Anima Agony Aunt
09/12/2024
Dear Reader,
Welcome to your one-stop shop for questionable life advice and unsolicited judgement. Got yourself into a mess? Lucky for you, I’m here — armed with a sharp tongue, a dash of mockery, and just enough wisdom to keep you from completely ruining your life (probably).I won’t sugarcoat it. You’re likely the problem. But don’t worry — I’m here to point that out with the warmth of a friend and the finesse of a hammer. By the end, you might not feel better, but you’ll definitely feel seen. So go ahead, spill your messiest secrets. I’ve got time and no shortage of opinions.
Yours truly,
Agony Aunt
Help! My boyfriend is Zionist
Dear Reader,
So, your boyfriend’s a Zionist. My condolences — truly. There’s nothing quite like realising the person you’ve been snogging in the Student Union has a political stance you’d normally dodge like a raging case of freshers’ flu. However, let’s have a closer look, shall we?
First off, I’m guessing there’s some reason you went out with him to begin with. Maybe he was dead charming. Maybe he has nice arms. Or maybe he just talked enough waffle in your seminar about ‘the complexities of Middle Eastern history’ that you mistook for his intelligence. Well, now here you are, in a bit of a bind.
Let’s talk about what you’re risking here, socially. As you’re surely aware, the whole ‘my partner’s problematic’ angle won’t go down well with your SOAS friends. They’ll be looking at you like you’ve shown up to a vegan dinner party with a steak! Expect the collective sighing to intensify the next time he mansplains ‘Israel’s perspective’ at a seminar — and don’t be shocked if you find yourself trying to defend him. Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover it. As much as you might think there’s a ‘fix him’ path here, it’s more likely you’ll just be nudging him towards yet another polite shrug. Imagine the joy of a lifetime spent politely disagreeing over geopolitics at family gatherings. So here’s my advice, plain and simple: dump him. Cut your losses, free yourself, and let him wander off into the sunset to find someone who wants to have endless circular debates about Israel’s ‘right to exist’. Frankly, it’ll be a relief not having to sit through his ‘both sides’ spiel while you nurse a vague sense of shame.
Good luck,
Agony Aunt
I have a crush on my lecturer!
Dear Reader,
Oh, a crush on a SOAS lecturer, is it? So, who’s the object of your academic affection? A middle-aged Marxist with a perpetually fraying satchel? A postcolonial theory devotee who quotes Edward Said in his sleep?
Let’s be honest — a SOAS lecturer is almost designed to be irresistible to a politically-minded undergrad. But here’s the thing - it’s all part of the persona. He’s got the scruffy beard, the battered copy of Orientalism tucked into his pocket, the slightly too frequent mentions of “when I was in Palestine” — he knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he pretends otherwise. You’re not crushing on a person; you’re crushing on a performance.
Now, you may be tempted to take this to the next level;say, asking for a bit of “extra help” during office hours. So you turn up, nervous but prepared, ready to dissect some obscure Foucault reference-and what happens? You find yourself sitting across from him, clutching your notebook while he gives you a half-hearted lecture about “rethinking Western epistemologies” as he types emails with one hand and holds a mug that smells vaguely of camomile tea with the other.
And even if, by some unlikely twist of fate, he did return your interest (spoiler alert: he won’t). Think of what it would entail; endless discussions about subaltern studies, late nights in his cluttered office surrounded by outdated maps of former empires - and constant mentions of his trip to Syria in 2011.
In short: not romantic, not sexy, and, honestly, exhausting.
I hate to be blunt, but here it is - he’s not your soulful intellectual dream man. He’s an: underpaid, overworked lecturer who spends his evenings marking essays on postcolonial narratives and ignoring emails. You’re a bright-eyed student, and he’s probably ten years and an entire continent of life experience ahead of you. No matter how much you’d like to believe you’re bound by some academic destiny, I’m afraid this relationship is going nowhere. So, I suggest you spare yourself the heartbreak (and inevitable embarrassment) and direct your energy elsewhere. There are plenty of people out there who can tell you all about power structures in South Asia without the added drama. Or, if you must pine, save it for a cause with a real chance of success, like getting SOAS to fix the heating in the library.
Good luck,
Agony Aunt
