This isn’t the pre-Eroticon blog post on valuing my voice that I planned to write – though I’m absolutely still going to write that one too. This blog post is inspired by the music I’m listening to right now, on a train heading to London. It’s music that makes me want to sing, and fighting the urge to is hard even though I know that singing on trains is socially unacceptable. I also want to add a content warning specifically for my Scottish boy – please stop reading now my friend.
Category: Personal essays
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Valuing my voice: singing loudly
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Why I’m not smiling for International Women’s Day

Photo of my IDW purchase from a queer, inclusive bookshop. Today, 8th March, is International Women’s Day. This means I can claim that deviating from my usual blogging schedule of posting new content every Thursday was intentional, because I wanted to share something on the topic of #IWD2019. And while it wasn’t intentional, I do have something to say.
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I want to hold your hand

Image licensed through Adobe. Once again I’m playing the game where I mess around with Molly Moore’s sex blogging memes, because I feel if I don’t write this post now then I might never. The current kink that we’re all dissecting is hands, because hands are ridiculously hot. And I am going to talk about hands, but more precisely why I want to hold your hand.
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Heartbeat of hope

Image licensed through Adobe. This post didn’t exactly go where I thought it would, but I decided to be brave and share it anyway. When tweeting while drafting it earlier in the week, I advertised this post as about ‘feminism, relationships, and that god-awful heartbeat of hope that makes me writhe in shame’ but that’s no longer quite true.
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Dripping red for period sex

Image sourced through Pixabay. Today I wore a sanitary pad in my knickers because I thought my period was going to arrive. At the time of publishing this blog post, it still hasn’t done so, but I have been thinking a lot about period sex. Is it fair to say that I have a dysfunctional relationship with my menstrual cycle. I definitely am not always on speaking terms with my vagina, but I can deal with my periods – just about.
