That’s what she said

There’s another feminist bookshop in the neighborhood with lots of contemporary English originals! It was so crowded before Christmas that I never got to go inside and dwell on paradise for a while; then the lockdown was announced and we went back to stricter social distancing. But I was lucky enough to still get a couple of its books, aka illuminated gifts from my partner. Now that I have applied for the December allowance due to Covid-19 and I lay in bed guilty conscience free with them new books, together with the cat, coffee and a hot water bottle, at 3 pm, I confess that I couldn’t ask for more (except maybe for additional daylight time). I haven’t had no official job for most of the time this year, but it certainly has been a kind of work, to keep me grounded. In fact, I am starting to think that this process was much more necessary to me than I could have ever perceived, had my regular jobs and general engagement with work ties not been cancelled.

I wish that more men - and women - would finally rejoice in the realization that feminism is still absolutely crucial for everyone who wants to break free from ancestral archetypes and constellations that perpetuate human misery only...

... and I so wish that Lisbon would have been more welcoming of real equality when I was growing up, so that I wouldn’t have to feel so alone and angry for so long, reading mainly male authors and learning how to hide my sexuality, while having body parts constantly commented by adults, specifically female family members. I am still most grateful to Anaïs Nin and Marguerite Duras for the suspicion that there was nothing to be ashamed of. I so wish that the majority of people of my generation in Portugal would be already committed with the idea that being street harassed, having to economically depend on a family structure or questioning women about their lack of children is really not acceptable. Not to mention several other civilizational backwardnesses regarding patriarchy still preventing all people from thriving (and even other living beings), also in the north western part of the planet. Because I strongly believe that the world would look much healthier now if more women had felt differently about themselves and each other for the past half century or so. 

“ (...) An idea presented itself, came my way, perhaps hatched from a grief, but I did not know if it would survive my free-floating attention, never mind my more focused attention. To unfold any number of ideas through all the dimensions of time is the great adventure of the writing life.” 

In 4. Living in Yellow, pp 40-41