Fight Like A Girl

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Fight Like A Girl Page 27

by Clementine Ford


  Those days are long gone. My voice is strong and imposing, and my legs are powerful enough to hold up its weight. I wake up every day feeling assured of my right to not only participate in the world as an equal part of it, but to loudly reject the narrative that keeps trying to tell me to pipe down, fold in, shrivel up, simper, apologise and slink my way through life so as not to offend or upset anyone with the complicated, beautiful mess that is me. I have fought the odds to get here, empowered by the knowledge that every single woman who has come before me has fought her own battle in order to survive. We fight like girls. This is how we prevail. And this is why we’re still standing.

  This book is a love letter to the girls. I see you, even if history doesn’t. I hear you, even when the present won’t.

  I wrote this book for you.

  The future, we can write together.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book has been the culmination of so many things, not least of which has been the good faith and support shown to me by so many people over the years. Anything I say will be woefully inadequate in comparison to what they’ve given me, but I’ll make an imperfect attempt anyway. Firstly, to the incomparable Jane Palfreyman at Allen & Unwin. I could not be prouder to be making this book with you and your team. Your encouragement has been a gift only eclipsed by the strength of your critical eye. Thank you for feeling like you needed to fight hard to have me, but I can assure you that the privilege has been entirely mine.

  To Ali Lavau and Christa Munns, who took something that at times felt to me like a decaying lump of cow dung and shaped it into an elegant structure even the most self-critical author would be thrilled to put their name to. You killed my darlings for me and I am in your debt for the rest of eternity.

  To Tami Rex, Karen Williams, Caitlin Withey, Louise Cornege and Catherine Donaldson: your combined talent and expertise is going to sell this book for me. I thank you sincerely for that, because I love money.

  Thank you to Jacinta di Mase, who is quite literally the best agent anyone could ask for. Thank you for your guidance and support, and for navigating me through waters far beyond my ability to sail in alone. I look forward to your captaincy for years to come, if you’ll continue to have me as a deckhand. Thank you also to Clare Wright, rebel historian and certified brainbox, who encouraged me to contact Jacinta and unlocked the next level in this whole process.

  To Sarah Oakes, Candice Chung and Natalie Hambly, my editors at Daily Life. Thank you for being unrelenting in your willingness to back me over the years. I’ve said this to each of you, but I’ll commit it to paper here: you will always have my loyalty. Daily Life has been so instrumental in reinvigorating feminist dialogue and activism in Australia and I am so proud and grateful to have been given a chance to be a part of that. The deepest of thanks also to Nat Reilly, who provided such fantastic editorial and emotional support during the first few years of Daily Life’s existence. You rock my world.

  Thank you to my girl gangs. Good golly, I am one of the luckiest girls alive to be surrounded by so many sensational women. To my Adelaidies: Melissa Vine, Anais Chevalier, Anna Svedberg, Penny Chalke and Emily Ohannessian. You were my gateway drug into feminism. May we still be drinking cheap wine and making cheaper jokes well into the nursing home years. To the members of the OSC, Celeste, Cecilia, Ruby, Jane et al.: thank you for being the sounding board for large-scale ranting and reassurance. I learn from you every day. To the What’sApp crew, Fyfey, Pop, Maim, Tui and Swishy – you guys make me laugh and laugh. The world needs more close-up videos of lip flapping in slow motion, that’s for sure.

  To Rachel Thorne, you are the most beautiful woman alive and I want to marry you and kiss you all over your face. To Heather Stewart, who helps my heart to breathe easier. I cannot imagine a world in which you don’t exist. To Michelle Dicinoski, who is one of the most frighteningly intelligent people I’ve ever met. I treasure you dearly. Thank you for being one of this book’s first readers. You are beloved aunt to both of my babies, and I couldn’t ask for better.

  Thank you also to my dear friend Anna Branford, whose passionate reading of the first draft gave me the confidence to think I had something worth saying. Anna, may we share many more walks and craft days as the years go by!

  Amy Gray, you are the light of my life. Thank you for the late-night chats, the endless coffee, the writing solidarity and companionship. I cannot wait to read my name in your acknowledgements list one day. Please note that I will never stop posting ‘London Still’ on your Facebook wall.

  Thank you to the numerous people who so generously gave me keys to their empty houses so I could steal myself away and write furiously. To Marieke Hardy, Jenny Valentish, Justin Healey, Marion Campbell and Warren Walker, you are perfect humans. Thank you also to the team at Varuna, whose provision of a two-week residency allowed me the time and space to write major portions of this book. It is a great fortune indeed to be able to write in places like Daylesford, Castlemaine, Golden Beach and the Blue Mountains, and I thank you all from the bottom of my bottomless cups of tea.

  To a special little girl, Anja Reine, who taught me that I have ‘blood, bones and a beating heart’. You are wise beyond your years.

  Thank you to the inspiring and fierce Caitlin Stasey, who taught me that it’s not always about the people you’re having the conversation with but the people who are listening. Thank you also to the equally brilliant Anne Thériault, who very generously allowed me to appropriate the title of her fantastic feminist website, The Belle Jar. Canada is lucky to have you, Anne. To Chilla Bulbeck and Kellie Grace – you were both my finest teachers, and I’m so grateful to have had you guiding me during those formative years.

  My deepest love goes out to my family. To my father, Steven, who raised me to speak my mind even when he didn’t always like what I had to say. Iron sharpens iron, and I love you so much for making me who I am today. To my brother, Toby, who let me sleep in his room on the nights I was afraid of the dark.

  To my sister, Charlotte, who deserves a paragraph all of her own. How can I ever repay the gods for making you mine? You are a much stronger fighter than you realise. Thank you for loving me the way that you do. I am so proud to call you friend.

  To my mother, Luciana, who fought harder than anyone should have to. You read books to us as children and then placed them under our pillows so the stories would filter into our dreams. Thank you for giving me a love of literature. I wish you were here to see this, but I know you’re looking down from Orion. I hope I’ve done you proud.

  Finally, thank you to my love and my champion: Jesse. You are the anchor that allows me to be the kite. You, me and the babbis – we are water from the same source.

 

 

 


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