Love the Bitch


For 15 years I’ve been working collectively making theatre; and 80% of the time I’m in the room I can’t shut up.

I’m loud, opinionated and passionate. I care a lot.


I’m sure it’s annoying as fuck.

I tell my collaborators when I think they’re off the mark. I fight for my ideas. I’m fine getting into conflict and hashing out shit. I also like being challenged and stood up to.

But it’s exhausting.

Being the one in the room who knows the best way to do everything.

So, about half way through every creative process I’m in, I start feeling shame. I shut my mouth and sit on my hands and my mantra becomes “be good Emelia, try to be good…”

But I can’t.

My pressurized neutrality never lasts more than 15 minutes and soon I blow up even bigger than if I had let it out in a slow leak.


Do I really think I’m going to change after 37 years? My first ever report card said that I “needed to learn to listen more and talk less.” I’ve been a loud-mouth since the day I was born.

But you know what, I make good stuff and I get things done.


So love the bitch.

Because she’s you and she always has been; and she’s not going to change.



No matter how much you try and squish and push and cram her into a crack, she will bloom out like an indestructible fungus of light.


And that’s the best news you’re going to get all day.