I’ve never understood The Fear of Missing Out. I have the exact opposite. I’m always delighted when I am not invited places, when I don’t have to hang around at parties for hours or make small talk to strangers at dinner parties. I never mind being excluded.
But these Women’s Marches. I have serious FOMO.
First, I find marching irresistible. I once found myself marching with the ANC and it was terrible and I knew it was a mistake but the vibe was so infectious that I just kinda got caught up in it.
The ANC by the way used to be an excellent political organisation. Today they’ve lost the plot completely, plus they have a president who is a thief, a liar and a misogynist.
Sound familiar? Exactly.
These American and worldwide Women’s Marches. Man! They are, I think, life changing. They’re a moment in history; the start of everything changing.
A moment, many moments, that make me feel everything is going to be okay.
The camaraderie, astonishing support and coming together of all the kind, decent, compassionate, democratic, creative wonderful people of whom there are literally millions, is overwhelmingly positive.
Not one violent incident with millions marching worldwide.
There are good people in this world. They’re not giving in. Or up. And it seems they, we, are all coming together to change things.
And I had real FOMO. I wish I could’ve joined in. I wish there’d been a march here in Johannesburg. I wish I could’ve braved the heat, or the cold, painted a sign with love and flowers and vaginas and peace signs and joined in.
But I’m also so damn thankful.
These women have started something huge. And apart from the pussy hats which I’m not mad about, it is time to reclaim our pussies, fight for equality, fight for peace, punch Nazis in the nose, and say no to anyone who is racist, sexist, xenophobic, misogynistic or just a cunt.
Thanks women. Thanks men. Thanks babies and dogs and bears that marched.
Now let’s get it together in South Africa. And change everything that needs changing too.
Pic – NY Magazine.