beliefs on pornography

pornography is something i feel deeply against, and my beliefs come from a feminist standpoint, where i see it as an industry that perpetuates harm in many ways. while many focus on the negative effects of porn addiction, such as erectile dysfunction and the way it distorts people’s views on sex, for me, the real issue is much deeper. what truly bothers me is the exploitation and grooming of young girls who are lured into the industry, often with promises of fame or money, but ultimately have their lives forever altered. these young women are often pushed into roles that strip them of their autonomy, dignity, and future opportunities. the impact on their mental and emotional well-being is profound, and it’s heartbreaking to think about how many lives are ruined because of the pressure to perform and conform to degrading standards. another terrifying aspect is the alarming amount of child pornography that is often found on adult websites. the fact that this is being normalised and perpetuated is something that should anger everyone. it’s not just the horrific abuse of children that should concern us, but the disturbing culture that tolerates and profits from it. coupled with this, the prevalence of rape-related content on these platforms is another glaring issue. it’s not just that these acts are being shown; it’s that they are being normalised and consumed, further desensitising people to the real harm of sexual violence.
pornography perpetuates harmful stereotypes about sex that are deeply ingrained in our culture, and these ideas are shaping the way people, especially young people, view their own sexuality. the most troubling of these stereotypes is the notion that women say no but actually mean yes, or that we enjoy being choked, hit, or spit on. these ideas are not just degrading - they’re dangerous. they fuel a culture of consent confusion and normalise behaviors that should never be part of a healthy sexual encounter. it creates an environment where men believe these things are acceptable, while women are expected to endure them as part of some twisted ideal of “desire.” what’s even more concerning is how people now get shamed for wanting “vanilla” sex - simple, consensual, and intimate interactions that should be the norm. there’s this pressure to conform to the extremes depicted in porn, as though anything less is boring or inadequate. but in reality, intimacy and connection should not be reduced to the shocking or violent scenes that are so often glorified in the adult industry. choosing not to engage in those extreme behaviors does not make someone less sexual, less adventurous, or less in touch with their desires - it simply means they value connection and respect over exploitation. our choices do not exist in a vacuum. when we consume pornography that sexualises and romanticises the harm women feel every day from men, it distorts our understanding of what is truly harmful. normalising these damaging portrayals does not make them less harmful - it just masks the abuse under the guise of pleasure and entertainment. the reality is that when we see women portrayed as enjoying violence, humiliation, or coercion in sexual situations, it trivialises the very real harm women face in everyday life. it encourages people to view these experiences not as painful and dehumanising, but as acceptable expressions of sexual desire. this is not liberation; it’s exploitation. it’s time we challenge these harmful narratives and work towards a world where women’s experiences are respected, not commodified for the pleasure of others.

beliefs on sex work

i want to make it clear that i deeply respect and support sex workers. i understand that for many, sex work is a necessity - whether due to financial hardship, lack of other options, or being trapped in a system that limits their opportunities. these women are often doing what they need to survive, and that reality must be acknowledged and respected. my disagreement comes not from the workers themselves, but from the system that allows men to “buy” a woman’s body. the idea that a person can be commodified in such a way - reduced to something that can be purchased, used, and discarded - is something i fundamentally oppose. no one should ever feel that their worth is defined by someone else’s ability to buy them. that said, i also recognise that criminalising sex work does nothing but harm the very people it’s supposed to protect. when we make sex work illegal, we push workers into even more dangerous and vulnerable situations. they’re forced to operate in the shadows, where they’re more likely to be exploited, assaulted, or mistreated without any means of seeking help or justice. the criminalisation of sex work isolates these workers, making it harder for them to seek support or even access basic rights and protections. rather than solving the issue, it exacerbates it, making the already difficult lives of sex workers even more precarious. we need to have nuanced conversations about sex work—acknowledging the very real harms of the system that exploits sex workers, while also understanding the importance of decriminalising it to protect their safety. the real problem is the demand for sex that commodifies and objectifies women, and the fact that many sex workers are forced into this line of work because society doesn’t provide enough support or alternatives. it’s not the workers themselves who are to blame; it’s the system that perpetuates this imbalance of power. we need to fight for a world where people, especially women, are not forced into situations of exploitation to survive. it’s not about demonising or judging the individuals, but about dismantling the structures that allow this exploitation to thrive.
sex work is often referred to as one of the oldest professions in the world, and in many ways, that history reveals the painful and horrific realities women have been subjected to for centuries. from ancient times to today, women have been forced into this position due to poverty, lack of choice, and oppressive systems that view them as commodities. throughout history, women have had few options and were often pushed into sex work as a means of survival or were coerced into it through violence, exploitation, or sheer necessity. the horror of this isn’t just about the exploitation we see today - it’s about how deeply rooted this has been in our societal structures. women’s bodies have always been seen as something to be owned, bought, and sold, whether through arranged marriages, slavery, or the transactional nature of sex work. this history is filled with trauma, degradation, and a loss of agency, where women had to surrender their dignity in order to survive. when we talk about sex work, we need to recognise that this is not a new phenomenon - it’s part of a long legacy of oppression that has seen women’s autonomy stripped away in countless ways. the fact that sex work has been around for so long doesn’t justify it, it just highlights how deeply ingrained the exploitation of women has been throughout history. it’s not just about individual choice - it’s about a system that has perpetuated the commodification of women for centuries. and while we should support those who find themselves in sex work today, we should never forget the larger context that has kept these harmful structures alive for so long. instead of glamorising or normalising it, we need to focus on dismantling the oppressive systems that push women into these situations in the first place, so that no one has to feel that their only path to survival is to sell their body.

beliefs on trans people and the issues with TERF ideolgy

i want to be clear that while i align myself with many radical feminist ideas and am deeply critical of societal gender roles, my views on trans people are firm and unwavering in love and support. i do not, and will never, see trans people as anything other than the gender they align themselves with. whether it’s trans men or trans women, i believe in their right to define their own identity and live it authentically. i’ve always stood against the rigid gender roles society tries to impose on us, and i firmly believe that feminism should be about breaking down those constraints, not enforcing them. so when it comes to trans people, i think they are incredibly important to feminist ideals and feminist goals. trans women, in particular, are an essential part of the feminist movement because they challenge the very notion of what it means to be a woman, broadening our understanding of gender and sex. their struggles are deeply connected to the fight for women’s rights, and their voices are vital in the conversation around gender equality.
i do not and will not align myself with TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminism) ideas. to me, TERF views are not feminism - they are a form of exclusion that runs counter to the very principles of equality and liberation that feminism is meant to stand for. feminism should be a movement that embraces all women, including trans women, because we are all fighting against the same systems of oppression that seek to limit our freedoms based on our gender. i will always stand with trans people, support their rights, and celebrate their identities as valid and essential to the broader feminist struggle. terf ideas are not only harmful to trans women, but they also cause significant harm to cis women, particularly those who don’t fit the narrow, westernised ideals of what a woman should look like. black and poc women, in particular, are often subjected to these harmful standards, as they are frequently marginalised and ridiculed for not adhering to a very specific, often eurocentric, idea of femininity. this is not just about gender—it’s about how race and appearance intersect with gender expectations. women who are more masculine or gender non-conforming, including many lesbians, are also deeply affected by this. the problem is that terf ideology often relies on rigid, traditional views of what “womanhood” should look like, which doesn’t leave room for the beautiful diversity that exists in real women. these women, especially those who don’t fit into the conventional beauty standards of mainstream western culture, are often targeted and misgendered. this means that women who are already marginalised for their appearance or gender expression are at risk of being ridiculed and attacked, as terf rhetoric blurs the line and reduces them to being “not woman enough” simply because they don’t conform.
take the case of the algerian boxer, imane khelif who was bombarded with hateful messages from jk rowling and her followers. this woman, who was simply living her life, was targeted and harassed because of how she looked, with many accusing her of being trans simply because she didn’t meet the mainstream idea of a feminine woman. this is a direct result of terf rhetoric, which insists on policing women’s appearances and expression, creating a toxic environment where cis women, particularly those who are masculine or gender non-conforming, are attacked, misgendered, and erased. at the end of the day, terf ideas harm all women, not just trans women. they create an environment where only one type of woman - usually a white, cis, and conventionally feminine one - is considered valid, and anyone who doesn’t fit that mold is subjected to scrutiny, ridicule, and harm. as feminists, we should be fighting for all women’s rights, regardless of how they express their gender or who they are. the struggle for equality is for every woman, and that includes trans women, lesbians, gender non-conforming women, and women of all races and appearances. we need to fight for a world where all women, in all their diversity, are respected and embraced.

recognising misogyny as a hate crime

now, this is actually the topic i will be doing my phd on from september onwards.
recognising misogyny as a hate crime is an essential step in acknowledging the pervasive and destructive impact of gender-based violence and discrimination. for too long, misogyny has been normalised, minimised, or even dismissed as “just the way things are.” it’s deeply ingrained in our societies and manifests in countless ways—from street harassment and verbal abuse to physical violence and systemic inequality. recognising misogyny as a hate crime would send a strong message that these behaviors are not just socially unacceptable - they are criminal. this recognition is especially crucial when we consider the most extreme and horrific consequences of misogyny: femicides, honour killings, and female genital mutilation (fgm). femicide, the deliberate killing of women because of their gender, is a growing global issue that often goes underreported or dismissed as isolated incidents. honour killings, where women are murdered by family members because their behavior is perceived as bringing shame or dishonor, are rooted in deeply misogynistic beliefs about women’s bodies and autonomy. and female genital mutilation, a brutal practice inflicted on millions of women and girls, is another form of gender-based violence rooted in patriarchal control over women’s sexuality. these acts are not simply crimes.
they are expressions of a society that sees women as property to be controlled, and whose lives are expendable if they challenge male authority or societal norms.
the impact of recognising misogyny as a hate crime goes beyond the legal ramifications. it helps to validate the lived experiences of women and marginalised genders who face everyday discrimination and violence simply because of their gender. misogyny is not just an individual issue; it’s a structural one that permeates institutions, workplaces, media, and even law enforcement. by acknowledging misogyny as a hate crime, we shift the conversation from blaming individuals for their actions to addressing the root causes of this harmful behavior and the cultural structures that uphold it. one of the most crucial impacts of recognising misogyny as a hate crime is that it would force society to take the problem seriously. it would require law enforcement to investigate and treat gender-based violence with the gravity it deserves, rather than dismissing it or failing to address it adequately. it could lead to stronger policies, better protection for victims, and harsher consequences for perpetrators. more importantly, it would challenge the culture that allows misogyny to thrive in the first place. it also shifts the narrative from viewing misogyny as an isolated problem to seeing it as part of a broader system of oppression. misogyny is not just about individual men being hostile toward women - it’s about a society that teaches people, from a young age, to view women as less-than, as objects, or as deserving of violence. recognising misogyny as a hate crime would force us to confront these deeply ingrained attitudes and start dismantling the systems that allow them to persist. but perhaps most importantly, it would give women and marginalised groups a voice. it would validate their experiences and make clear that society recognises and condemns the violence and discrimination they face. it would help break the silence surrounding gendered violence, making it easier for victims to come forward and seek justice, knowing that their experiences won’t be dismissed or minimised.
misogyny is not just a personal issue - it’s a societal one, and it needs to be treated as such. recognising it as a hate crime is an important step toward holding individuals accountable and creating a world where women and marginalised people can live free from fear, violence, and oppression. from femicides to honour killings to female genital mutilation, these extreme forms of violence are stark reminders of just how far the roots of misogyny run, and why it’s critical that we stand together to end them.