If there's one thing I'm bored of hearing when I ask to be treated equally to a man, it is 'you take yourself too seriously'... Humour, we're told, is a boys' game. Men are taught that their friendships should be forged in pranks and banter, while women are instructed to take the serious stuff - problems, worries and secrets - to their female friends.
You know what's cool? Sticking together as a gender and showing our strength through our ability to support and encourage each other. Not bitching each other out by posting a picture on the internet, encouraging outsiders to laugh at the fact that women died so that we have rights.
My book is a memoir about my life with intrusive sexual thoughts, and it's pretty hard to write about that stuff and not drop the M-bomb. Besides, titillation would never be a problem for a young man in my position, with my mental condition.
The feminist debate has been written in so many ways, in so many forms, that it is impossible to fathom. But for all the white, Western, masculine tendons that press this article to life, I would classify myself as a 'feminist'.
This is what I've noticed about advertising (it's not a recent development, but I've been having such a dedicated, nightly liaison with Netflix that I've avoided television adverts for quite some time); only women like yoghurt. Particularly, women like eating yoghurt alone, in profile with their eyes shut.
"He treats me so well. Although he always wants to have butt sex... I say no he does it anyway, which is annoying... and he's just like 'Imogen; you have to'... One time he had so much sex with me that I passed out and then he fed me crackers! It's not as bad as it sounds."
This girl could have had a husband, a tiara, a baby, a title, a palace, and her own specialised bottom minder by now. She could have been defined by her slimness, her reproductive abilities, and how long she could spend waving to commoners before her arm got tired. Instead, she's free to do whatever the hell she wants with her life.
With hair flowing beneath the signature red and white polka dot headscarf, chin raised and facial expression confident; she lifts her rolled up denim jumpsuit to reveal one very nicely toned and bulging bicep. On her left hand, her golden wedding ring shines.
If there were a competition for false advertising, the much-talked-about trailer for the Fifty Shades of Grey movie would walk away with first prize... If we move from the trailer to the book, the sex isn't so much hot as violent and dehumanizing. Christian has a thing for what is generally called sadomasochism in the popular press, but in the book what we see is pure sadism carried out by a sophisticated predator who knows how to groom vulnerable girls. The most likely real-world ending of Fifty Shades of Grey is fifty shades of black and blue.
This is exasperating. In a world where the prevalence of inherent sexism, homophobia and transphobia is rife, why would individuals who actively defy these ills insist on continuing and supporting relationships with alleged predators?
I simply ask the modern day feminists of western society: What are you fighting for? You have the right to vote, you have the right to education, and you even have the right to voice these opinions. If anything you have it made.
We all deserve a cheerleader, a champion, an equal. I've taken it this far, and I've done it goddamn well. If this is life alone, then life in a partnership - a coupling where we make each other better, compensate for weaknesses and amplify strengths - well, s**t. That'd be some life.
I am what some would refer to as a slut. The word slut traditionally comes with negative connotations. It implies the owner of such a label is promiscuous and out of control. It is used as a derogatory term, as an insult or with intention to offend. Insulted? Offended? Not in the slightest.
I'm not sure about you but I'm still figuring things out as I go along - and I don't think there is any shame in that. We might not always like what we hear but we've got to respect it all the same. The power of debate is rooted in our differences and imperfections. The tide of subsequent social and political change relies as much on our ears as our mouths.
Teenage girls across the world are publicly rejecting feminism. Now, excuse me one moment while I get inside my bomb shelter, but I can kind of see their point...
It may surprise you to hear that, as a woman living in the 21st Century, I had spent my entire life believing that Feminism didn't concern me. I thought the issue (yep, just the one!) had gone away. At school, I could wear trousers just like the boys if I wanted to. Of course, I didn't, they were horrible, but the option was there if I felt that strongly about it. I didn't.