Just the Words Will Do: A Short Story

The room was rich with blackness and, as the velvety dark enveloped her, she knew it was a mistake. Half cut on gin and grief, she thought perhaps she could sneak in unnoticed – or better, noticed and wanted. Instead, she lay on the rock hard mattress as though afloat on the huge, reckoning ocean, the messages arriving on her phone lighting up the ceiling where the stars should have been. In the next room, she could hear him breathing. Huge lungs that inflated his white back as she nestled behind him, her face pressed into the comforting scent of his spine. Perhaps she’d never feel as safe again as she did pressed into that boy’s back, listening to the heaving sighs become the gurgle of a snore. Continue reading

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Emotional Labour, and Why I Felt Weirdly Relieved When He Left

I have been thinking a lot recently about emotional labour, and the disproportional amount of it that women do in relationships. At this point, you might wrinkle your nose and dismiss this blog post as more shit that feminists have made up to be angry about now they’ve got the vote thing sorted, but bear with me here. I was recently dumped by a man that I was desperately, insanely in love with and now that he’s left, along with the debilitating heartbreak, I’ve found that I have an odd sense relief. Considering that he told me he didn’t want to cook and clean the flat whilst he was unemployed because he “felt like a maid”, you can imagine that in terms of gender roles, he wasn’t the most modern in his ideas. But it isn’t this total inability to help around the house that I feel freed from, it’s the absolute exhaustion of the amount of emotional labour I did in our relationship. Continue reading