I’ve never been a fan of catcalling. So few of us are, I guess. I believe street harassment in general is a serious issue, and it makes me feel weak and unsafe to know my body is being sexualized and judged because of the way I dress, walk or simply look.

I grew up in Spain, and catcalling there is part of your every-day life. As soon as I reached that age of “OH GOD what the heck is happening to my body?!?”, I also reached the age at which being yelled at down the street is perfectly okay.

Not exactly your ideal scenario, attracting so much attention when awkward is already part of your day-to-day life as a teenager – with your limbs and body growing in weird, uncoordinated ways and all that. But what are you going to do, right?

The worst part is that I have experienced people actually getting mad because I refused to acknowledge their callings. No: it is not a compliment; and no: me walking within 50 meters of you does not give you the right to comment on my appearance. If you absolutely want to tell someone how much they’ve caught your eye, go up to them and tell them, yet respect their right to not want to listen.

Because, to be honest, I’d love to get to know someone whose line was “You’re prettier than a new tractor” – not kidding here, it was yelled to a friend of mine outside a bakery. Or that one person who had the whit to come up with “If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINE-apple”. I mean, where do they get these ideas? The best I can come up with is “If you were a potato, you’d be a good potato”!

I guess what I’m trying to say is… don’t catcall. It makes us feel uncomfortable, unsafe and self-conscious. If you really just must let that person know, then walk up to them, and explain yourself. Who knows, you guys might even end up getting a cup of coffee instead of her just running in the other direction!

Love,

Naya

I am currently puppy-sitting. Adorable Coda – the fluffy one featured in the picture – has been in my life for quite a while. He is big, blonde and beautiful, and he made sure the road to my heart was paved with paw prints, which results in me puppy-sitting every once in a while.

Puppy-sitting means I am in a big house, all alone with the exception of my cuddle/protection device – read: big-ass fuzzy Coda-pups. Now, this might not seem like a big deal to most of you, especially to those of you who live alone, but to me, it’s exciting.

Why? Lemme tell you! It has been roughly a year since I moved in with one of my best friends, and thenin with my lovely permanent roommate – aka mah boyfriend, which means I have not been officially alone in a house/apartment for equally long. Not only that, but due to our current/almost-non-existent work schedule mixed with us being in exam season, le boyfriend and I have been home pretty much 24/7, with the exception of a few hours here and there.

And what does that mean? That means I haven’t gotten to do any of the weird shit you do when you’re alone and/or think no one is watching, and I am looking forward to every single little thing. Oh, you want examples? Well Imma gonna give you that too, dear reader!

Hence here it is: Naya’s list of fun but weird shit to do when you’re alone!

• Dance like no one is watching *wink!*. No music? Well… does it matter? Bust out your best moves, feel sexy, quirky and have fun with it! Not single? Not a lady? Don’t matter: work that Single Ladies like you own it!
• Put on some music, and sing. Go big or go home, aka crank up that volume until your whale-call of a voice is masked by the angelical voice of everyone on your embarrassing playlist.
• On that same note, try sing-narrating stuff that you do. Sound weird? Maybe, but you’ll be happy when you realize how much more entertaining I just made your dishwashing later. You’re welcome.
• Try out weird hair/clothes/make-up combos. Pinterest is your friend, and you’ll be surprised at how many of these combos actually kinda look cute on you. FYI, 50% of my outfits come from getting weird and playing dress-up with myself.
• Don’t be afraid to explore new comfy positions and places to sit/lay around your house. Be it to read, watch something or just sit on your phone, you might find out that “legs up lying in the corner of the living room” is actually a nice place to scroll on your social media.

And there you have it! Most of the shit I do while I’m alone and certain that my self is going to stay by herself!

Love,

Naya

Social media. We got it, we use it, we love it – though some more than others, and some more secretly than others. I mean, you wouldn’t want ANYONE to actually think you spend time on Facebook, or worrying about how many followers you have on Instagram/Twitter/*Insert new website that the cool kids keep up with but I haven’t heard of yet*.

Now I’ll be honest: I have a true love-hate relationship with social media. The kind that only fast-food lovers and people with personal trainers will get.

On the one hand, it’s this magical place in which I can snoop around in all of my friends’ – and also my “friends’” – lives, find out how fabulous my favourite artists/celebrities still look, that they’re only human, and what I have to do to look just like them all in one place! AND from the comfort of my own pyjamas and living room! What’s that? It doesn’t even stop there? You can also get news, information and just random facts about virtually anything. If you “follow” the right, trendy, up-to-the-minute people and sites, that is.

On the other hand… all of these wonders and this (almost) unlimited knowledge come with a side effect. You know how you like to openly judge everything you read, quietly sipping your morning coffee while shaking your head and going “tsk tsk tsk”, just thinking of how you could have made that status update just SO much better/funnier/more interesting? Well… I am TERRIFIED of that judgement. The rule is, if I do it, there is a huge chance everyone else does it to me.

As a result, I overthink everything I post, and, as the grammar-Nazi that I – proudly – am, I am particularly petrified of ever making a typo or spelling mistake. I mean, what will people think of me? How will I ever become a writer if I can’t even keep up my grammar and spelling?

I realize this may sound insane. Okay, I realize this is insane… a Facebook-status update will obviously not doom my career as a writer… right?

Love,

Naya

P.S.: Don’t forget to like, share, follow… all that social media jazz that makes me oh-so happy! Also, please don’t tell me if I made a typo in this post. I’ll probably already know, and will have crawled under my duvet worrying about the future, because my life no longer makes sense.