#femalefeature Wednesday brings us Frida Kahlo. I was tempted to follow her name with, 'enough said', but it wouldn't be enough.
Frida was born in 1907, but changed her birth date to 1910 so that she could share her birth date with the year that the Mexican revolution began.
She was fiercely nationalistic, profoundly loved Mexico; evidenced in both her artwork and fashion sense. Frida wanted to be eternally associated with the Mexican Revolution. A revolution that included people from various classes.
Openness about her bisexuality, in a deeply Catholic country, is to be admired. Especially when that part of her was often trivialized or downplayed.
Frida lived. Raw and real and present. So may we.
#sickgirlsclub@mabgraves first introduced me to this hashtag. It's one I discreetly follow and lurk around liking stuff in but not obviously interacting too much with. I'm not wanting to make out I have the same level of pain as others with chronic illnesses.
So, why lurk at all? I'll tell you why, good question dear follower, because an illness is more debilitating when we don't acknowledge it, try to suppress it and don't have open honest dialogues about it.
I remember the kids at school who had to make cards for days like today; some had absent fathers and others had lost theirs, some had strained relationships and others painful memories.
When you're privileged you often don't know it. You are unlikely to realise the ways in which things you take for granted are actually just your good fortune.
My dad votes Labour, believes in unions, admired Muhammad Ali, was into Bowie when 'only faggots' liked him, thinks we are part of one body, is a staunch supporter of the NHS, values loyalty and berates others for racist or mysogynistic views, taught me to punch when I was being bullied and accepted it when I got a girlfriend in my 30s.