#100GoodThings – Make Humanity Great Again

2016 sure knows how to kick us when we’re down, doesn’t it?

I tried to count how many terrorist attacks there have been this year, and gave up after thirty – before realising that I was ONLY LOOKING AT SEPTEMBER. Let that sink in.

Bowie died, and the fabric of the universe melted – Prince, Alan Rickman, Victoria Wood – to name a few. Brussels, Brexit, and now President Fart. I mean, come on universe, give us room to breathe.

So some beautiful Twitter pals of mine, Perri and Niall and I have decided that we aren’t letting hate win, and you shouldn’t either.

After a year that has fallen to hate, sexist, racism, prejudice, distrust, and fragmented communities, it’s so so easy to feel lost and disheartened. To give up.

But this is still our planet. We still have to live here, and we still love the people on it.

Each good deed has a ripple effect. Each good person makes a difference. And when one good person does a good thing, and another joins them, it has a snowball effect. Soon a hundred good people are making real change.

Today, I signed up as a Samaritans volunteer. Yesterday, I joined Fawcett Society, a charity for women’s rights.

And so begins #100GoodThings. Each day, do a good deed. It’s as simple as that. Each day do one thing that helps someone else. Tweet it with the hashtag. And soon, we have a whole feed of good deeds. A good feed, if you will.

If everyone does one good thing a day, imagine how quickly the world will become amazing. Miss a day? No fear, post something positive you saw.

Some ideas of good deeds, you ask?

How about joining a charity you care about?
Donating christmas presents to the salvation army so a family in need can have a good Christmas?
Give your old clothes to a charity shop.
Volunteer at a soup kitchen, or a homeless shelter, or for the samaritans
Send me some warm clothes to give to shelters and rough sleepers
Help someone with their gardening
Find a lonely person, have a cuppa with them.
Buy a coffee for someone on the street
Help someone with their homework
Listen to someone’s problems without talking about yourself
LITERALLY ANYTHING – there’s so much room for you to be bloody wonderful. Do what feels right. But just DO something.

In response to the election result, I shared this on Facebook, and it pretty much sums up how I feel about not giving in.

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It’s time to be the best version of you, the kindest version of you. Bitterness isn’t going to fix this shit storm, only positivity can do that. Stand up for your fellow human, stand up for what you believe in, stand up for each other, stand the fuck up.

Be the person you’d be proud to tell your mum about. Be the sort of person Lin Manuel Miranda would write a musical about.

Be good. 100 days. 100 good things.

Ready?
Let’s go.

 

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13 things I wish someone had told me when I was 13

By Hannah Bundock

Puberty isn’t an easy time to be a girl. Hair starts growing in annoying places, the arrival of spots mean that you’re experimenting (usually unsuccessfully) with make-up and you suddenly have a ton of emotions that you just can’t deal with. Yep, being a teenager can suck, so here are a few things to help you out on your journey to womanhood. Things I really wished I’d known…

Never dry shave

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And especially never dry shave and then put on deodorant! You may as well rub stinging nettles under your armpits. It hurts! There is always time to do a proper wet shave. Always!

Never shave an unconventional place

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You won’t be the first ill-informed youth to think it’s a great idea to shave your arms, stomach or eyebrows…it’s not. There is a reason it hasn’t caught on. As too many of us know, once you shave one of these areas the hair never grows back the same. It grows through thick dark and furiously, so much so that you are condemned to a life of plucking evermore. Honestly don’t do it.

Never wear new knickers when you’re due on

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It seems obvious but so many of us forget this, even us ‘grown ups’. When you’re due on it’s strictly granny panties. No new underwear, nothing white, just gross old pants. Trust me it’s really irritating when Aunt Flow ruins your favourite pair of pants.

Never use a tampon just because you’re due on

Pulling out a dry tampon like..

Pulling out a dry tampon like..

Another period one, but really they should teach you these things in school! Never use a tampon unless you are actually on your period. When I was young, I made the fatal error of using a tampon just in case I came on in my lesson. Removing a dry tampon is ridiculously painful; genuinely thought I’d pulled out a fallopian tube or something.

You can only use being on your period as an excuse to get out of P.E so many times

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Teachers are cleverer than students give them credit. Believe it or not, even the men are aware that periods only come once a month. Therefore you have to use this excuse sparingly.

Never send a love letter to your teacher

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Not something I’ve done personally, but I know people. Sadly your love for Mr Dreamy Eyes the Maths teacher is going to be unrequited.  To him you are his student and worse than that, you are a child. He’s never going to think of you that way. Save yourself an embarrassing day talking about your feelings in the headteachers office and tear up that note!

It’s not a race to lose your virginity

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There is no rush to have sex. It doesn’t make you grown up or cool despite what some of your peers may think. Plus when you’re actually an adult, nobody cares. Wait until the right time with the right person. And if he/she isn’t willing to wait, they’re not the right person. Simple as that. Also, the kids in your class talking loudly about their sexual conquests… they’re lying.

An orgasm should feel amazing

 

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So when you do find the right person (and you’re aged 16 or over) and the time is right, sex should feel good. Well, not the first time, that’s usually awkward and a bit painful, but after that. You will know when you have had an orgasm. If you’re not sure, you haven’t had one.

Foundation isn’t always the answer

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That spot on your face, it isn’t that big. It only looks big because it’s on your face and you’re staring at it in the mirror and therefore you think it’s huge. The rest of us didn’t even notice it. You don’t have to cover up every blemish, it’s good to let your skin breath a bit. But if you do decide to use foundation please, please match it to your skin tone. Having a giant orange face on top of your ghostly white neck is far more noticeable than your tiny zit. Why do they even sell foundation that colour?

Eyeliner is an art

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Eyeliner, especially liquid eyeliner is tricky. It looks so easy to put on, but it’s not. It takes practice, lots of practice. Never try and rush it, because it will inevitably go wrong and don’t try to put liquid eyeliner on your bottom eyelid unless you’ve reached expert level. If not you’ll spend the next 20 minutes trying to fish black globs of make-up out of your eye. If you do successfully apply your eyeliner, be sure to take it off before bed. It’ll only take you 5 mins and it’ll prevent you from looking like a member of Kiss in the morning and from future eye pain. Trust me.

Sneaking alcohol out of the house

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Stealing a small amount of Mum and Dad’s alcohol seems like a clever idea, but it’s not. You will never be brave enough to sneak out enough to even get yourself tipsy whilst sitting in the park with your friends. Plus your Mum will know… Mums know everything.

Don’t aspire to be one of the cool kids

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I know that they have loads of friends, they wear the right clothes and they always seem to be laughing, but you don’t need to be like those kids. Be yourself, find your own little group of friends and stop trying so hard. In the real world (the adult one) the ‘cool kids’ aren’t any more successful than the rest of us. Plus, the older you get the more you’ll realise that those kids aren’t actually that happy. They fall out amongst themselves all the time and bitchiness is rife. You don’t need that drama.

You’ll be fine

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It may seem like the world is ending today and that nothing will ever be ok again, but it will. You’ll be fine. Next year you won’t even remember the things that are stressing you out today. A lot of what you are feeling at present are hormones and they eventually settle down.  Hang in there. It does get better.

Five things my adult self does not give a fuck about anymore

By Kelsey Champion

I’d like to say I was an introverted, angsty teenager; but actually I was a gobby little bitch. I mean, now I’m a gobby big bitch but that’s neither here nor there.

The thing is with being a teenager, is that everything is a big deal! There is so much pressure to fit in or be ‘cool’ – and the fact that I instinctively put the word cool in quote marks leads me to believe that I never was and never will be it.

I’d love to reach back in time and slap my 16 year old self round the face and shout “get a grip! None of this matters!”

Here’s a list of things I realise I used to care about, but now frankly I haven’t got a single fuck to give.

 

Pooping

Yep. I went there. I know I’m not alone in saying at school or college, there was NO WAY you’d answer nature calling on the back door. If anything, the girls in my school pretended it wasn’t a thing. Someone I know had to go to hospital because she wouldn’t even pee at school; she gave herself a nasty infection. In all honesty, I don’t know how true that is but for the sake of argument, let’s say it is.

Now, however, certain friends and I talk about it openly. One friend, who for the purpose of anonymity let’s call… ok I can’t think of another name, it’s Georgia… Sulky Bitch Editor, Georgia and I talk openly about it; when we are, when we can’t, when someone walks in after and you stand there proud as punch. Pooping at work is a particular favourite. (Ed’s note: Don’t forget hangover poop!)

Anyway, the point is pooping in public is no longer something I give a fuck about.

Body hair

I’m a busy girl with a thriving social life and a demanding job which gets a lot of my attention, small details like a bit of leg hair are not something I care about!

[Read busy girl with a thriving social life and a demanding job which gets a lot of my attention as ‘lazy girl with an addiction to Netflix and sitting down’.]

Some might say its ‘gross’ or ‘unladylike’ but let’s be fair, look at how many times I’ve said fuck in this post so far, did you ever really think I was ladylike?

Also, ‘ladylike’ can fuck itself. There’s no such thing. See this post if you think it is.

Early nights

I used to force myself to stay up late because going to bed before midnight was lame. Sleeping felt like a waste of my valuable time so I would do my best to stay awake as much as possible. This in turn meant that I would oversleep in the morning and then start the cycle all over again. But now if I want to go to bed, I’m going. Even if its 7pm; if the Sandman visits I am sure as shit going to sleep.

Wobbly thighs

Hello, I’m a real life human female. I’m a firm believer (the only time I can use the word ‘firm’ to describe myself) that there are many more important things whether you can fit in TopShop clothes or look good in a bikini. For the record, no I can’t and hells yeah I do – respectively. Now before I go any further, nothing I am saying is body shaming. If you are stick thin and HEALTHY then you’re gorgeous. If you are more voluptuous and HEALTHY then you’re gorgeous too. If you’re covered in scales with chronic flatulence and a tail and are HEALTHY then you are also gorgeous. I don’t believe a person’s size matters as long as they’re looking after themselves. Ok got it? Good.

I couldn’t care less if my thighs wobble when I walk. If you don’t like how it looks, well look at my face, if you don’t like that either, well… fuck yourself. My wobbly thighs aren’t hurting anyone – except when I’m in shorts and I get a touch of chub rub – so why should I feel the need to cover up or feel self-conscious about them?

Being a bitch

Some people look at a bossy man and think he is dominant, powerful, strong – all positive connotations. A bossy woman, however, is a bitch. If I think I can do something well, I’m going to. I believe if I have an opinion about it that I am well within my right to discuss it, however more often than not I will keep it to myself. But I’m slowly starting to learn that I have a voice and I have the right to use it. This blog is a particular outlet for such things. That does not make me a bitch. Being powerful and taking charge is not a bitch… if you think it is then I will show you what a bitch really is. I’m devilishly good at it.

Do you follow Sulky Bitch on Twitter? Well, you should! Tweet us your thoughts about this post. Anything you used to think was the end of the world but now you frankly couldn’t give a fuck? Let us know!

 

 

 

The A4 Waist Challenge? The Body Shaming Has GOT to Stop.

By Hannah Bundock

Hey, who’s heard about this new crazy trend of measuring yourself?

You hold up a piece of A4 paper in front of your stomach, and the aim is for your waist to be so small that it disappears behind it…How stupid is that?! Apparently it’s mainly taking off in China at the moment, but it’s only a matter of time before people over here start ‘rising to the challenge’ themselves, and I, personally, am dreading it.

Now I’m not going to lecture you all on how unhealthy it is for people to diet and exercise in extreme manners in order to meet this criteria; I’m assuming you lot have enough brain cells to figure that out for yourselves. Instead I want us all to look at the bigger picture, at female body image in general and the way it seems to divide us.

Usually it starts with a new trend, like the one above, thigh gaps or something of a similar nature, and then it develops into shaming of some sort.

The people who don’t have this new ‘desirable feature’ start to feel bad about themselves, or angry at those who are trying to impose this ‘ideal body image’ on them. In turn, these ladies will post things on social media criticising these features. I’ve seen everything from ‘You wouldn’t want a steak that was nothing but bone, why would you want a woman that way?’  ‘Real men like curves, only dogs go for bones’ right up to ‘There is no excuse for being fat.’  Enough is enough.

Most of the pressure we  feel these days is generated by other women. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a man post anything with regards to the weight he prefers his lady to be. Like, EVER! It’s us that seem to want to permanently pass judgement on other women. Why?! Seriously, what are we achieving by doing this? Of course, scrutinising others isn’t new – it’s a way of giving yourself a dirty little ego boost.

Have the confidence to enjoy your own body, and please, let’s stop putting each other down.


But in reality, as long as you are comfortable in your own body it honestly doesn’t matter what weight you are, or anyone else is. I genuinely believe that confidence is the sexiest aspect of any woman. To me, confidence doesn’t look like posting dozen of pictures of yourself to show off your ‘hot bod’, to me that looks like you’re fishing for compliments because you’re secretly insecure. Equally I don’t think confidence is posting insulting memes explaining why your body shape is so much more desirable than someone else’s. Skinny shaming and fat shaming, they are as bad as each other and they need to stop. The war needs to end.

Skinny Siren or Curvy Queen, we can all be beautiful in our own way. Let’s stop bickering among ourselves as to what a woman ‘should’ look like and enjoy the fact that we are all different.  Everyone has a different preference, so no matter what your body shape or style, you will be someone’s perfect 10. Screw it, be your own perfect 10. Who are you trying to impress? Have the confidence to enjoy your own body, and please, let’s stop putting each other down.

Rape is my responsibility

By Hannah Bundock

Rape is my responsibility. Now there’s a statement that’s going to make lots of people angry, but hear me out.

I’m not agreeing with the misogynistic people out there who state that if I dress a certain way I’m ‘asking for it’. I’m not someone who believes a woman must act demure and reserved if she wishes to avoid unwanted sexual advances. No, I believe that a woman should be able to dress how she like and be as flirty and fun as she pleases and still be safe. Hell, even if I’m butt arse naked and laying on a bed, it’s still my prerogative to change my mind. It’s my decision; no one has the right to take that away from me. One day I want to live in a world where men and women appreciate that simple concept and therein lays my responsibility.

You see, I’m a Mum, to a beautiful energetic, exhausting, infuriating little boy whom I love with all my heart and he is my responsibility. At the moment he is only little, but one day he will be a grown up. As foreign as the idea may seem to me, one day he will be a man talking to women and it is my responsibility to ensure that when that day comes, he knows how to treat a woman with respect and as an equal. It’s my job to teach him that he should not expect anything from a woman, just because she’s wearing a short skirt or because she’s kissed him.

Telling kids that they have to let people to touch them to avoid being rude is a dangerous message.


His lessons will begin before he even realises. If I am tickling him and he tells me to stop,  I will stop. Simple enough, but it teaches him that no means no. If I continued to tickle him once he’d asked me to stop with the justification ‘but you didn’t really mean it’, what sort of behaviour am I teaching him? I wont make him kiss or hug people he does not want to. Telling kids that they have to let people to touch them to avoid being rude is a dangerous message. When he is older he won’t call girls in his class ‘slags’ without me rebuking him and god help him if he tries telling rape jokes. Grounded for a week!

Yes,  rape is my responsibility because (as much as I hate to admit it) I’m an adult, and I am responsible for the next generation. We all are. They watch us and learn from us. I want the sickening statistic  that 1 in every 4 women in the UK will be sexually assaulted to change, and that will only happen if we change. No more slut shaming,  no more laughing at inappropriate jokes just to fit in, no more pretending it’s not to do with us. It’s on us guys, men and women alike. We are responsible.

How I became a converted feminist

By Kelsey Champion

I’m on a bit of a mission to understand the concept of sexism – we all know the basics; sexism is the judgement, mistreatment, and/or stereotyping of a person down to their gender – and it is NOT RIGHT!

I am most certainly not one of those people who are like “vaginas! AMIRITE?!” but I’m also not the “excuse me husband, please may I leave the house?” sort either. I sit somewhere in the middle, a bit like “I personally don’t want to be a firefighter or a police officer, but if Jane Doe does, well you bloody well fight that fire, Jane! You go girl!”

In all honesty, until recent I didn’t really care all that much. “I’m not some feminist warrior” is a terrible thing to say when I am in fact a woman, but being female has never stopped me in life so I took a fairly blinkered approach and decided to ignore it.

“being female has never stopped me in life so I took a fairly blinkered approach and decided to ignore it.”


It wasn’t until I really started to think about it (and talked to my good friend Georgia, the original Sulky Bitch… and she created this blog!) that the concept of sexism came into conversation, when I mentioned a news story I read that morning and (regrettably) said “what’s all the fuss about?”

Well, when someone is actively pushing for equal rights, they generally strive to share the necessary information to ignorant people like me – and that’s exactly what she did. Well, consider me converted! I won’t bog you down with statistics, facts or any opinions because if you care you will find them out for yourself, but I will say that feminism really IS a big deal, despite what I’d previously thought.

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Here is legitimate example of workplace sexism that a dear friend of mine recently encountered. She works in a male-dominated field (because that is still a thing in 2016, somehow – another clear realisation that something is amiss) and I am devastated to say that when she told me what a colleague said about her, I wasn’t shocked. Don’t get me wrong, I was outraged, who wouldn’t be? But I wasn’t surprised to hear that it had happened. This is verbatim: “that’s where you went wrong; you gave it to a woman! What’s she going to do, paint it pink?!”

I mean…. Really… Seriously….What?! What can you even say to that!? My friend was so gobsmacked she just stared at the guy, and the others around her waiting for someone to comment – they didn’t, they just laughed along. I assume it went something like “chortle chortle fnar fnar, I am the best fnar chortle. Boys rule, girls drool”, but that is, so far, unconfirmed.

Fortunately her boss is a forward-thinking, modern man who was not sent to 2016 from the middle-ages, and has escalated this issue. Thank fuck for that, there is hope!

“This is verbatim: ‘that’s where you went wrong; you gave it to a woman! What’s she going to do, paint it pink?!'”


Now there is a fine line between sexism and tradition, for example is it sexist for a father to walk his daughter down the aisle and ‘give her away’? I would say no, some would say yes. It all depends on motive, intent, and consent. There are certain lines which will always be blurred for some people – that’s not to say everyone does or should think the same, but the key here is that a woman should be doing things merely because that’s her preference – not because she feels she should, culturally or otherwise. And that’s one of the many things that was tripping me up. 

Age, religion, culture, environment, upbringing and so many more factors influence where a person’s traditions and ideals, and for the most part, that is A-OK. What’s not ok is the nay-sayers, the deniers, the ones claiming “we’re already equal” and “sexism isn’t a thing”, trying to piss on the fire of those who are trying to make this world (you know, the one we all live in!!) a better place by addressing issues that effect 50% of the population. 

How can that be a bad thing?

Sidebar:  I am a woman and I like shoes, bags, pink things, kittens and rom-coms. Not I am a woman THEREFORE I like shoes, bags, pink things, kittens and rom-coms. SCHOOLED.

 

A Feminist’s Guide to: Arguing on the Internet

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a feminist in possession of Twitter must be in want of a knife.

With the ever raging battle between Laura Bates’ Everyday Sexism Project, Caitlin Moran’s raw, undecorated wit and the ever-growing HeForShe army led by Field Marshall Emma Watson and her “Fuck Yeah”-inducing UN speeches, against a nameless crowd of nay-sayers, fights break out every minute of every day across the Internet (because what is the Internet for if not porn and telling strangers that they’re wrong).

Feminists (both female and male) like you and I are oft to jump to the defence of our ideals, in a moment of sudden, unrelenting rage, the physical effect of which can only be achieved by one word – “meninist”.

Pick your battles

When it comes to Social Media, there’s an abundance of Twitter Twats starkly defending their right to comment on women’s choices and paradoxically insisting that “we’re already equal!”

The real argument lay in the Men’s Rights Activists or “Meninists” – those who pre-prepare twenty thousand ways to ask “so when is International MEN’S Day? Fnar, fnar” (it’s November 18th) and respond to any and all attempts at reason with requests for sandwiches.

It’s difficult to tell, buy these guys are actually crying out for you to correct them. They crave it. It’s scientifically proven* that all angry tweeters just want to be loved – present your case in 140 characters or less and they will see the error of their ways.

Alternatively, save your feminist gusto for those whom are truly mistaken, and not the egg-faced berks who are there for the sole purpose of watching you squirm.

Presenting your case

When arguing with these self-proclaimed maninists, ensure that you first diffuse the situation with a subtle joke about their endowment – something like ‘your penis is demonstrably small and statistically underused’ – whilst waving your vagina proudly in the air. This ought to gain their respect.

Keep the flame burning

It’s easy to let every single one of these plonkers boil your blood to the point of no return – and very possible that you’ll respond to each and every tweet…

Unless, of course, you wish to remain sane. Yes, meninists are dicks (or cunts, let’s not be sexist here) – but 9 times out of 10 their one true goal is to piss us off. Strap on your lady-balls (which are actually small vaginas), take a deep breath, and let it go.

There are still so many important things feminism needs to achieve, and your voice is just as important as the next. Twitter is an incredibly powerful tool if used properly – don’t waste time on the trolls. Keep fighting the good fight, and let’s make a real difference.

Of course it’s forgivable to slip from time to time, and drop a witty quip before floating away on a rainbow cloud of farts.

*May not be real science. May be made up.