The world applauds the woman who cracks the IIT, but immediately gets their knickers in a twist if a woman drinks, parties, or puts herself first. Through the years, women’s magazines have shown women how to fall in love with themselves. Maybe, this is what makes people so uncomfortable.

Until now, Pride protesters have been united in their aims to decriminalise the LGBT+ community’s existence. Today, each attendee faces a different rights battle. But the war rages on for dignity, freedom, and equality, regardless of orientation or gender identity.

I have gone from “not straight” to bisexual to pansexual in a span of five years. I feared if I didn’t identify myself, I’d miss out on my membership to the LGBTQIA+ club. But then I realised the answer to “Who are you?” has never been one size fits all. So, I dropped those limiting identities.

Why do we women squeeze ourselves into undergarments that behave like torture devices accessorised with elastic, bows, and ribbons that are meant to irritate the skin at inopportune moments? I’ve realised you aren’t truly emancipated until the day you find yourself committed to the cause of comfortable drawers.

Male characters in books and pop culture can be disgusting assholes and own that personality, but women characters – barring a few outliers – are mostly pretty, passive, and perfect. Where are the women that behave like jerks simply because they can? Where are our female Sherlock Holmes and Mr Darcy?