“Tell me where you feel it.” commands the psychologist. I place my hand on my chest, right at the top of my sternum. “In here,” I reply. “What does it feel like?” “Um... it just feels very tight,” I answer. I could tell her it feels like my chest is being compressed, compounded and then…

I got my first period a month before I started high school. It was 2008 and I was 12 years old. I was the first out of all my friends and wore my pad like a badge of honour. I was proud to be a baby woman, taking my first steps towards adulthood with a…

Josephine is 23-year-old engineer who spends so much time around men she has to devote all her free time to creating vagina art just to keep her from burning the world. She whipped this baby up as part of our artistry challenge about body hair, and you can suss more of her work here.

Popular culture is obsessed and saturated with love. Especially romantic love. From Valentine’s Day to rom-coms, it seems that nothing pulls our heartstrings quite so tenderly. We learn and internalise the narrative of romantic love from an early age; it is something that we are taught to seek and experience. But there are other expectations…

This week’s activity is as simple as it is powerful. There’s a rousing poem by Indian-born Canadian poet Rupi Kaur: i want to apologize to all the women i have called beautifulbefore i’ve called them intelligent or bravei am sorry i made it sound as thoughsomething as simple as what you’re born withis all you…

Hair. Some women wear it as a symbol of femininity or cultural solidarity, or to comply with the normative practices of their society or subculture. Others wear it as a bold political statement, to rebut gender norms or a means to get close to, or away from, trending fashions.  Hair carries personal, cultural, and religious…

In my childhood kitchen, there were four stacked drawers. The top three were orderly, their contents organised and pristine: polished silverware, freshly laundered tea towels and neatly nested bowls. The bottom drawer, however, juxtaposed those above it. It was the candy drawer, and upon opening it one would be subjected to an avalanche of sugar.…

When I was 18, I decided I wanted to leave, go far away from my little town in my little country of El Salvador. I wanted to fulfil my dream of studying Fine Arts away from the limitations of my conservative family and society. However, I never imagined that the act of leaving the place…

Give us a peek into the inner workings of your phantasmagorical mind. This week’s artistry challenge calls on you to escape your current reality and forge a new world via the magic of collage. Whether you do it digitally using the lasso tool on a photo-editing program or you take a pair of scissors to…

show as you go a different version of you as many as you like you're you and that's enough to be enough

Self-loathing. No, more self-questioning. I don’t loathe myself after all. And yet, I am still a 20-year-old girl; I don’t exactly like myself, all the time. My brain is hardwired to ‘Me! Me! Me!,’ as is the human condition of youths living under a worldwide ‘Kardashian-government’.  Insecurities, although not always my mind, often bubble to…

Upon this throneI ask for nothingI was born hereChained to it. It is not like this:I command theeI rule over thee.It is more like this:Here I am plasteredFor all to seeAs the piranhasSwarm at my feet. Upon this throneI wish to be left alone.I have two feet of my own,But they nip at my toes.