By Evi Tsakali,
Sisterhood
On a random Saturday in Paris over dinner with my girlfriends, we realized how we had had enough of the casual, formulated in a way that they seem barely there, sexist comments. All three of us were going through a tough period and comments like “Three years here and only one of you has been in a relationship?”, and “what were you wearing?” (each one of us has lost count of how many times she has been catcalled/followed/verbally harassed in Parisian public transportation and then got asked this question) and “you have to smile more/you have to be bold” (that one because I insistently refused to engage in further conversation with a stranger) did not help really. This is how the idea of “The misogyny you give, as experienced by the good girls” was born; that Saturday evening, we poured our hearts out, let out many elements of casual sexism that bothered us, sometimes perpetuated even by the men in our lives, and compiled them in a bold (yes, that was intentional too) text. Sadly, though, this text is probably my most self-censored article, because the most serious stuff (in a case involving the French police) was not to be written out of hesitancy of making some things public… One thing, however, is clear; feminism never killed anyone, but machismo does.
Tell them that I didn’t eat the lotus
I constantly tell my friends (and myself even) that it is okay to have your heart broken, because this way, at least you know you have one. Even though it is a hard to swallow pill, it is preferable to embrace your vulnerability and the depth of your emotions than eat the lotus and forget. This is what my friend did, offering us a heartwarming interview (split in two parts) for last year’s Pride month, one of the realest takes on what it means to be a gay man nowadays, falling in and out of love. Those articles made me incredibly happy, not only because I offered a platform and a voice to someone who deserves it big time and who has a lot to say, but also because of the messages that we received, by people telling us how they could relate (and this is probably my favorite reason to write).
Remaining on the same topic, it was with him that we had the “love is for free” debate which would give birth to the “Capitalist tale of falling in love” (that time it was probably me that embraced my vulnerability the most). I had some things to get off my chest as well (I still do, and the College of Europe was proven the best place to help), and the cherry on the cake that actually made me write it was a deep conversation with a colleague of mine during a campus party when we had gone out for a bit to get some fresh air. We were discussing this bittersweet feeling of being in a good place, of enjoying privileges but remaining with the what ifs; of (and this wine/vodka-induced formulation still stays with me) being really happy, not because of something, but despite of something. That was when I excused myself and said I would call it a night, and literally rushed to my dorm; to everyone in the way who was asking me where I was going or if I wanted to stay for an extra round of drinks or a late-night order I was just replying “I have to write” (low key crazy, I know).
It is for moments like this that I incite you to write, dear reader
Because writing sets you free, it is you and your words against the world. Don’t restrain your expression out of fear of the aftermath and critique; in matters of feeling and of the heart, too much is always better than too little. Writing sometimes is underrated as a form of art and expression because it may feel like screaming into the void; but I assure you, there is always a recipient…
As you may have noticed, I was saving it for the post scriptum
And as someone told me, it’s not a goodbye, but an à bientôt
