A Woman’s World

Sensitive content: contains allusions to sexual violence, substance abuse, physical abuse, suicide and adult language.

A Woman’s World

Sophia stood back, admiring her work. Driven by a surge of creativity and moved by decisiveness, she had spent the last 6 hours consumed by rage, planning a future that would be worth living for. Sophia was past the point of exhaustion, having not slept properly since the ’incident’. Yet, in her tiredness and hopelessness, she mustered a vision for the year ahead. This year, they would not win.

The vision board was something to behold; a vision for a brighter 2023. The cork board was littered with coloured papers and shreds of magazines, pins glistening in the dim light of Sophia’s dreary lounge. In the early hours of New Year's Day, Sophia was finally ready to close the door on a year of misery. She examined the board again, ensuring she had covered all bases. Proud of her accomplishment, she was suddenly excited at the prospect of actioning her plan. 

Across the top of the board hung a paper chain of various coloured links. Sophia remembered how much fun she had making these with her mum, when she was a little girl. One evening, her dad came home from the betting shop, a little unsteady on his feet. Although Sophia was just a girl, no more than eight or nine, she remembered vividly how her dad had torn the chains down from the wall. He threw the scraps of paper to the floor and then threw a chair for good measure. It was the last time she ever saw him. Making paper chains lost its appeal after that. Sophia had thought it fitting to make one for her vision board though. The paper chain hung innocently across the board but scribbled inside each link, was a name of a man who had hurt and abused Sophia; sometimes brutally and obviously, and sometimes so discreetly it went unnoticed until now. All the links formed a chain of oppression Sophia had battled with over the last year. 

Her finger circled around the first link in the chain that read: ‘boss’. Perry Wood was a man of fine standing in the company. He always won. So, when he asked Sophia to take her clothes off in his office one night whilst working late, Sophia’s resounding “no”, echoed through his winning-streaked ego. The next morning was all smiles and shrugs of shoulders, as Perry awkwardly asked if Sophia had mentioned the ’incident’ to anyone else. Sophia remembered how her once budding career, came to a sudden halt. From that day on, she was ‘office bitch.’ Good for fetching tea and hanging coats. A degree in business and a masters in ethical business management, amounting to boiling kettles and massaging egos. 

This wasn't Sophia's only woe in life. The whole vision board, was directed towards ensuring that Sophia could live in a world without men. She recalled how men had hurt her at every opportunity. Slowly circling the links in her paper chain, being careful not to get cut again, she read, ’absent father’, ' alcoholic ex-husband' and ’rapist’. 

She smiled as her attention was drawn to the half-burnt bra hanging down the side of the board. Despite popular belief, bras were not made for women. Every woman, in every country around the world, has a shared, daily desire... take off bra. Uncomfortable, lacy frills, pinned with a metal bar that cuts like a knife and sits on your ribs threatening to puncture your lungs. Bras were invented for men. Whether it’s push-up, plunge or balcony, bras are a man’s world. Even the modest t-shirt bra ensures that a man sees perfect lady lumps, with no dips or bumps out of place. Perfect, plump, handfuls; an ’incident' waiting to happen. Sophia assumed that hanging such flammable attire over a lit hob, would surely blaze with splendid display. She smiled, remembering her disappointment as it silently singed around the edges before being extinguished by its own desire to remain intact. 

The point of this board, was imagining a new world for 2023. At the bottom of the board, Sophia had placed a cut out of her dream home. A wooden cabin, sustainable and strong. Set in lush forestry and surrounded by Mother Nature herself. Sophia envisioned her new life, reclaiming her inner-goddess and escaping a world tyrannised by men. This safe-haven was going to be a place for all women, hurt by patriarchy. Sophia was going to create a new Eden. An Eden before the forbidden fruit and before male gods had claimed the world and trampled on all that was feminine, turning her in to an adulteress prostitute whose only desire and purpose in life was to please men. 

The vision board, created whilst smoking the dream smoke in a haze of blissful simplicity, stood boldly, daring Sophia to act. A haven for victims of male abuse, invited to start again and reclaim the freedom that was taken from them. Sophia searched the board, wondering if such a world was possible. Her eyes came to rest on an article pinned to the board. Red pen encircled part of the text: 

Having no credible evidence, the court had no choice but to drop all charges against Larson Bradley, dissolving the case and concluding the incident to be a misunderstanding on the part of the alleged victim. 

Sophia had highlighted the word, ‘incident', remembering how Larson had pinned her against the wall, one hand around her neck and the other under her skirt. Her ripped underwear and blood-stained clothes were not enough to convince the policeman on duty that night, that Sophia had been attacked on the way home. Recalling the failures in the system, Sophia had written the questions whilst shaking with rage: “Why were you walking alone at 3am?” 

”Do you normally wear this kind of provocative clothing?”

 ”Are you sure you didn't consent?”

Men supporting men. This is a man’s world and Sophia wanted no part in it. She had considered taking her life before the fireworks began. After her divorce, she was left with nothing but debt and the crushing weight of responsibility. It would have been so easy to end it all, but, as she sat there alone having drunk two bottles of cheap wine, Sophia had an awakening. The system was built for her to lose. No matter what she did or how she did it, she would not win. So, instead of taking her life, she took a pair of scissors and a stapler and made a paper chain that she knew she could break. She singed her bra gleefully, knowing that 2023 would be different because she was going to create a new system. Sophia was getting out now, whilst she had breath in her lungs and life in her limbs. Vision for 2023: create a WOMAN’S world. 

Today was the day that she would pack her bags and leave all of this behind. The cloud of depression and anxiety would dissolve away, as Sophia stepped into a world in which she was no longer doomed to fail. She was finally going to escape this hell. Satan was a male angel who fell from heaven and landed on his feet, but Sophia was a phoenix who would rise from the ash of half smoked spliffs and badly burnt bras. She would cut herself lose from all men who want to ’love her’ and ’own her’ and ’need her’, and she would reclaim a little slice of this world for herself, along with any women who would want to join her. 

Sophia stood, still giddy with the promise of a fresh start. She walked the length of her lounge, turned into the hallway and faced the door to a new beginning. As she reached out her hand, clammy with excitement, she heard the voice that would pull her back from her lofty peak. 

“Mummy.”

As Sophia turned, she looked upon her son, half ashamed and half defeated. His unkempt hair and neglected hygiene made Sophia collapse with guilt. Sitting in the hallway, with her vision board out of reach, Sophia pulled her knees up to her chest and lowered her head, crying into her own prison, alone in her pain. Trapped by her female nature, she knew, this was one man she could not run from.