I’d never heard of Kate Leth until yesterday, but now I’m sitting here giving serious consideration to funding her on Patreon. The reason? This essay, that arrived via Twitter to my door yesterday. Occasionally someone talks so much sense it is almost an epiphany, not simply about the complexities of sexuality but also around the issues of committing yourself to any contentious endeavour online. Sometimes, you have to just brace yourself, screw your courage to the sticking post, and just get the fuck on with why you’re here.

I’m here to write the words I want. The only time that changes is when someone pays me to write about things they want.¬†It is incredibly simple to just switch off your brain when words come as habit and produced thousands upon thousands of pages of bland, stress free prose. It is incredibly simple to understand where the emotion stops and the maturity starts. Once you’re capable of divorcing the two, it’s a whole new world that opens up around your literary capacity, and that does mean that occasionally, when you switch to Passionate Advocate mode, you stand a chance of upsetting someone.

However, I have a secret to share with you. Often the reason these people become so indignant isn’t because they feel you’ve misrepresented their ideals or tarnished their beliefs. Sometimes, this person thought they knew you better.¬†They’d created an online relationship with you that didn’t exist, that meant they’d filled in details about your personality they really never grasped, and you’ve never shared. Yup, occasionally you’ll get the certifiable nutter who just wants to jump on your corpse until it’s flat, but often it’s a lot easier to rationalise. This person expected better of you.¬†The reader decided you¬†are bigger than this.


Except the larger¬†hurdle to vault as a content creator is that it is not necessary or a requirement for you to dissect every argument you have as a result of your output, because if that happens you do eventually go insane.¬†If it is someone you genuinely care about, then maybe that’s a possibility, but in all other cases you do just walk away and let it go (insert GIF of choice here.) As a woman, it is sad to say that I get mansplained almost now on a daily basis. It has become one of the acceptable hazards of continuing to stick my breasts and arse into a space where, on any given day, those things are more important¬†than my actual ability to write.¬†

In the end it is often as simple as the words¬†I choose to¬†use in my Tweet, when a post is initially advertised, that will decide my fate for a day. If I wish to court Drama, the right words are very easy to choose. In this case, if you’re reading this from a link via Twitter, well done for doing so, because on any given day this place is lucky to pull double figures, yet is remains the most consistently accurate place to really¬†learn why I do this. Most people don’t care until they feel you’ve aggrieved them, after all, and then the sky falls with depressing consistency.

Maybe the trick is to stop judging random strangers to begin with.

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