While pissing, we warmly appreciate washroom graffiti as if it were a sign from a higher power trying to drop us a hint about something.
I’m too fat. My nose is crooked. Ears too big. Hips too wide. Arms too long. Body too lanky. Head too small. I feel stumpy. I’m not strong enough. I’m too weak. I need to be taller. I’m too short. No, I’m too tall. Zero confidence.
My new life was destined to be full of calorie tracking and high heels. Cocktails and coffee mugs. Car insurance and a live-in boyfriend.
There is no allotted space for men. They are unhampered and entitled to go where they please, and do as such. But what if that wasn’t the natural order?
“NO ONE needs baby face cloths. There is actually no difference between a regular face cloth and a baby one. “
I can honestly say nothing has hurt me as much or made me feel as absolutely helpless as I felt those long nights in grade 10.