Aaaaah, Australia. The wide brown land for me…
I’m a white Australia who has the luck of being born to a family with at least three previous generations who were also born in Australia. I am, however, still female.
That means my uterus is not always mine to govern. My pay is not the same as a male counterpart. The fact that I am highly likely to experience sexual harassment (or worse) at the hands of a colleague at my place of employ doesn’t even begin to tell you how work isn’t always a safe place for someone like me.
Sure, I get to experience a longer life, and I can hope to spend that time just living life, right? Oh. No?
Well, at least I’m not likely to be killed by my partner. No? Wrong again? Gods be damned!
It could always be worse.
I could be gay and unable to marry my same-sex partner, instead of bisexual and in a heterosexual-presenting relationship.
Or a migrant, instead of born here.
Or someone seeking asylum, instead of safe and relatively free from oppressive regimes.
Or an indigenous Australian.
Or a farmer.
Or someone who lived by the sea.
But no. Instead, I am an average white female who has everything going for her and nothing to lose but her way of life in this, the lucky country we call Australia.