A Little Bit Of Sunshine

Every little girl remembers her very first Barbie doll. Be it a princess, a model...the rules were : Blonde, slim, blue-eyed. Everything you're not, packaged and available in stores near you. Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with the colour pink and discussing the importance of shoes. But note: Ever seen a Barbie rocking a lab coat? A graduation tassel? If we want to find the root of female inferiority, pointing at males isn't going to solve anything. Instead, there's a blue-eyed culprit plotting from within your daughter's toy box. For years she's poisoned little girls into thinking her beauty is the benchmark of perfection, we are only to be seen and desired, that girls are to focus on their hair, their nails, their bodies and clothes. I mean, sure. Why not? Let the boys do the heavy lifting and the world-conquering. It's not as if they've made a mess of it thus far (I'm looking at you, Hitler). Not that there's anything wr

Two years ago... Finding myself. That phrase again. You're more than welcome to insert an eyeroll here. I had it coming. But screw you because it's almost my personal mantra at this point. Almost, because within it lies the implication that I've lost myself. Like, lost me. Way too light a word in reference to a live human being. Sure, you might misplace a pair of glasses, of which you might describe to your friends and family, whom you'll enlist to help you search. Does a human being follow the same protocol? Maybe a missing poster? WANTED: Me, with added wisdom and peace (preferably alive) Which brings me to my next conclusion: I've never had me