I am a Trainee Family Solicitor, but long before I stepped into a courtroom or opened a law book, I was an intersectional radical feminist.

"Radical feminism" is a label that has become almost taboo. In reality, it simply means recognising that women's oppression is structural rather than incidental. "Intersectional" means that gender oppression cannot be understood solely within the confines of gender, but it encapsulates to further systems of marginalisation, including race, class, and sexuality. It asks difficult questions about power, violence, sexuality, work, motherhood, the family, and the role of the state. If those questions make people uncomfortable, perhaps that discomfort says more about society than it does about feminism.

At school,  aged-15, my best friend and I challenged our misogynistic uniform policy by plastering the corridors with poems protesting the different standards imposed on girls. Female children were expected to cover our bodies in ways that boys simply were not. Those who failed to comply were removed from lessons and sent home to change, sacrificing their education over the visibility of a shoulder, a pair of leggings, or a skirt deemed a few inches too short. It raised a question that has stayed with me ever since: why was policing girls' bodies considered more important than educating them?

Some would argue that we were free to receive an education if we simply followed the rules. But rules are not beyond criticism. When policies disproportionately regulate girls' bodies and reinforce the idea that girls are responsible for managing how others perceive them, they deserve to be challenged, not unquestioningly obeyed.

Our protest was not well received. The school held a whole-school assembly condemning our actions, and the uniform policy remained unchanged. Yet that experience taught me something far more important: speaking up matters, even when it does not produce immediate results. Change often begins with uncomfortable conversations. I am still that same girl: questioning authority, challenging injustice, and refusing to accept discrimination simply because it has become normalised.

This blog exists because the law is not neutral. It has been written, interpreted, and enforced within societies shaped by patriarchal values. While the law has undoubtedly advanced women's rights, it has also legitimised inequality, excused violence against women, and too often required women to fight for rights that should never have been in question. Feminist legal analysis is not about attacking men; it is about exposing the systems that privilege one group over another and asking why those systems continue to endure.

Before law, I earned a First Class degree in Criminology and Forensics, followed by a Master's in Forensic Psychology. Throughout my studies, one question has remained constant: why do people commit harm, and why do our institutions so often fail those who experience it? The answer is rarely found in individual behaviour alone. It lies in the cultures, laws, and social structures that decide whose voices are believed, whose suffering is minimised, and whose interests are protected.

Here, I write about the law through a feminist lens. Expect discussions of women's rights, sexual violence, domestic abuse, family law, criminal justice, human rights, and the cases that shape them. Some articles will be academic, others unapologetically opinionated. All will be grounded in legal analysis, evidence, and a belief that the law should do more than preserve the status quo: it should challenge it.

If that makes this blog controversial, so be it. Progress has never been achieved by staying quiet.