Leave My Body Alone

I cannot believe I actually have to write this piece but I am going to do so because I believe that this needs to be said, screamed and written on the the walls. Leave women’s bodies the fuck alone. 

From the beginning of time, women have punished for sexuality and confidence, whilst men have been rewarded and admired for theirs. Words like harlot, heathen, slut have all been used to try to dampen the spirits of women for having feelings and expressing natural urges and desires. This ends now. 

The matter of consent is the main central discussion that needs to be kept in the middle of this post. Women are shamed for being modest and shamed for being sexy. There is literally no winning in the patriarchy because the patriarchy does not understand the concept of consent. If a woman chooses to wear modest clothing, that is her decision and she should not be judged. If a woman chooses to wear revealing clothing, that is her decision and she should not be judged. 

“Leave things to the imagination” they say. Unfortunately, saying that implies that your body and your sexuality is up for their consumption. It implies that the only time you can be open about your appearance is when someone else imagines it. No! The main concept of bodily autonomy is that what is yours is yours. 

Recently, I was messaged by a relative, saying that my latest post on Instagram (which involved me in a selfie with a low cut shirt) was inappropriate. That relative told me I was half dressed and that I shouldn’t be putting up images like that. Why? Because my shoulders and cleavage were on display? As if no other person on this planet possibly possesses those exact same body parts. I was told that I was “pretty and smart” and that I didn’t “need to look sexy for Instagram”. No you’re absolutely right, I am pretty and smart. I didn’t have to do anything for Instagram. I did it because I wanted to, because I felt confident and because I looked pretty damn hot. 

In this day and age, if a cleavage photo bothers you, then you really should adapt your views to the times. If a boy had posted the same photo I did, there would no concern. Why is it only problematic if I do it? Should I cover up and hide myself forever? Does that mean I should never show anyone anything? Why does my perceived nudity alter my intelligence and beauty? 

Women are multi-faceted human beings and honestly our appearance and sexual expression in no way should jeopardise our character and our reputation. Get over yourselves, it’s the 21st century! 

There are so many more problems to be concerned with than a young woman who is confident with her body. And please use that time that you had recently devoted to sexism and slut-shaming to do something productive and positive. 

We are not your babes, we are not your toys. Grow the hell up. 

Growing Up - Foreign

Recently I was sitting with a group of my friends and discussing the poignant topic of culture. I listened to them, speaking about who they were from a cultural standpoint, understanding and knowing their roots and feeling deep connections within their ancestry. It was at this point that I decided to write a piece about my own experience with that poignant topic - culture. 

My parents arrived from Yugoslavia in the early 90s, escaping civil war and attempting to settle in the recently (legally) liberated South Africa. After leaving Yugoslavia (now Serbia), they learnt a new language and adapted to new cultural norms and practices. Then I was born. 

My first language was Serbian but at the age of three, I learned English at my private primary school, which in the eyes of many, is the most basic form of privilege (I agree, it was). It was at this point that my cultural identity began to morph into a sort of hybrid, half-South African, half-Serbian.

Throughout my early years, I never really related to any of my friends when they spoke about family gatherings on Sundays or even the simple fact that their parents knew the Afrikaans language. My family was living in Serbia and my parents did not speak Afrikaans. I felt strange, knowing this yet still not fully understanding the nature of my feelings. 

My parents are wonderful people who always put me first. In doing so, we stopped speaking Serbian at home and English was now our primary language. When I meet Serbian people nowadays, they often remark how strange my accent is and how the gaps in my language are deplorable. When I speak to my fellow South Africans, they often ask me where I am from. I was born in Sandton, South Africa but clearly this does not reflect in who I am. 

I often say to myself, I am too South African to be Serbian and to Serbian to be South African. I find home and comfort in neither because I feel separate from both identities. 

Speaking to my own grandparents is difficult, my Eastern European side has practically been depleted from my memory, I speak with a broken language that I can say breaks their heart whenever I utter any words. Yet, I am often told by the people I grew up with, "Oh Mila is Serbian!". 

No, Mila is not. I am not Serbian, I cannot honestly call myself that, I have no cultural roots to that country besides my family. I am not South African, I have no roots here besides my memories of the past. 

It is hard getting by, convincing yourself that you are a citizen of the world when you know in your heart that you are not. It's strange how I feel like an immigrant, in the country of my birth. It's strange how I feel like an immigrant, in the country of my origin. 

These are not often stories that get told but I am glad that I told my experience on this blog today, maybe this will encourage other people to understand how I feel and understand the way that I am. 

As they say in Serbian, "Nema veze, ti si moya zvezda". 

- Mila Brkic 

Feminist Writers or Writers Who Are Feminists?

In the world of literature, every female writer is analysed brutally by the public, with authors such as Elena Ferrante being hunted down by an amateur detective and Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche being reprimanded for her extensive Pan-African writing. Yet, James Patterson continues to co-write his stories, cash in millions and somehow manages to never ever be publically shamed. Funny how that works.

Every time a woman writes a story, she needs to be careful. Her characters cannot be too strong, they cannot be too weak, they need to be relatable but not too relatable, they need to be clever but not cliche... blah blah blah. If a woman writes about somebody who has no self esteem, she is seen as anti-feminist. If a woman writes about someone with a wonderful sense of confidence, she is seen as a "feminist bitch". Women just cannot seem to catch a break. 

It seems as though women's literature is somehow judged more harshly due to it being developed in the female mind. For some reason, every story a woman writes needs to be exemplary with perfect characters and perfect language to be considered decent. Whereas, Jo Nesbo can write the same book twelve times and have nobody bat an eye. 

Let women express themselves free from your patriarchal judgment. We have so many stories to tell and your unfair standards and misogynistic critique are simply standing in our way, move them. Oh and don't worry, we'll make sure to include a "strong male character" while we're at it.

- Mila Brkic 

The Art of Saying No - A Realist's POV

I like to think that in the 21st century, we have grown as a species, meaning that we have found our own truths and assets and have decided to use them throughout our lives. Unfortunately that is not the case, as many people, in this day and age, are still terrified of the prospect of saying "no" to somebody.

As a staunch feminist, I know how the word "no" is sadly not taken very seriously by many people. Whether it be saying no to a creep asking you out or simply not consenting to sleep with someone. A friend of mine, commented a while ago that it's about how the person says no. I was very annoyed with that obviously ignorant statement. I wasted no time in telling him what was wrong with his statement. A firm "no" is exactly what it is. A "no". Meaning, that is not happening, I don't want this, I didn't say that etc... The age old belief of "playing hard to get" is in actual fact, somebody who is not interested in pursuing a relationship with you. Rejection can be tough, of course but dealing with that rejection in a misogynistic, chauvinistic way is wrong and honestly, disgusting.

I love making people happy and it breaks my heart knowing that I've disappointed someone. However, I began thinking about what saying "yes" did for me. Too often, after I've said yes, have I felt exhausted and taken advantage of. For example, someone asking me to do their essay for them because they were very tired or someone asking me to use my lunch break to track down their missing iPad. I'm not saying, "don't be kind". Believe me, having an open heart that gives more than it receives is still an ideal I long to have and an asset I believe I do have. My advice is to be smart when saying "yes".

I came across a quote in a book I was reading, that said something along the lines of "sacrifice is living love". Why? Why is love only deemed acceptable if we practically die showing it? Why is it that love needs to be exhausting and challenging in order to be seems as true? Is it not possible for people to be happy whilst still expressing their love? Writers and artists alike have always reiterated the idea that "love is suffering". Why? Is saying no to a loved one bad? Is it a shameful thing to do? Once again, I'm not saying, "don't be kind". I'm saying, "think about why you are saying yes".


There is a fine line between selfishness and self-preservation. Most of us do not succeed in never crossing into either terrains. Being human means making mistakes. Being human also means learning from them. So my advice to you is, give at your heart's content but don't forget about yourself in the process.


-Mila Brkic

Why Harry Potter Mirrors The United States Right Now

As a liberal, I was shocked at the news that Donald Trump was to become the new United States President. Both realistically & romantically, I was surprised. Realitistically, following every disgusting thing that Donald Trump has said and his sexual assault allegations - I assumed that common sense would prevail and even the most uneducated of people would realize that this man did not belong in the US government. Romantically, I believed America was a progressive place where tolerance and freedom reigned, not bigoted egotistical monsters.

Unfortunately, both sides of my brain were wrong. Donald Trump won the electoral votes. Essentially, the people voted for Hilary Clinton but the system voted for Donald Trump. This past week, I have been watching the Harry Potter movies again (I have read the books, please don't worry)    and that got me thinking about how everyone in Harry Potter is in essence, part of this election. Let me explain:


Donald Trump - Lord Voldemort (the definition of evil, people underestimated his power)


Melania Trump - Gilderoy Lochhart (hasn't actually done anything herself, uses other Wizards' material, plagiarizes Hermione's speech)

Mike Pence - Dolores Umbridge (seems to be a lesser evil but is in fact, just as crazy)

Republican Party - Death Eaters (honestly, need I say more?)

Hilary Clinton - Severus Snape (nobody always knows what she's against or what she's for but she essentially saves the day)

Bernie Sanders - Albus Dumbledore (has good intentions, sees the greater good, combats everything that Donald Trump/Lord Voldemort is about)

Democratic Party - Order of the Phoenix

Third Party Voters - The Malfoys (they think they contribute to the wizarding world but they've really just ruined everything)

Barack Obama - Harry Potter (spends eight years of his life improving the world only to have it torn down by Lord Voldemort)

Michelle Obama - Hermione Granger (smart, feminist, hero)

Sexism, homophobia, xenophobia & racism - Horcruxes (DT can only stay in power if these aren't destroyed)

It actually fits perfectly. Hope this clears something up for you!

-Mila

Why People Need Horror Movies

I love horror movies. I absolutely adore the cliché storylines, bad acting and gore. I love gore. From that druggie's arm being crushed by a truck in Evil Dead to Jessica Biel being repeatedly slashed at in the remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. And I consider myself to be a fairly mild-mannered human being. So what is it about horror movies that comforts me so?

Realistically speaking, my answer would be that there is some primal urge in the human psyche that longs to see suffering but because we've evolved as a society, that bloody pain can only be truly captured in films, otherwise we would all be raging, homicidal maniacs (cue, The Purge).
Romantically speaking, my answer would be fairly similar, citing the reason as a human response to social development. It is not very often that both sides of my brain agree wholeheartedly.

I watched my first horror movie when I was twelve, it was my friend's birthday sleepover and we decided to rent a scary movie to watch. Our choice was Fear Island, staring Hailey Duff as the main role. No offense to Hailey but you always know you won't be getting world-class art if you see her as the title role in a movie. It was a horrible movie, granted but it opened my eyes to this vibrant genre.

I set myself a mission - to find a horror movie that honestly scared me. I finally found one, The Conjuring 2 gave me the shivers (a possible factor could have been the fact that I watched it with my best friend Danijela who seems to make everything scarier with her existential attitude, we're a very positive bunch I know.)

The fact of the matter is, I am satisfied knowing that something has scared me. It makes me feel a lot more human and I think that's mostly the reason why people need to watch horror movies - to feel alive. I know that my reason is cliché and expected but I genuinely believe that sometimes people are too busy existing instead of living. So, next time you feel a little glum, put on an old Wes Craven classic and let all of your feelings come back - fear, irritation, etc.

"And remember, the next scream you hear may be your own!'' - The Birds,1963.

Theatrical Romanticism & Why Mankind Needs It

Theatrical Romanticism - Necessary or Superfluous?

 

As a Dramatic Arts student, I am exposed to a great deal of playwrights. The playwright that comes to mind when I begin to wonder about the Romantic Movement is, none other than, Victor Hugo. The man famously known for creating the beautiful and undeniably tear-jerking Les Miserables. Then my mind begins to challenge my association - how is Victor Hugo possibly a literary romantic when Les Miserables is desperately sad and grim?

Theatrical romanticism is defined as ''An idealistic fantasy exploring human emotion, dreams and control''. Victor Hugo's works do fit under this general definition. But why? Well, Les Miserables is riddled with emotion - hope, love, fear etc. It also provides an untarnished, unchanged view of war. It accurately documents the smaller revolutions occurring in post-revolution France. These reasons sound like realism to me, so why is Les Miserables then classified as a romantic piece?

To put it bluntly, the revolutionaries are glorified - having been portrayed as dreamers, innovators and great thinkers, readers in the modern era are left thinking that these young men were martyrs for the cause when actually their deaths did not achieve much and their beliefs of equality were hardly inclusive. Jean Valjean's unfortunate daughter Cosette is also unflinchingly annoying - not doing much and yet receiving the most out of all of the characters. Because of Victor Hugo's narrative, readers see her as a symbol of love, I see her as a symbol of entitlement. She has been romanticized, just like the Revolutionaries.

So why do we need stories like this? Why do we feel the way we do about Hugo, Goethe and Lessing? When we know that they were in some ways, liars? We need them because they shield us away from the harsh realities of the world. They give us something to believe in, something to hope for.

The realistic part of my psyche is screaming at me whilst I write this, demanding to know why I am encouraging the sale of false dreams. I am encouraging it because I believe in people and I believe in happiness. Romanticism provides happiness for people. It's that glorified album that we love, it's the Jennifer Lawrences of this world, the paintings that leave out the poverty and paint the sky that keeps the world turning. It is these seemingly false images that keep us satisfied.

The realist in me agrees that people will always need some sort of comfort. The romantic in me provides it.

- Mila Brkic, 2016.