Your national food or drink may not be your cup of tea but, you are not [insert country] enough if you don’t like it. As if food and drink are a measure of how patriotic you are supposed to be.

Which made me ponder can we really fake it until we make it? Are we supposed to make it or are we creating space for others to push further than where we arrived? 

It is these dangerous expectations, that rip us men and women apart. We are not allowed to raise our voices. Our discomfort, our pain and our voice of anguish is reduced to—“that time of the month” .