this, I heard the most wonderful story from my Dad over this past week, and it got me to thinking, what is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you? This story, actually made me teary … We always used to travel to Mudgee for Christmas. We usually had lunch with my Mum’s side of the family and then we would go to my Grandparent’s house (Dad’s side) in the afternoon or for dinner. One year when I was young, we had travelled up on Christmas Eve. My Grandparents had given Mum and Dad money to get my sister and I presents. When we got up there, Dad realised that they had forgotten to bring mine. Instead of disappointing me, he drove home, and back again that night while I was asleep, to get the present, so I would have it the next day when all the cousins were opening their presents together. That would have been at least 10 hours driving in one day. Dad said he couldn’t remember what the gift was, but when I opened it, I ran over to Grandma and gave her a big hug and told her it was the best present ever. Lucky. Imagine if I had hated it?

This is the type of person I want to be.

Challenge for the day – tell someone, stranger or not, something nice about them.

Hello Darlin’

This year will be 4 years since my horror year of 2014, where I lost three people I loved very much.

February is the anniversary of losing my Uncle Maxi. So in honour of him, I thought I would write a post. Maxi was larger than life and just plain wonderful. Sometimes, as I got older, he drove me mad with his country bumpkin outlook on life, but he had a beautiful soul and would bend over backwards to do anything for anyone.

When I was young, him and my Aunt, owned a farm outside of Mudgee in Appletree Flat. My Mum would take my sister and I up there on school holidays, where we would “help” on the farm. We’d get up early and help feed the cows (we had to hold on to the rails up the front of the trailer until it was safe for us to start pushing hay off the back). He’d take us on tractor rides, and motorbike rides. We’d pick veggies, and made him and my cousin promise they would not shoot any kangaroos while we were there. Of course they were a pest, but no one was harming Skippy on my watch. We spent most Christmas’ on that farm. Some of my favourite days, when all the family were together.FB_IMG_1517359402063[1]

As we got older, they moved into town, no longer able to look after a farm properly. That property is now owned by a winery. We still went up there a lot. He would try to push my buttons by telling me that he would love a job like mine as he’d get to sit around all day and do nothing. Or have racist conversations that always made me mad, but he would just laugh, because he knew he had done his job lol. In the end though, if I were going out, he would drop me somewhere and I could call him at 2am and he would always come get me. He was known everywhere in town. He called us all darlin’.

Eventually, he got sick. Cancer. That horrible son of a bitch disease that takes way to many away from us. I remember being told that there wasn’t long and I set off to Mudgee to see him before he left us. It was super hard to see someone so full of life, lie there in pain, but as we all went into the room, he wanted to hold our hands. So I sat there and held his hand, while the packed room talked amongst themselves. The next day I went back again and he was sleeping a lot. I sat in the room with my cousin (one of his sons) and my parents. While they chatted I just watched him. I remember the moment so clearly, when his bright blue eyes opened and he stared right at me and said ‘hello darlin’, I smiled and asked him how he was, stupid question really, but it didn’t matter because he had already fallen back asleep. I questioned for a moment on whether it had actually  happened.

Eventually I had to leave, and I said my goodbye. I cried most of the way home. The next morning he left us. He was an amazing human with a life full of stories. He was a husband, a father, a pop, an uncle and a brother.

To finish this, I want to give you some of my favourite memories. The man was wonderful, but he got his words confused all the time! It was hilarious, and we would laugh at him and he just wouldn’t care. I don’t know if he meant to do it to make us laugh, or whether he really just got things mixed up, but here are some faves and some memories I have –

  • One year for Christmas someone gave him and my Aunt a bug zapper to hang outside. He shouted ‘look Mum! A wog zapper!’
  • My Aunt had carpal tunnel – he told everyone she had tunnel vision.
  • One Christmas he said he went to the RPA (yes, I typed that correctly) to get his truck licence back, because he wanted to get a Willybago and go travelling.
  • Hmmm most of these seem to have a Christmas theme – I was staying at their place on Christmas Eve and at 2am I hear banging. Wondering what was going on, I went out to the living area to find him out on the patio, on a ladder, putting up some more Christmas lights. For the family. To see at lunch time. During the day. Lights for the day time.
  • My Aunt had a bunion on her foot. He told everyone she had bunyips on her foot.
  • He always said that he didn’t need a dishwasher, he married one, and he never needed sugar because he was sweet enough.
  • Then there is this one, my favourite of them all. My cousin’s kids (I also call them my cousins. Is that right? Are they first cousin’s once removed? Second cousin’s? No freaking idea), have a band. Once Maxi, and two of my Aunts were staying at our house and we were having dinner. Maxi was telling us about the band (totally beaming, he was always bragging about his grandkids), how they had a name but then got told that they should change it as another band had it. He then said, and I quote, ‘so now they are Blind Incest’. They weren’t. They are Blind Instinct. My Dad choked on his drink and I nearly spat out my food. He kept asking us what we were laughing at, and then we had to explain what incest was. My Aunt was mortified and asked how many people he had told that to.

He told silly stories, and laughed at his own jokes. He could fall asleep mid conversation, and snore like a demon. Then be awake all night because he had napped all day. We’d find lolly and icecream packets when we got up because he was snacking all night. He also ordered a lot of stuff from infomercials in the wee hours of the morning. He was weird, and wonderful, and he was ours. He laughed a lot and could dance like Fred Astaire. But most of all, he loved his family, and will never be forgotten.

When we held his funeral, there was no room left to move. The church was packed. It was always going to be that way.

We miss you every day Maxi.

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I’ve Got the Music In Me

I have issues. Don’t we all? I won’t go into those right now or we will be here all day. Plus, it gives me more to write about another day. For these issues, I do all sorts of things. I meditate, I see a psychologist, I’m medicated and I do workshops to help me do this thing called life. All of these things help in their own way, however there is one constant that is always there for me.

Music.

I am not musical in any way. Actually, that’s a lie. I can sing a bit. I’ve sung in the Opera House in the Combined Schools Choir. In high school I played the recorder like it was no one’s business. I own a guitar, but I have no idea how to play it. In school I had to cheat and write the notes on the music sheets so I knew what to play next. None of this matters, because music is in my bones.

I grew up listening to music. My Mum brought the rock and roll, with a bit of country thrown in (I still remember laughing hysterically at one of her albums that had a song on it called ‘The Black Crow Flying Backwards To Keep the Dust Out of It’s Eyes’). My Dad brought the jazz. Bing Crosby, Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis, Duke Ellington. Music was always on in our house.

When I was younger I would shut the doors to the lounge room, turn on the John Farnham – Whispering Jack album, and pretend I was part of the Young Talent Time team. I’d sing as loud as I could and make up dances. Then yell at my sister who was peaking through the sliding doors and laughing at me.

Not only did we have music playing in our house, but our neighbour was in a band and they rehearsed in his garage. I would sit out in the garden and listen to them play. Sometimes we would shout requests and they would oblige. We would then run away giggling because, to us, they were big rockstars and we were just the little girls next door. That neighbour, bought me my first cassette. Dire Straits – Brothers in Arms. I was 9. I am still obsessed with Money for Nothing and Romeo and Juliet.

I’ve got to admit, I’m a rock girl, with a bit of pop on the side, but I will listen to almost anything. I’m not really an R’n’B fan or really heavy metal fan, but I’ll have a go. I believe there is a song for every occasion. Music can take you back to good times, soothe you when you are sad, remind you of someone or some thing, and calm you down when you are angry. For those paying real attention, even each of my blogs are named after a song.

My favourite place in the world is when I am at a live gig. I don’t have to think about anything for at least an hour, or if I am lucky, three hours. I can feel the beat go through my feet and up into my body. I can sing my lungs out and it doesn’t matter, because the person next to me is doing the same thing. I can jump around, sway, even cry. It’s like nothing else exists during that time. One of my favourite feelings is when I am at a show waiting for the band to come out. The lights go out and there is a big roar from the audience. It’s starting. That few seconds of energy is the best thing ever. It makes my spine tingle and gives me goosebumps.

I have 7 shows so far this year, waiting for me. It’s only the beginning.

Music is my drug of choice.

Me Too

On Saturday night I went to go and see Hannah Gadsby’s ‘Nanette’ at the Sydney Opera House. I have loved Hannah for a long time. I watched her when she was on tv with Adam Hills, and I adored her on Please Like Me. I had wanted to see her for a while, but it never worked out. Nanette had its run and I didn’t get to see it. I was sad because it won best show at the Edinburgh Comedy Festival and at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. I saw so many people praising it and wondered what they were talking about. When she decided to do two more shows, I jumped on it.

The show made me laugh, but more importantly, it broke my heart. Weird thing to say about a comedy show, I know. Hannah is a comedian. I expected to laugh. It started off that way. She told a story of how she was once at a bus stop after a night out when she was 17. She was talking (hitting on) a girl whose boyfriend was drunk, and came over telling her to stay away from his girlfriend ‘fucking faggot’, and threatened to hit her, not realizing she was actually female. When his girlfriend told him to calm down and that she was a girl, she said he apologized and starting saying ‘sorry, I don’t hit girls’. She said ‘how bout you don’t hit anyone at all?’ and we all chuckled.

Later on she talked about how she needed to quit comedy. That in order to write jokes she had to be self deprecating and couldn’t do that to herself anymore. That she needed to tell her story as it happened, and not in a funny way. Because it wasn’t funny. She spoke on how she was the master of tension. That joke telling was building tension, then bringing in a punch line to relieve it, and that is why people laugh.

She then brought us back to that story about the guy at the bus stop, and said she needed to tell her story properly. How that guy really didn’t say that he didn’t hit girls, but what really happened, is her 17 year old self was brutally beaten for being gay. How she should have taken herself to hospital but she was too ashamed. How she was sexually assaulted when she was younger, but didn’t speak up again, because she was ashamed. Then she let us sit there with that tension. No relief. I cried. My heart hurt for her. It still does.

I had to drive home in silence because I couldn’t actually have anything else going into my mind at that time. I still feel that tension. It makes me fucking mad. Not that she gave it to me, but that it happened to her.

That show was recorded for Netflix. When it comes on, I encourage EVERYONE to watch it. It is so important. So brilliant. If I ever am lucky enough to see Hannah, I will tell her I heard her.

Lately, there hasn’t been a day go by where someone, usually a woman, is coming forward saying she was sexually harassed or assaulted by someone. While this has always been happening, it has now truly come into the light after the accusations against Harvey Weinstein began.

Late last year, people around the world were encouraged to put the hashtag #metoo on some form of social media they had, to show what a widespread problem this is. I don’t care if you are male, female or any other title you identify with, sexual harassment or assault is never ok. Never. People make excuses, ‘oh that’s just the way they are’ or ‘they were drunk’. Even ‘it’s a cultural thing’. No. They are excuses to remove the guilt and wrong doing.

Unfortunately, I can write #metoo. I haven’t really spoken about it in the past, mainly because I dealt with it and moved on. My stories, yes plural, are certainly far from the worst I have heard, yet while this movement is happening, I feel like I should share them. I honestly believe that sometimes the people doing these things, don’t realize how they are making the other person feel, and sometimes it’s just blatant assault. So if I can help someone speak out, or help someone realize their ways might be wrong, then I will do it.

In one of my earlier jobs, we had a big meeting for two days about plans for certain projects, and then on the second day, our boss had planned to take us all out to dinner afterwards. The place I worked at was male dominated and I had only been there two weeks when this took place. Dinner was great. It was a good opportunity to get to know people outside the work place. Then we went to a pub. The drinks were flowing, people were dancing and talking, and one of the guys grabbed my hand and took me out the front. Other guys were already out there smoking and saw that happen and started making all these lewd comments. I didn’t really know what was happening, I’d just gone with it, because honestly, in my head, I never expected what was about to happen, and I was new. I wanted to be cool. He leaned in and whispered in my ear ‘I want to take you over to that dark park and fuck you’. Was he drunk? Yep. Did he mean it? Yep. He was also married with a new born child, and apparently, ‘this is just how he is’. I don’t know exactly what I said next, but it was a fair amount of swearing, him trying to calm me down and me then getting free from his grip and speed walking away. Pretty sure he was terrified I was about to tell someone what he had done. Around the corner were a manager of mine and my friend who had helped me get the job. I burst into tears and they took me back up to our building and we hung out for a bit, while I calmed down. Then I went back to one of the rooms the boss had booked for us, and tried to sleep. The guy was forced to apologise to me on Monday, although he didn’t really remember what he had done, and that was the last I heard of it. I never forgot it though.

At a festival at Moore Park, watching one of my favourite bands, Linkin Park, a guy behind me thought it was ok to keep grabbing my ass, or putting his hand between my legs, while we were standing there. At first I just thought, ‘I’m at a concert, people are constantly running into each other’, but no matter how many times I batted him away, he kept going. Eventually I turned around and grabbed his had and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. A girl next to me asked me if he had been touching me, because he had been doing the same to her. A couple of guys around us started sticking up for us and he crept away. I am sure he just went to find someone else to prey on.

At another live show at the Enmore Theatre watching the Living End, a drunk guy that could barely stand decided I would be a good person to talk to while we waited for the band to come on. His face was right in mine while he slurred something at me and before I knew it, his hand was up my shirt. I shoved him out of the way and he fell. I moved myself near security guards so I felt safer. Sure, he was absolutely hammered and probably had no idea what was happening. Is it an excuse? Hell no.

I may have gotten apologies, or gotten away from the harassment and had a good night. I’m not that girl that will march down a street with banners, chanting demands. I also don’t believe in a witch hunt. I will however not condone anyone harassing or assaulting ANYONE. I want to be able to go out and not worry that someone feels like they might have the right to make me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Whether that be at work, at home, or while I am out. I might be quiet, but I will speak or act out when I need to.

Time’s Up #metoo

If this post has brought up any issues for you, you can contact https://au.reachout.com/articles/sexual-assault-support