P.S. I LOVE YOU

THERE IS A POINT in adulthood when we truly understand the great complexities of human existence, when we realise that within all of us, there is both the sacred and the profane—or consider the possibility that sacredness and profaneness are just arbitrary constructs and we are all merely exploring different facets of the same human experience.

- INDRAN PARAMASIVAM

We may call it empathy, but even the word, as a profession of language, might not fully encapsulate this moment of profound perspicacity.

Some never even get to that stage. We call them Republicans.We were reminded of this as we sat in Studio Daydream in Ubi Crescent with Meah, Nura and Lin, three extraordinary women who have grappled with constant judgment as a result of what they do. They're content creators, of the spicy variety.

There is nothing wrong with what they do—it is their bodies and their image after all, which belong to them and only them—but there is something about women taking ownership of sex and sexuality that turn a lot of men and women into self-proclaimed armchair moralists and psychologists. They objectify these women, use terms like 'slut' or 'daddy issues', or rhetoric like, “What would their parents/children think?” or “They should pick up a skill and get a proper job,” or “It must be terrible being their partner,” with no actual knowledge of these women's lives behind the camera. We know this because people have said this to us, and because these are actual messages that get sent to their inboxes. Because these armchair moralists tend to have all the psychological expertise of an actual armchair, we felt the best way to really know these women is by actually speaking to them.

This season of love, we cede the floor to Meah, Nura and Lin—also known as Macatdemeah, Canigetalaserwhip, and Draculin respectively, and truly get to know these wonderful women and human beings and their thoughts on life and love.

There's a moment in the 2009 cinematic hipster pièce de résistance