Thread by @monaeltahawy

What's it like to fall apart in the middle of a pandemic that coincides with your perimenopause & a grief anniversary? My mind felt like a car that was trying to drive with the hand brake on. And there was nothing to do but sit with it, screeching and all. feministgiant.com/p/essay-fallin…

I think twice before I share vulnerability on social media. When you’re a feminist accustomed to having the dogs of patriarchy let loose on you, you become more comfortable with vowing to bring pain to your enemies than to admitting to your own. But I have learned to do both:

be on the lookout for the dogs of patriarchy, ready to kick their teeth in & also keep my pain soft. When I do share my pain,it's held with such care & love by my community of strangers & comrades online that I have to remind myself: softness drives the revolution as much as rage

I wasn’t paying attention at first, to be honest: to either my perimenopause or the pandemic. Once they both started, there was no going back and it was unclear what lay ahead. You’re in an in-between that can take years so you’d better learn to acclimate. feministgiant.com/p/essay-fallin…

There is “no going back to normal.” We must emerge, not regress.

I refuse to emerge as if unscathed. I insist that we all be scathed, that we refuse to be the people we were at the start of the pandemic. A pandemic, like revolution, does not happen overnight.

We cannot reverse. We will emerge, our hearts unhealed and scarred but awesome.

The way you fall apart as a feminist is to say FUCK YOU I SURVIVED, and release the hand brake, finally, and move into the fear and chaos. feministgiant.com

There is no “going back to normal.” Fuck normal.

I recorded this at the end of May
🎥 @rerutled

There is no going “back to normal.” When the red came off

🎥 @rerutled