The Cactus

by Sarah Haywood

I’m not someone who enjoys the summer; hot weather and its associated shedding of clothes and inhibitions hold no attraction for me.

but it takes a strong and secure person to admit they’ve been a little hasty.

carefully folding over the corner of a page, an uncharacteristic act which made me wince.

‘As far as I’m concerned you don’t have to be all, or even any, of those things to call yourself a feminist. What it boils down to is knowing that women are equal to men, and living that knowledge. It’s about ensuring that equality is recognised in the home, in the workplace, in public life. And it’s about acknowledging that we all – women and men – are strong sometimes, weak sometimes; cool-headed sometimes, emotional sometimes; right sometimes, wrong sometimes. Locking away your feelings and vulnerabilities has got nothing at all to do with it. That’s something else entirely.’

But these days fairy-tale endings come in all shapes and sizes. It’s okay for the princess to end up with the prince, it’s okay for her to end up with the footman, and it’s also okay for her to end up on her own. It’s okay for her to end up with another princess, or with six cats, or to decide she wants to be a prince. None of those make her any more or less a feminist. It’s about finding out who you are and what you want, and then being true to it.’

‘Because I’ve never wanted to be reliant on anyone else,’ I explained. ‘If you have sole charge of your own destiny no one can let you down.’

‘Seems we remember things differently yet again. But truth is subjective; everyone has their own versions. Maybe both of ours are equally valid.’