Who says you canβt have a bath in the middle of the day or that we need to lose our minds over menopause? Who says you canβt order dessert before the main? That you have to buy the same brand of flour your mum did and reply to texts immediately?
Who says you canβt say no to the school parent group chat when itβs making you feel stabby? Who says you have to manage other peopleβs expectations at the expense of your own sanity? That you need to give five stars to the Uber driver who drove like a poorly handled marionette?
You should give it a crack. Itβs not like it was when you were a 14-year-old baby rebel, clomping around saying βwho says I have to?β when parents were dishing out orders.
Itβs not about dissing anyone or being a dick or abandoning social norms. Itβs about trying to work out why youβre following rules set by faceless nameless authority figures.
The beauty of βWho Says?β is it exposes how many of our daily choices arenβt really choices. Theyβre habits weβve inherited from a collective consciousness that nobody can actually identify.
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The invisible committee who decided jeans after 40 should be βflatteringβ. The phantom board that ruled itβs quasi-illegal to not care for acai bowls. The voice in your head that isnβt actually yours, that makes you wax, wear Spanx, drink beer and answer emails at midnight because itβs what βpeople doβ.
This week I was self-service scanning mini Toblerones at an airport newsagent. On the checkoutβs either side? Essendon footballers, getting snacks before their Perth flight. Cool β my boys.
But saying hi to people you donβt know isnβt cool. I once dissuaded Mum from fronting broadcaster and singer Denis Walter at a Geelong Chinese restaurant. Now, who says? So I bailed up 2025 rookie Angus Clarke, a 19-year-old from rural South Australia whose live interview after his debut made fabulous viewing.
As a kid, Angus said, he funded footy trips by chopping wood in a loop β footy, chop wood, school, working on the family farm.
The work ethic slayed me. I told Angus heβs a ripper, he crouched down for a photo with the random old duck. Despite looking all squinty with excitement, I could not be more rapt with the shot unless Two Metre Peter was in it too.
And if anyone watching had a problem? Who says I have to give a fat ratβs?
Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media. Her new book, Boogie Wonderland, is published by Affirm Press.
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