The Night Guest

by Hildur Knútsdóttir

it’s a lot easier to gather your courage when you’re not dead tired.

Because there is nothing worse than having unexplained symptoms. Feeling like there’s something terribly wrong—but nothing that can be measured in exams, and you know the doctor thinks it’s all in your head.

(why do men always have to take up so much space?)

Centuries of socialization have conditioned us into believing that it’s our responsibility to create a cozy atmosphere and ensure that no one is embarrassed about anything. That’s why we laugh at jokes that offend us. That’s why we smile at people who pat us on the butt. That’s why we pretend that it’s just a coincidence when the boss repeatedly brushes against our breasts at work. Because anything else would be just so embarrassing. For everybody.

The patriarchy whispers to me that no man wants to sleep with a woman who is too skinny.

The patriarchy speaks with my mother’s voice.