Walk All Over Cancer

/in , /by

With spring just about here, it’s a great time to put your trainers on, stretch your legs and banish those winter blues. Cancer Research UK are encouraging us to “Show cancer who’s boss and join thousands of people across the world walking 10,000 steps every day in March to raise money for life-saving research.”

Our New Year’s resolutions may seem like a distant memory now, so a step challenge could be just what the doctor ordered. It can help us build up those good habits again and get out exploring our local area in (hopefully) some nice spring weather.

Cancer Research’s Walk All Over Cancer challenge could be just the thing to help motivate you to get those steps in and get outside for some fresh air and exercise. And raising money for such a worthy cause will give you an added boost of some feel-good factor too!

I think it’s pretty obvious from my phone screenshot that I, for one, need an extra push of motivation to make sure I leave the house every day… (shaking head emoji).

Walking can also have loads of health benefits – helping to boost your mental wellbeing, as well as your physical health. It can also improve your overall fitness, not to mention the endorphins released after exercise will leave you feeling great for the rest of the day. And in these strange times, it’s the perfect socially distanced activity too!

So why not sign-up and get your friends and family involved – maybe even get a bit of friendly competition going to keep things interesting? It could be for the greatest number of steps or the most money raised – check out Cancer Research’s dedicated fundraising site for some really good ideas.

Don’t worry if your phone doesn’t have a step counter already, there are loads of apps you can download to track your progress, including the NHS’s Active 10 app. You can sign-up here and let us know if you’re taking part by sharing your fundraising links in the comments below. Happy striding!

I just want to go to Soho on a Monday morning

/in , /by

Before Miss Coronavirus embarked on an extensive world tour that would give even Cher a run for her money, my absolute favourite pastime was going to Soho on a Monday morning.

I’ve said this a few times by now to different people, and each time I’m met with a ‘Why Monday? Monday’s are the worst’ kind of look. Well, Mondays are actually the best.

If you get on the 14 bus around 10am, it’ll take you straight into Piccadilly once the morning commute has passed its peak. You can then slink off the bus and immediately get lost in the tiny side streets between China Town, Piccadilly and Soho. If you go in spring, the mornings are dewy, fresh and bright meaning it’s the perfect weather to sit in Golden Square and have an Oat cappuccino from the Veggie Pret on the corner dahhling.

I used to stop in at Fiorucci, browsing completely uninterrupted which made me feel like a celebrity, especially when the staff learned my name. If I wasn’t doing that, I’d peruse Good News Soho and buy one of their outrageous fashion and music magazines, or thumb through the records at Sister Ray and Reckless Records on Berwick Street.

The reason I’m telling you this is because it makes my soul so unbelievably happy.

I moved to London in the hopes of finding somewhere like Soho where I’d feel connected to the queer community. Historically, London has always embodied the queer spirit – from accommodating the Gateways Club (the world’s longest running lesbian nightclub -1936 to 1985) to the Blitz Kids in Covent Garden co-hosted by Steve Strange and Rusty Egan from 1979/80, and a whole lot more. London feels like the queer homecoming I’d always dreamed of. For me, a queer kid who grew up in the countryside, the capital represented the soul of gay liberation, and I wasn’t wrong by any stretch, but I was definitely wearing my rose-tinted glasses.

I’m still haunted by my first threatening homophobic encounter in London. In my experience, in the countryside it never got to a place of violence. You’d be called various names, bullied, maybe shoved, but it never got to a place where you’d be scared for your life. That doesn’t mean to say it can’t happen – hateful acts of ignorance can happen anywhere.

That very first time, I was thankfully with one of my best friends Sue, a trans girl from Derby, and another cis girlfriend whom we’d met at uni. I won’t go into details about the event, but we quickly found ourselves in a highly threatening situation in a very public space outnumbered by a group of guys. I’ve turned this over and over in my head for the three years since it happened, and two things stay firmly planted in my mind.

Number one – although it was probably mine and Sue’s obvious flamboyance that caught the lads attention, our girlfriend who had been with us was equally ‘in trouble.’ It made me realise that if these ignorant homophobes had no respect for queers, they most certainly didn’t have any respect for women either. In that moment I saw firsthand the solidarity between women and queer folk – shared experiences of belittling and terror that both parties have, out of necessity, become accustomed to. I am so grateful for the woman in my life, they have given me strength, inspiration and motivation to be the person I am today. Many women share our queer spirit and for that they are forever a part of our community.

Number two – as I previously mentioned, this was a VERY public place. Not one person who witnessed our encounter with the boys bat an eye. Not one of the many adults in the vicinity came to help or defend three 18 year olds in immediate danger. We were kids back then. It still makes me exhale heavily – I was so disappointed and disillusioned. Those rose-tinted glasses cracked that day.

I realise now these experiences have placed a hot pink fire in my soul which has ultimately made me embrace my queerness and non-binary identity louder and prouder than ever. The queer spirit is made of hardy stuff. It’s not to be underestimated.

As an ally what can you do?

First of all, to address the big rainbow elephant issue in this post. You don’t have to be superman and fly in and save the day when you see queer folk in danger. You could end up putting yourself and others in danger too. However, you have a responsibility as an ally to alert the authorities or step in if the situation can be managed without police enforcement. We still need support.

On a lighter note.

When the lockdown on our lives has finally been lifted, go to Soho on a Monday morning and soak up the queer energy the place has to offer. Go a few streets down and visit the plaque on Heddon Street where Bowie shot the cover for his infamous 1972 Ziggy Stardust album. Or travel a little further towards Warren Street and visit Gay’s The Word, an original LGBTQIA+ bookshop which has been standing strong in all its pride since 1979. Not to sound like an overplayed airlines advert, but you should really experience queer culture first hand, there’s nothing quite like it.

 

 

Becoming a better ally – I’m still learning too

/in , /by

My son told me he was gay on the platform of Fulham Broadway while we were waiting for a tube into Central London.

There wasn’t any big lead up to his coming out. I wasn’t expecting it right there and then but I’d been anticipating the conversation for most of his life.

I often think back to that moment and remember the gentle sway of conversation – our usual back and forth, laughing, comfortable – probably a bit banal. In retrospect I wonder if that’s why he choose that exact point – because we were entirely at ease and maybe he thought things would never be quite the same again.

For me though, his quiet admission didn’t disrupt anything at all. It settled that final piece of my knowledge of him with a small, satisfying click. I was surprised to hear him ask me if it would change anything between us . . . “How could it?” I said – “I love you – I’ve always known.”

Showing up

I’m painfully aware this isn’t every queer person’s experience of coming out to their family. And it certainly wasn’t without challenge, prejudice and homophobia from the males in our own family. But like the ally I’d learned to be over the course of his childhood, I stood up, stepped in and spoke out.

Being an ally can be in equal parts easy and difficult. Throw into the mix being a parent too and you can imagine the confrontational situations you suddenly find yourself in. Staring unflinchingly into the eyes of complete strangers who openly laugh at your child. Questioning what right those groups of adolescents have to threaten and insult him. Challenging your close friends and family members to address their unconscious bias and re-educate themselves.

It’s not about you

The complicated conversations with people you’d just assumed would be gay ok are difficult, let alone living with a constant undercurrent of homophobic violence, and fear for your queer people’s safety. I’ve had to learn to live with both and they cause me a great deal of anxiety. Of course it’s nothing compared to what LGBTQIA+ people are exposed to and have to navigate every day.

Being a true ally isn’t easy when you’re afraid. I once made the mistake of asking my son to consider wearing a hat to cover up his bright pink buzzcut, and swap his skirt and platforms for something that would attract less attention on his commute through London. He refused of course, explaining to me that his queerness was in the way he walked, talked and everything about him, transcending more than just his outward appearance. I’ve never asked him to change himself to suit other people since.

Start with love

The easy part has always been from a personal perspective – understanding and developing my own relationship with the queer folk in my life. Whether that’s been celebrating with friends as they committed to each other in a civil partnership before gay marriage was even legalised, or providing a safe haven so my kids could grow into their best authentic selves (read: supporting my son’s choice to wear cherry-red Mary Janes at nursery and painting his toenails sparkling silver every summer, although I do reserve the right to stop him talking about Mariah Carey on every. Single. Facetime call . . .)

First steps

This is what I’ve learned on my own personal journey to becoming a better ally. Of course, I can’t speak for everyone and I’m definitely still learning!

Accept and support – unconditionally. Acceptance starts at home and the little things on a daily basis will make all the difference to your queer family – be mindful of your language, be inclusive and non-judgemental.

Defend and protect – while I don’t advocate putting yourself in danger, defending your queer folk against homophobic insult and attack is vital – they need to know you’re on their side!

Question and challenge – try to become aware of unconscious bias and challenge it. No-one wants a belligerent person making accusatory comments so make sure you know what you’re talking about and always educate with kindness.

Educate yourself – if you don’t know the right terms for things or the pronouns your queer folk have chosen – ask! If your questions come from a place of respect and love they won’t mind you asking.

Bear in mind just because you know one queer person, doesn’t necessarily mean you have an understanding of the whole community. Listen to podcasts, familiarise yourself with important gay history such as Stonewall and the Gay Liberation Front and keep up to date with current news concerning LGBTQIA+ issues like the Black Trans Lives Matter protests as part of the Black Lives Matter movement.

And finally…

Support where you can

Read more and get involved

These are some of my current favourites

Listen and watch

“Category is: Body ody ody”

/in , /by

Close your eyes and imagine this: I’m sitting in the Chelsea branch of Gail’s on a crisp winter morning writing this blog post on my MacBook. I have a skinny oat latte and a banana, because although the pastries look delicious, they’re not gluten free and I bloat at even the sight of wheat. I’m wearing a skinny jersey turtleneck and my Fiorucci Tara jeans cinched in at my tiny waist to emphasise just how much weight I’ve lost.

Girl. As if.

In reality, I’m crunched up on my bed looking down past my triple chin at my six year old HP laptop that took 30 minutes to turn on. I’ve eaten half a packet of biscuits with my morning ‘value’ filter coffee, and I’m in my pants and my favourite Oxfam bargain cardigan.

And just for the record, EVEN in my fantasy, I couldn’t resist a Gail’s pastry. They’re just too good.

We all have a fantasy, but they’re fickle, often equal parts aspirational and destructive. We need to manage our expectations.

Something I find so deeply problematic in the LGBTQIA+ community is the persistent need to categorise, label and define, particularly when it comes to our bodies. For a community that’s ‘all accepting,’ we can be anything but. Some of our queer specific dating apps are designed to make us ultimately isolate one another. They promote internalised homophobia, transphobia, racism and body shaming. I’ve come across profiles that say ‘No Fats, No Femmes, No Blacks and No Asians.’ It’s disgusting, do we really hate ourselves that much?

The ‘Tribes’ that these apps promote facilitate and spawn further notions of self-loathing. Twinks, Jocks, Bears, Otters, Femmes… to name a few, are categories that define aspects of our physicality. For example, if you’re a twink, you’re typically skinny, blonde and shaved head to toe. If you’re a bear, you’re muscular, brunette and hairy head to toe. I could go on.

For me as a non-binary (he/his/they/them) individual I often feel that I don’t fit into any category, and quite frankly I don’t want to. In saying this, you sometimes can’t help but let the small minded people that operate within these suffocating tribes get the best of you.

There have been times where I’ve tried to ‘masc it up’ to try and hide my natural flamboyance and femininity. I tried to grow out my facial hair in an effort to fit in with the Bears and Otters. I’ve dressed subtle on first dates to appear less… gay? It doesn’t make sense and only leads to dizzying feelings of dysphoria.

Feeling dysphoric about our bodies is not breaking news by any stretch, and it doesn’t just apply to the LGBTQIA+ community. There are often many similarities in the way that queer men and cis women view their bodies for example. However, although us gays, girlies and our bodies are important, there needs to be more love, attention and support for trans bodies.

For decades now, trans folk and their bodies have been misunderstood, ridiculed and alienated. In 2020 and 2021 this is a bigger issue than ever.

Last year The Trevor Project, a non-profit organisation who specialise in suicide prevention among the LGBTQIA+ community, reported that 60% of young trans and non-binary individuals engage in self harm, and 40% of those surveyed seriously contemplated ending their own lives. Imagine then throughout history, how many undocumented transgender and gender non-conforming people we’ve lost. It’s harrowing.

In 2021 as the pandemic continues, this may prove harder than usual for trans youth as many will be isolated from their community, safe places and support systems. Home isn’t always a safe place either when there is still so much misinformation and misunderstanding surrounding transgender bodies.

As an ally, what can you do to help?

Do your research. Educate yourself. Donate.

Listen to podcasts like ‘NB: My Non-Binary Life’ by the BBC. Check out the Mermaids UK organization for their amazing charity work for trans and non-binary youth. Google Munroe Bergdorf and read about her story.

Check yourself too. The thing I hate hearing THE MOST when people are referring to my trans brothers and sisters is: ‘Oh, they’re a man but really they’re a woman’ and vice versa. Or ‘I would’ve never thought they were a guy before! They’re so feminine.’ This kind of attitude towards the trans community is super disruptive and leads to more feelings of dysphoria. Treat trans people with respect. I can’t speak for the entirety of the trans community, but they don’t need your validation on whether or not they’re ‘passing.’

If you’re unsure how a trans or non-binary person identifies, you can politely ask them, just make sure it’s in a private and non-threatening tone and environment. In addition, if you accidentally use the wrong pronouns (yes, especially if it’s in a group setting) immediately correct yourself and correct others too.

Yours sincerely, a non-binary badass.

It’s time to talk about mental health

/in , /by

Many of us are finding things a little harder to deal with right now and one thing we can all take from the pandemic is just how seriously we need to consider mental health issues. Too long considered a taboo subject, mental health awareness is becoming more apparent than ever.

According to research carried out by the Mental Health Foundation, “Key indicators of distress among UK adults – including loneliness, suicidality and not coping well with stress – are worse now than at the start of the pandemic”.

Whether you’ve suffered with mental health issues or not, we can’t ignore the impact they’re having on so many of us anymore.

Prince William, a well-known advocate for raising the awareness of mental health, filmed a BBC documentary following his campaign to get men talking, in which former professional footballer Marvin Sordell speaks about his battle with depression and how he struggled to overcome this, culminating in trying to take his own life.

Fearne Cotton, now an ambassador for Mind, first publicly spoke of her depression in 2017. She has gone on to publish several mental health books, launched a podcast and set up a virtual mental health festival. She’s also a dedicated supporter of Time to Talk Day and other major campaigns.

Matt Haig’s book, Reasons to stay alive, details his own story of dealing with crisis, illness and learning to live again. He talks about his own experience with depression and ways of dealing with it.

The popular Netflix series 13 Reason Why, ITV’s Britain Get Talking campaign, the lyrics to Don Diablo’s Kill Me Better, the list could go on… mental health is the message people want to highlight right now.

The recurring theme throughout is how important it is to talk openly about mental health, but with 60% of those with a mental health problem waiting over a year to tell the people closest to them about it, is enough being done?

Time to change is raising awareness of mental health and want to ensure everyone can access help and support when they need it. As part of their ongoing work they’ve been running Time to Talk Day since 2014, to get us talking and changing lives. Taking place on Thursday 4 February, they encourage us all to be a part of it to help end mental health discrimination.

We might not be able to talk face to face at the moment, but it doesn’t mean we can’t all make a difference. Time to change will be holding a first ever virtual festival, consisting of a day of online activities you can join from home. The festival will cover the serious matters of talking about mental health, but also some more light hearted activities, cooking, yoga, Bollywood dancing – there’s something for everyone.

Maybe you’re looking to learn about mental health and how to help someone cope? Time to Change shares tips on how to talk about mental health, along with regular local events you can get involved in.  Taking just a few minutes out of your day could change someone else’s.

If you’re worried about your own, or someone else’s mental health, it’s important to remember you’re not alone. Visit the Time to Change website for organisations who can support you.

“A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference.” – Eeyore, A.A. Milne.