Chanti's diary

Not all stories start on a rainy day, mine actually started on a bright and sunny afternoon. I was at work on my latest manuscript (Alleria) and had just decided to work out my notes that I had been making while sitting in the sun. My milk white winter skin was starting to get that hint of strawberry tint, so I had to run for cover. I was just forming a sentence in my head to jot down, when a soft knock on my door took me out of my thoughts. Immediately I rolled my eyes, because the knock sounded decidedly child-like. Either Elora was too lazy to walk around and come in through the back door, or some of her friends were here to pick her up (and she wasn’t in) Reluctantly I opened the door and saw three giggling blond boys standing in front of me. The front one told me that Elora was ‘back there’ (as he pointed at the playground) and that she was hurt. I didn’t panic. My kid is always ‘hurt’. She has a pain threshold that is so low, you would lose sight of it in low cut grass.

Once upon a time groups of people in different societies decided what the rules were regarding sexuality and love. Luckily for us those rules have already evolved a lot throughout the centuries—or we’d still have crazy laws like ‘Prima Nocta’—but we still have a long way to go (especially in less developed parts of the world).  Different societies have different rules, and even here in the West there is quite some disagreement about what is ‘acceptable’ when it comes to relationships. Because, of course, it’s everyone’s business who other people love consensually. #sarcasm. And yet we all have opinions about what others do. There are those who go as far as ruining people’s lives (or even taking them) because they don’t share the same sexual desires. Or perhaps because they do, but that’s a whole other discussion… I’ve been lucky being born where I was, surrounded by the people who are part of my life. No one blinked when I realized I was bi-sexual. It was just normal. I did