Like many of us, I have been feeling a lot of anger and frustration towards men for not stepping up and being more active in trying to end the abuse, oppression and violence towards women and non binary people. I feel angry that so many men do not appear to share my outrage. And when I think about this, my thoughts keep coming back to this one thing…to all those groups of people who are always treated as less than.

My daughter is three, and I have been thinking a lot lately about what life will be like for her. And I have been feeling angry. As a young girl I remember learning very quickly that if I was quiet, and sweet, and smiled, people would like me. Especially boys and men. I remember feeling special when people told me I looked pretty. Especially boys. Like that was the most important thing in the world.

Death visited me at a young age. When I was three years old my baby sister Brenda Simone died when she was just 5.5 months old after contracting meningitis. I don’t remember a lot about that time. But I do remember seeing her on the morning she died. I remember my Dad holding her; she had purple spots all over her. I remember the sense of panic. I remember we stayed at a friends house while Mum and Dad were at the hospital. I remember when they came to pick us up, Brenda wasn’t with them.

Expectations… They can sabotage our thoughts and our actions with their lingering presence. They are the irritating mosquito buzzing around our ear at night that just won’t quit. They are that merciless song that gets stuck in our head; we try to ignore, but it just keeps persisting! They loom, they loiter, they lurk – suffocating us with their relentless ‘shoulds’. They are the ultimate killjoy.