That’s me in the corner. That’s me in the spotlight losing my…

Ah, I ‘lost’ any religion I may have had years ago. Seems I am now losing my family, too.

The very last thing I imagined when I started this blog was that it would turn into some misery memoire – little did I know the surprising turns life would take.

So, my family have accused me of lying. Of it all being in my imagination. My father refuses to discuss it, says it didn’t happen. Says the doctors don’t know what they are talking about. I think if he really believed that, he’d have gone to the mosque when he nearly died a couple of years ago, instead of the hospital. He doesn’t go to the sheikh when he gets sick, he goes to the doctor.

This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of lying. Many, many moons ago, when in my first (arranged) marriage I called him to ask him to tell my husband of the time not to rape me – he accused me of lying then. He said no, that’s not rape, you are lying. It’s not rape if he is your husband, you should not say no to your husband – it is his right. A teeny bit of me died that day hearing that inhuman response, and a teeny bit of me has died again being accused of lying now.

My family think I’ve brought this up to tear them apart. No. I just wanted them to care about it, rather stupidly of me. I just wanted some support, some empathy, some love. I keep forgetting what blind faith in dogma can do to a person. That denial and accusation is preferable to dealing with the unwanted truths and realities that are part & parcel of religion. How sad. My own sister has turned on me, I never knew she had that inhuman side to her. She has two daughters of her own. I may never see them again. I’m so heartbroken by that. But not broken. Sad and pained, but not broken. They can’t break me, I know I’m right. I know I’m going to do something to stop other girls going through cruel inhumanity. And that makes me stronger than anything that they can be. I don’t need a book to tell me what’s right or wrong.

I have friends and I think they love me. So, am lucky. And I’m going to do the right thing and that will give me more strength than they and those that condone mutilation could ever imagine or take away from me.

Even if I am having a weepy-feel sorry for myself kind of day. Inside I feel freeer, it’ll just take a while for it to manifest in my mood.

Ups and Downs

It’s been awhile. What awhile. 

I hope my readers have had a good start to the year. My good start was a little delayed, due to the boob incident, the burglary, a bungling-drunken-meltdown and Boy-related mortification, and other things beginning with B, mostly the Blues. But… all things pass… the end of my world was not nigh, as I’d catastrophised. I’d even written my will (leaving it all to the cats, sisters & nieces/nephews).

Sometimes, all a girl needs when the world is caving in is some hiding time, so I hibernated in the cat-cave, and licked my wounds for a bit. My true friends gave me my space, but came to the cat-cave to commiserate (& watch sci-fi with me, and feed me chocolate). I suppose it sometimes takes a shock to the system like your potential impending demise to make you contemplate your life with a new perspective, but it’s taken awhile to sink in. The drunken meltdown I had (which, thankfully I don’t remember), I let it all out, the stuff that had been bothering me, I think it was my subconscious telling me to stop pretending that everything was ok, when it wasn’t. I’ve never been very good at that, it is a saving grace of mine. Cognitive dissonance is the worst thing in the world for me. It was reassuring to let myself be grumpy, and funnily enough, it’s why I’m back to being my normal cheery self. So, time to start tackling this year head-on. Get this degree out of the way, get laid more, get on with it all. But first, a glass of wine


It’s strange that in the history of humans, it’s women that have in many traditions, been cast as the succubus. In Roman & Athenian times, women were considered dangerous because during sex, they would suck the life-energy of the man. This kind of idea has been repeated through history and in various manifestations, from vagina dentata (if you don’t know what that is, google it, but not at work!) through succubus, to sirens and vampires. I wonder why we’ve been unfairly cast as such? 

It’s strange because I’m so tired & lack energy and inspiration to write, and that is because I’ve been playing with The Boy (who I’ll write about when I’ve got more energy). It’s strange, because, on the whole, when I think back, most of the men I’ve been with have been invigorated. These are some of the thoughts going through my mind as I try to sleep.