A few weeks ago, I wrote about stress. About how the world can seem too big, too threatening, and how it’s okay to feel that way.

Even though I’ve turned in my final thesis, I am not feeling particularly relieved just yet. May and June are packed with internship, work and exams, and my summer vacation has been reduced to finding activities in my hometown – not that I’m complaining, but this girl grew up in the South and needs her some vitamin D!.

After the 26th of June I’m an almost free woman – homegirl still gotta work for a living. I’ll be able to enjoy two months of summer job, summer parties and summer weather, getting ready to start it all again in September. What I will be starting in September? Well… I got into the Journalism Master’s Programme! Getting one step closer to my dream of writing for a living, one overestimated college education at a time! Yay!

 So while I practice and prepare for years of writing, all you wonderful people can get ready to read all of my practicing!

I guess what I’m trying to say is: sorry I’ve been absent, but get ready for some content! 🙂

Love,

Naya

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