March. March March March. You’re a funny one. March is always a bitter-sweet month, as it’s the month I left my home and my job and my friends and ran (or flew) as fast as I could to the other side of the planet. Even after three years (!!!) it does tend to leave me a little melancholy… though I definitely wouldn’t have it any other way!
So in celebration of 21 year old me going off on her own, and also to commemorate International Woman’s Day which was earlier in the month, I decided to dedicate March to reading feminist fiction. What could go wrong?!