At first glance, you wouldn’t expect that I’d be the person who suffers daily from stigma. I’m white, conventionally attractive. I finished High school, then Uni, and now work in the arts. My house is clean and tidy, I pay all my bills and I appear to function in a relatively normal way.

On the inside none of these things are true, and I can’t talk about it beyond vague-ities because there’s this gigantic cloud of stigma waiting to rain on this lovely little life I’ve struggled to build. I exist behind this perfectly manicured mask of functionality, and I’m acutely aware of the dire long term consequences if it slips.

My experience of stigma is never being able to exist as yourself safely in a majority of spaces. It’s not feeling safe to reach out to systems and supports that are supposed to be able to help you because the label carries more risk then suffering in silence and pretending to be fine. It’s watching people exhaustingly raise awareness all the time, yet not seeing politicians make systemic changes that will actually help.

I’m one of the lucky ones. The stigma I experience isn’t directed at me, because I pass, and I spend all my spoons to continue passing. It’s exhausting.
My heart aches for all those who can’t escape whatever stigma affects them. It’s not fair, but what’s the solution? I can only observe what the solution is not.

Things change too slowly. The pace of change makes me so angry. It doesn’t have to be like this, but it is, was and continues to be like this.

About the look: On a more positive note, how fun is this vaguely 90’s grunge inspired look !? I bought the fabric for this skirt almost 10 years ago now from my favourite little vintage shop located in Woy Woy. It sat there, in my stash, begging to be made into clothes for so long, not because I didn’t love it, but because there was so little of it.
I couldn’t resist leaning into the yellow of the tartan pattern, hence allllll the yellow.