Bloody Women

Earlier this week we celebrated International Womens’ Day, which always presents the perfect opportunity to reflect on how far women have come and how far we have yet to go in the long march to equality.  Whilst it is true that we have much to celebrate; we now have the vote in many countries, we have prominent females in many sectors including politics, business and science and womens’ issues are now being pushed up the international agenda, there is still an awful long way to go before we can truly say that we enjoy equality with men.  Nowhere is the lack of equality between the genders more apparent than in society’s attitudes towards women and their bodies.  

 

Women are constantly being appraised, not for their abilities, but for their body shapes and their general appearance.  It is not considered enough for a woman to appear neat and tidy; she must also appear aethetically pleasing and match some impossible cultural ideal, which nobody has a cat in hell’s chance of ever attaining or maintaining.  Women and girls who openly refuse or rebel against this are jeered at and made to feel inferior.  

Girls are taught to feel ashamed of their bodies from a young age.  Menstruation is still never really discussed or represented beyond sex education class and even when it is, it is normally referred to either in jest or using half arsed euphomisms, such as “the curse.”  You certainly never see or hear of it being referred to in popular culture.  It is almost as though this very normal part of female biology just does not exist.  We are certainly discouraged from openly discussing anything concerning our menstrual cycle in public, lest we embarress anyone.  It often feels as though women’s bodies are strictly for the purposes of hetero-male titilation and that any discussion or representation of anything that would challenge this is actively discouraged. 

Since the age of sixteen, I have suffered from horrendous pain, fatigue and dizziness.  It afflicts me for at least one week out of every four and yet social etiquette dictates that I must not discuss this in public, even if somebody asks why I am keeled over and screaming in pain.  Thus, when somebody does ask why I am doubled over I must fabricate some vague lie so as not to embarress them or myself.  Not that I am embarressed.  Fourteen years of explaining these symptoms to various medical professionals is enough to make anyone forget their embarressment.  I am a woman and lots of women menstruate.  We should not have to feel or act ashamed of our bodies, simply because society says so.  Only when we can stand up and say, “this is me and this is part of my life and my biology” will we ever be truly liberated!

Let's Facebook It!

 I have recently discovered that many of my friends have opted to leave Facebook altogether.  Whilst initially astounded at this (I mean, it's quite a handy communication tool and not all that bad, really), I have to say that I am becoming more and more sympathetic to their reasoning.  I have found myself thinking of more and more things that I don't like about being on there.  Admittedly, I am one of those people who use the site most days, usually to repost an article or to update my status.  I have often wondered whether I have become one of those frequent Facebookers who annoy other people simply because I post so much that I am actually needlessly filling up other people's newsfeeds.  I don't know what prompted me to do this but I decided to sit down, have a serious think about my Facebook use and note down the main things that I have come to dislike about using the site.  I must point out that this is only my personal opinion and is in no way representative of other users.

1. It gives a false impression of popularity

Remember when we all first signed upto Facebook and were keen to "collect" friends, even friends who we may have only met once or twice?  Aaaah, me too.  Whilst this was initially a fun way of keeping in touch with people like Mike the intern or Jessica who is the friend of a friend's cousin whom you once met at a party, this game soon got boring.  Why?  Because you also found that you were getting friend requests from people who you either barely knew or wish you'd never met, such as the guy with whom you'd had an awkward snog in year eight.  I am coming around to the belief that there are some people with whom we are only supposed to have a passing and polite acquaintance (clients, for example) and nothing more.  Yet, with the advent of Facebook we were all suddenly supposed to become besties.  Before we know it, we have 748 "friends," many of whom we probably wouldn't say hello to if we saw them in the street.  Furthermore, we are sharing our most treasured moments and lowest thoughts with these people, who probably don't even care. Out of these 748 "friends," there are probably only about four people who we could genuinely count as friends.

2. It makes us socially competitive

OK, so most of us have moved on from the whole friend collecting game. That got boring when we realised the home truths that I spelt out in point one. However, this by no means that the competition's over. We are now competing over who has the best life. Don't pretend you don't have a sneak peek through profiles of exes/ school acquaintances “just to see what they are up to these days” and then get all downbeat when you realise that they are travelling the world/ sitting on the exec board of a major blue chip company/ starting their own school for impoverished school children in Mozambique, whilst you are stuck in your “dead end” job and your rancid rented flat. The thing is that you actually enjoy your job and you love your flat. Or you did until you logged into Facebook and found out that the numpty who made your life hell at school is living the life of Riley. Sometimes there is simply no justice in this world. There, I've hit the nail on the head for you. You are usually happy with your lot until you start comparing it to that of others.

The main problem here is the saturation of information. We can only really compare things if we know what we are comparing, which means that we would need to find out about somebody else's life in order to compare it with ours. Prior to Facebook, we would have either come by this information if we had spoken to the person in question or if we had had it passed to us via somebody else in the know. Now that we have Facebook, we don't have to rely on this information being passed to us simply by chance. Now we can snoop when we most feel inclined to do so and that can often be when we are bored or at a low ebb anyway. It goes without saying that this can lead us to become rather miserable and more prone to just fixating on what other people have rather than on what we want to achieve in our own lives. It's a slippery slope down, folks.

3. People only post what they want us to know

This is closely related to point number two. When we are truly fixating on the reasons why one of our “friends” has it all whilst we are really struggling, we fail to take into account the fact that we are not seeing a true representation of that person's life. I'm not saying that it is all pure fantasy, although there are some people who probably do fabricate their entire lives on Facebook. What I am saying though, is that people manage their online persona in the way that many of us try to manage our offline image. Users will post the statuses, photos and videos that they feel best represent the person that they want to be rather than the person that they actually are. That person who seems to always be down the pub having a whale of a time with friends whilst you're sitting at home watching Gogglebox and eating the remains of last night's pizza is probably no more of a social butterfly than you are. Those photos were probably taken over the previous weekend, you know, the weekend where you were also out having a few bevvies with your friends.

Conversely, you will very seldom find a person that wants to broadcast the breakdown of their relationship or their forthcoming disciplinary proceedings on Facebook. Oh, I know that some people do. But generally most people don't. Things go badly for all of us at some point but most of us prefer to only focus on the positive and amusing stuff, which can give the impression that we are all super happy and amazingly successful all of the time.

4. It kicks off rows in the real world

This has never happened to me personally but I have heard of it happening. There isn't much of a need to elaborate much more with this one. Suffice it to say, that it is really easy to just type a thoughtless comment and even easier for that comment to be misconstrued (or understood perfectly, as the case may be).

5. It negates the need for effort

Hands up, who has assumed that, just because they have sent somebody a message on or via Facebook that this is enough? I know that I have fallen into this trap before and I am now beginning to truly count the cost of this assumption. Why? Because I suspect that the same is being done to me. The difficult thing is that it is not personal and nor is it wilful. The person means well. They are busy but at least they are still finding time to like and comment on your grumpy cat memes. In some ways, the whole concept of Facebook cheapens friendship to a few soundbites and likes.

Here's the thing. As entertaining as your memes and statuses are, they are no substitute for taking an afternoon of your free time and just spending it talking to somebody who you actually care about and want to talk to. To coin my mother's saying “you only get out what you put in” and if all you put in is a generic “look at me” every so often, then maybe that's all you deserve back.

6. It has become a barometer of our self worth
   Again, this one is pretty much self explanatory and risks repeating the previous points but it is still an important point in its own right. Intellectually, we know that we are worth more than a mere Facebook page, which doesn't even have a physical manifestation. However, if you spend too much time on there as I have been guilty of doing, then you can begin to see it as some sort of reflection on you. The lack of responses to posts can become something of a suggestion that you yourself are not an interesting, worthwhile individual. Facebook can be something of a virtual school yard in this respect. Whilst doing research for this post I can across a problem page by a woman who was becoming depressed because very few people responded to anything she posted. Naturally, some participants told her to grow up and get a life outside of Facebook, which seemed harsh and easier said than done. It also made me question whether Facebook was the problem in this case. Maybe, just maybe, this woman already suffers from very low self esteem and her Facebook usage is her way of trying to overcome this by galvanising positive attention. If this is what is going on in this case then maybe the problem isn't Facebook but the user's expectations.
   
   
    By this logic, it would seem that it is not Facebook that is the problem but the way that some of us choose to use it and the importance that we place upon it. I can't tell you why people are choosing to delete their profiles. No doubt there are a whole swathe of studies that can tell you why different types of people have decided to switch off and either move to a different social network or abandon the whole concept of social media altogether. What I will say is this; the problem is not Facebook. The problem is with the individual and how they use it. It can only really reflect life. If you do not feel contented in your life offline, the chances are that Facebook will not make you happy or fulfilled either. It exists as a social network to help you to maintain contact. It will not reconcile you to people from your past who you dislike; it will not make you a better friend and it certainly won't give you better social skills. We need to stop trying to use things as quick fixes and substitutes for taking real and positive action. Whilst you won't necessarily need to delete your profile to achieve this, it might be an idea to limit the amount of time and energy you spend on there if you do feel that using it is having a negative impact on your life.

Drinking Out Loud!

 Well, that's January done and dusted-or, as it has come to be known within some orders of British society, Dry January. For those of you not in the know, Dry January is an initiative that has been thought up to make us re-evaluate our relationship with alcohol by challenging us to give up the stuff for an entire month. Presumably, the hope is that if we manage to make it through to February without touching a drop of alcohol, we will realise that we don't need it to have a good time and will be much more inclined to drink in moderation in future. This may sound like it should be a fairly obvious and somewhat common way of thinking but let me tell you, it appears to be much less obvious and common than you would want to think.

As someone who has a very low tolerance for alcohol and by that I mean that it only takes a tiny amount of the stuff to make me ill, I am fed up of constantly having to justify my lack of indulgence to other people. I get that people are trying to make sure that I have a good time by insisting that I drink as much as them. I also understand that some of the best stories involve alcohol fuelled debauchery and that if you do not drink much you can be perceived as something of a geek. Look, I grew up in a provincial northern town where there was little more to do than drink, take drugs and have sex but I still resent the notion that it is not possible to have a good time without drinking enough to cause you to barf up your entire digestive system. I have battled against this assumption ever since I was old enough to go go out drinking and it is getting a little bit annoying. Like many other moderate drinkers, I feel resentful of the constant need to explain why my orange juice doesn't contain vodka or why I'm nipping off home early. Why must non-drinkers always have to state “not for me because I'm driving/ on medication/ tired/ working the next day” as though drinking to excess is somehow part of your day job that you're trying to shirk. By rights, we should just be able to say “no thanks” or “an orange juice for me please” without feeling the need to justify our choices all of the time. Come on guys, non-drinkers and moderate drinkers can be a laugh too (isn't it sad that I feel the need to point this out!), you don't have to constantly badger us to keep up pace with you if we can't/ don't want to. You must also stop assuming that we are not having fun just because we happen to be more sober than the rest of you. The chances are, we are sitting back and enjoying your garbled conversations and sordid confessions much more than you are. We will also enjoy repeating these back to you whilst showing you the grainy footage of your drunken antics whilst you're vomiting up your digestive system the following morning.

Suffice it to say that I didn't participate in Dry January because I didn't really see the point. I don't think that my relationship with alcohol needs re-evaluating. I do, however, think I need to learn how to upload video footage onto the likes of YouTube because this might just MIGHT persuade some of my clan to re-evaluate their relationship with alcohol.

Twenty Four Hour Party Poopers

Every so often a story makes it into the news that makes you question whether you have tripped over and stumbled into some parallel universe where absolutely nothing makes sense and everything contravenes all that you previously understood to be normal, rational behaviour. The most recent example was the story about the five year old boy who was sent an invoice for £15.95 for failing to attend the birthday party of a classmate. 

This begs many questions, the main two being: why was this even in the national news (by extension, why am I even blogging about it) and why would anyone spend £15.95 per head on a party for five year olds? I'm not saying that five year olds don't deserve to have fun, particularly when it is their birthday. What I am saying, however, is that they would probably enjoy and value a much simpler set up with a group of friends, simple buffet food and fun party games just as much, if not more, than something more pricey and lavish. Of course, some of the other parents with whom you're competing may disagree with this but that's their problem. Your child's party is not and should never be about trying to impress anyone other than the child whose birthday it is. Let's face it, very young children do not have any concept of how much things cost and will therefore not feel obliged to be impressed by something that has cost a small fortune to plan and execute. We've all seen and heard of toddlers and young children who, upon Christmas Day, prefer to play with the box over and above its overpriced content. This is probably because children have something called an imagination and enjoy making up their own realities and narratives rather than becoming overly involved in the material realities that surround them. It is adults who care about the cost and appearance of things, not children. OK, I'm willing to conceded that many older children are into doing big, expensive activities but small children? No. Small children just like kicking back, running round and eating whatever the hell they like whilst in the presence of friends. That is what children value. I'm not getting at parents for wanting to make a child's birthday special and memorable. However, I cannot help but wonder whether there is a certain amount of competitive parenting at work here? Although not a parent myself, I do have friends who are and they tell stories of parents competing with regards to the virtues of their offspring and the holidays, gifts and parties that their said offspring can hope to enjoy thanks to their amazing parenting. One of my friends told me a dreadful story about how she had put a lot of time and effort into making a special birthday party for her little boy, only to overhear a group of parents bitching about how the music wasn't very good and how the whole party seemed “cheap.” This had, understandably, upset my friend who had done her absolute best to give her son a happy and memorable birthday only to have other parents (not children) berate her for it. If this demonstrates one thing other than the rudeness of some people it is this: children's parties have become too much about the parents and not enough about the children. It has become more about parents showing off to each other than giving a child a happy birthday. And so it is with these parents.

You see, the grievance is between the parents not the children. At the very worst, the birthday boy may have felt a little miffed at being let down but would have then perked up and had fun with his friends who had turned up. I very much doubt he would have clung to the grudge had his parents not chosen to make an issue of it in the way that they did. One of the many virtues of small children is that they do not hold grudges in the way that adults do. It is the adults here who are at fault. Of course, the parents of the no-show should have done the considerate thing and let the parents of the birthday boy know that he would be unable to attend, rather than just not showing up. According to the version of the story I have read, they did not have contact details for birthday boy's parents, which has to be one of the lamest excuses I have ever heard. For one thing, why would you not put contact details on an invitation when you want and expect people to respond. Furthermore, we live in the age of mass communication. Even if you don't know somebody's contact details, somebody else in your circle more than likely will. Could these parents not have thought of a way of finding said contact details or relaying the message to the parents another way? They could have, for example, got one of the other parents to contact birthday boy's family on their behalf or slipped a message into birthday boy's satchel. However they chose to communicate the message would have been much more considerate than just not letting them know at all. 

Having said that, I'm not in favour of billing somebody for not showing up. It just seems petty and, despite birthday boy's parents saying that it's not about the money, it makes it precisely about the money. I understand that there is a principal here and there may well have a point in that when you say that you will attend an event you should either honour your word or let the host know that you will be unable to do so. That is basic consideration, which is something that many people seem to think is lacking in today's self centred society. I am all for expressing your disappointment when you've been let down by somebody but I question the way that these parents went about doing it. Aside from the financial issue; there is also a feeling that this is underhand and, yes, immature. Why was it that these people did not feel able to approach the other parents and have an open discussion with them about why they and their son were disappointed? I can wager that this would have probably been much more effective than simply slipping an invoice into a child's school bag. Who knows? The parents may have even offer to pay up or make it up to the birthday boy another way. Instead you have two sets of parents dominating the news and social media with their adultish falling outs and two little boys who will probably grow up to be very embarrassed about their parents' behaviour.

Wedding belles and feminist hell

I don’t know whether I have shared this piece of lovely but ultimately useless information with you yet but I’m getting married next year.  Don’t worry; I’m not about to morph into one of those dickheads who constantly rambles on about wedding dresses, seating plans and table tat.  I wouldn’t be mentioning it now if it didn’t provide me with a context for my latest rant.

So, today my partner and I went to a wedding fair.  I had visions of it being full of over-enthusiastic business proprietors trying to flog their wares, most of which are very pretty but largely inconsequential, to a load of overenthusiastic wannabe princesses and their pushy mothers.  I wasn’t far wrong.

On arrival, we were greeted by the sight of a Bentley and some other classic vehicle, which were suitably blinged up for the occasion and flower arrangements that would have made Chelsea Flower Show look woefully amateurish.  There were also the cursory bewildered looking fathers and boyfriends who had presumably been dragged there against their will (I felt their pain).  All this was set to a soundtrack of wedding ballads being played by what were, admittedly, two very talented violinists.  Thus, I was choking back my disdain before even entering the building.  Things didn’t improve any when we actually entered: we were greeted by a very jaded looking woman who didn’t seem all that interested either in us or in the event itself (though, to be fair, by this point she had probably overheard more than enough ridiculous conversations to last her her entire lifetime), who duly handed us a prize draw form.  My main issue with this was that it asked for the names of the bride and her partner, which is both heteronormative and very presumptuous.  For the benefit of any non-British readers: civil partnerships are now a relatively common occurrence in the UK, which means that the people getting “married” could be of the same or opposite gender and yet this form appeared to make the assumption that the couple in question would either be lesbian or heterosexual without stopping to consider the possibility that two men might be getting married.  EPIC FAIL.

The rest of the event went pretty much as I anticipated.  There were plenty of businesses present, all touting their services.  There were the novelty juke box people; the wedding dress people and the photographers.  However, my all time favourite had to be the cake people.  Not people who were made of cake, you understand.  Although this would have made the day that little bit more bearable and even mildly entertaining.  No, these were local bakeries who had cakes that were so big that they could have made rather spacious dwellings.  Thinking about it, this could be the answer to Britain’s housing crisis: instead of buying the couple gifts the guests could all contribute towards a colossal wedding cake which the couple could then live in.  It might suffer from the odd problem with mould but it would probably last a lot longer than many of the new builds you see being thrown up all over the place these days and you probably wouldn’t need planning permission!  OK, so it’s technically a stupid idea but it’s no more stupid than spending a stupid amount on ONE DAY.  Seriously, why on Earth would you need stupid table decorations?  Do you seriously think people will question the validity of your marriage if you don’t have them?  In one hundred years time when some random descendent is looking back through their family history, do you actually think that your lack of centrepieces is going to be apparent?  Probably not.  All these thoughts were whirling through my little head as I wondered round the place, dutifully avoiding the hungry eyes of the predatory sales people.

Then there was the fact that they targeted me rather than my partner.  Even when my partner instigated conversations with company reps, they aimed their responses at me.  Like I am going to know or even care about how many people to cater for.  If I had my way, they would all be paying for their own lunches or at least being fed gruel (I desperately wanted a Charles Dickens themed wedding but, alas, my partner refused on the grounds that it was a stupid idea).  Besides, I felt a little uneasy discussing the merits of cheesy filo pastry thinglets whilst I know that at that present moment, there would be some poor Ethiopian child dying of hunger or some Bradfordian pensioner dying of the cold.  In light of such suffering, deciding which overpriced decorative horrors to inflict upon wedding guests seemed to be a pretty pointless exercise.  I was on the brink of asking whether we could forfeit the buffet and send the cash to Oxfam or something but I’m pretty sure this would have gone down as well as a turd in a vindaloo. All these thoughts were occurring to me as the catering rep was talking at me about the various options available.  I wasn’t entirely sure why you would focus all of your attention and information on somebody who was blatantly not paying any attention to what was going on.   I’m sure there is a reason for this that does not involve me being a woman who has dreamed about her perfect day since girlhood but I just can’t think of what this would be.

Needless to say, we didn’t stay too long.  My exasperated partner had to give in gracefully and concede that I probably wasn’t going to stop being facetious after I snubbed a poor lady who was trying to sell cake lollies to me.   I think it is fair to say that I will not be accompanying him on his next wedding related excursion.

GTA 5

Sorry I haven’t been around much (ok at all): I’ve been busy with stuff.  I appreciate that this is rather evasive as excuses go and that may seem unsatisfactory but that’s the only excuse you’re getting.  Anyway, I’m back....

Sooo not much of note has happened, apart from the usual recession related crap and I’m presuming that you really don’t want to read about that.  Or maybe you do.  Either way, I don’t want to write about it so you will have to go elsewhere for your fix of doom.

Of course, two weeks ago they released Grand Theft Auto, much to the delight of nerds everywhere.  To be honest, I haven’t played the game so I’m not entirely sure what the point in it actually is.  From what I understand, it revolves around shooting at people whilst driving badly: something that nerds everywhere probably wish they could do and get away with.  Ah if only.

I’ve heard many complaints about the game, mostly from abandoned partners of GTA obsessed nerds.  I am one such partner as mine is, right at this moment in time, barricaded in the study playing the game whilst I am typing up this blog post and listening to Alice Cooper.  Rock and roll.  Anyway, I seem to be in the minority of partners who is actually relishing the freedom that this game has bestowed upon me.  Below is a list of freedoms that have come about as a result of the boyfriend’s newfound obsession:

1.       Eating on the sofa.  My boyfriend normally hates this so I try not to do it when he is around or conscious enough to notice what I’m doing.  However, not only has he barely left the study in the past two weeks; when he has left he is so focused on his game that he’s not really paying attention to what I’m doing.  Therefore, I can actually eat my meals on the sofa without him noticing.

2.       Watching bad TV.  In an attempt not to appear too inane, I tend not to watch anything that has been broadcast by channel four or five in the presence of my boyfriend.  This means that I usually have to wait until he is out before I dare tuck into any guilty pleasures and even then I am always a little worried that he might reappear before my programme has finished.  However, now he is distracted by GTA I can watch such gems as “My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding” and “The Undatables” until my heart’s content.

3.       I can leave my stuff lying around the house knowing that he will have neither the time nor the concentration to tidy it away.

4.       He’s not around to nick my chocolate, Doritos and other confectionary.

5.       I can write facetious blog posts safe in the knowledge that he is far too busy to read them.

6.       Endless happiness.  My boyfriend is currently experiencing unprecedented levels of euphoria and I HAVEN’T HAD TO MAKE ANY EFFORT.  I’ve not had to go out of my way to be nice, buy gifts or massage his ego.  He is just happy.  And I haven’t had to do anything apart from leave him in front of a games console to stare at a screen and moan in pleasure every few seconds.  This appeals to my emotionally lazy side.

I’m sure there are more benefits to this new addition to this household but I’m far too lazy to try and think of them just now.  Back to “Don’t Tell The Bride” or whatever drivel channel 4 are currently broadcasting.

Bridget Jones Tax

Just when you thought that this country could not get any more hateful towards singletons, the Labour Party comes out and suggests that they should be paying more council tax.  Just in case you don’t already know, single occupants currently enjoy a 25% discount on their council tax, which may sound like a lot (especially given the fact that local councils are feeling the pinch due to cuts that have been imposed by Westminster).  However, you need to remember that single people won’t produce as much waste as couples or families.  They probably won’t use schools (well, unless they are a single parent family) and, above all else, they get sidelined by policy makers and think tanks alike.

Despite the fact that single occupant households now make up 29% of total households in the UK, singletons are repeatedly ignored when it comes to designing services or offering financial help, with the majority of financial help being offered to families and pensioners.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating leaving children to starve or pensioners to die of hypothermia.  I’m not totally heartless.  However, I do feel that more could be done to help those who are trying to survive on one (often moderate) income. 

I’m not entirely sure why this inequality exists.  I certainly think that as a county we are so family centric that we fail to understand that there are those who live alone, be it through choice or through circumstance.  We are socially conditioned to believe that in order for an individual to function socially, they must be part of a family.  Preferably that family will be a loving, nurturing one in which every individual is loved and supported and whilst society acknowledges that this model does not always work out at times, we still champion the family as the basis of a functional society.  After all, a society is made up of individuals and so healthy individuals make a healthy society.  Thus, it seems to be a commonly held belief that even the most dysfunctional family is better than no family at all.   That a person who lives alone is in some way sad and deficient.  It is also a challenge to what society deems as being normal. 

Or perhaps it is purely because nobody stays single forever, right?  After all, everyone so wants to meet the perfect partner, get married/ have a civil partnership, buy a house in the suburbs with a double garage and neatly manicured lawn, have or adopt lots of kids and continue their onward march towards middle-age and an ever expanding waste line.  When you think about it like that, who the hell would ever choose to remain single?  No, singleness is a stop-gap.  A transition period between the not so perfect partner and the partner to whom you will eventually surrender your sense of self and independence.  You don’t actually think anyone believes it when you say that you really enjoy your own company and could never imagine having to share your space with another person, do you?  Thus, if singleness is “just a phase” and one that most of us, at some stage or other, are to grow out of, then why should the government and the rest of society make exceptions and provisions for it?

Maybe because we live in a country that claims to respect individual life choices and because we need to stop being so darnright patronising.  Just because somebody does not want to waste their Sundays in B&Q or running around after smaller versions of themselves; it does not make them non existent.  It also doesn’t mean that they don’t need help.  Things like fuel bills, rent/mortgage payments and insurance all have to be paid.  Many of these costs are ever increasing and would cost as much for one person as they would for three.  OK, so maybe if you’re on your own then you could get away with smaller house, which would cost you less in terms of rent/ mortgage payments but still....

Then there’s the fact that married couples get tax breaks.  Why?  Apart from conforming to the whims of society, I really don’t see why a piece of paper should automatically mean that you qualify for tax breaks, especially if you have two incomes.  It’s simple really, the more your household earns, the greater your tax bill should be.  No ifs.  No buts.  Relationship status should not come into it.  Single people who live alone and earn less than married or cohabiting couples should not have to surrender their council tax discount.  Likewise, married couples should not get preferential treatment.