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Against the martyrdoms | Feminism

Against the martyrdoms |  Feminism

Martirio talks a lot in his shows. Between songs he tells stories you don’t want them to end. One of them is dedicated to a man whom, in that redemptive desire that many women have, he wanted to save from himself. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t. She says that this character left her and was lost around the house. It was her, she explains with all the grace in the world, one of those moments in which one is so bad that she “doesn’t wash her head”. The first time I heard this story I laughed a lot. How did he understand her? That was the barometer of abandonment. I had been that person. There was. There was a time when I responded to sadness with more sadness. The wonderful Mrs. Silvia Pérez Cruz sings a bolero called La Tarde. Her refrain, which I perpetrate in the shower, says: “The sorrows that mistreat me / There are so many that they run over each other / And they try to kill me / They crowd each other and, for that reason, they don’t kill me”. That’s what I thought: that the accumulated sadness canceled each other out. I am sorry to contradict Sindo Garay, who wrote the song, but now I think that misery must be challenged with small, medium or large gestures of beauty. A few Saturdays ago, a plan that I had orchestrated in my head with some enthusiasm failed me. I saw myself walking at night in the rain through Madrid, feeling sorry for myself and, as we say in Seville, reporting. I stopped, took a breath and made two decisions: the first was to go into the first place I could find to get my manicure; It gives me peace to have my nails under control and I needed that feeling of being able to control something. The second was to get a ticket to go to the movies. When things don’t go my way, I need to see a movie that won’t disappoint me; if I’m at home I write in the search engine of any platform: Hitchcock, Sidney Lumet or Billy Wilder. I can’t afford failures. I respect those who, in the middle of a duel, ask for an appointment at the hairdresser’s, those who, when they don’t know how to handle a situation, lock themselves in the bathroom and fill the bathtub, that friend who is going through a bad time and sends me a WhatsApp that says : “I urgently need a massage in a nice place, where do I go?”. In our culture, not responding to martyrdom with more martyrdom may seem strange, but going counterintuitively can work very well. In turbid times pleasure is militant. It is reached by many paths and beauty is the easiest: we are surrounded by it and each one has their own. Mine are showers with a soap that smells of the English countryside, choosing perfume like someone who chooses a house to live in and submerging myself, every few days, in a swimming pool. I use a municipal: all pools are the same pool. They serve me red lipsticks against dark days and masks in the middle of the afternoon; I have never used as many as in the last few months. When I get anxious I don’t eat chocolate or start a bottle of wine, but I open the box of my manicure supplies and begin to do my nails in a thorough way. I focus on it, caring less about the result than the process: it’s another way of meditating. I file the nails and exfoliate, remove cuticles, apply oil, paint them with base, color and top coat, and when I finish I look at them and say: the world can get out of hand, but I can’t get out of my hands. I no longer stop washing my hair for anyone. I do not ask these daily gestures to improve my being, how much responsibility, but my being. We live being

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– Article Written By @Anabel Vázquez from https://smoda.elpais.com/feminismo/contra-los-martirios/

Nicole Aniston