I’ll tell you what I want this International Women’s Day.

Now, this might not be a popular blog.

And to caveat, I think today is great when used wisely. By campaign’s and NGO’s that are really trying to affect change. Trying to get girls into school in the developing world, the gender pay gap, the right to choose.

But if I see one more Instagram post of companies giving their women cupcakes or little sweets today to celebrate the day of the woman, I might go, in a very ungainly fashion, and punch a wall.

If I see one more shop giving out sweets at the till or free coffees to women today, I might go and punch another one.

Not because I’m adverse to free shit, bring it on.

But because there’s a lot I want this IWD and it certainly ain’t a glittery muffin.

I want to know that my friends and I are being paid the same as our male counterparts at work.

I want to stop getting jeered out by twats in vans.

I don’t want people thinking that grabbing a girls arse in a pub is a decent launch pad for marriage.

I don’t want to be called ‘a feminist’ every time I have an opinion.

Or told to stop ‘burning my bra’ every time mine differs from someone else’s.

I don’t want looks when I order a pint.

I want to know that the version of me that’s living in Mumbai, actually had the chance to go to school, learn to devour a book like I do, do a job she’s passionate about.

What I really want is companies to take a day like today seriously, and actually make some changes if they feel they need to.

I want them to realise that by picking the women out as the one’s to get the treats is doing nothing but being sadly ironic.

I tell you what I really don’t want.

A shiny, pink fucking Lindor ball.

LL x




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