Screw that christmas tree, it's probably happier growing in the woods anyway. Screw those neighbours of mine who take pleasure in squeezing me for dosh the week before Christmas. And who accuse me of not caring because I have more urgent things to do than haggle for £20, like writing an annual report and three funding applications.

I feel like Chomsky, our hamster. We generously offered him a bigger cage for Christmas, to make up for the invasion of Kareni (biggish, lively and curious dog whom we're dogsitting over Christmas and who enjoys playing with cute hamsters). Like proud parents we presented it to him, with his wee house, full of cosy bedding. Not long after we went to bed, strange noises come out of the hamster abode. As good parents would do, we checked on him that all is ok. All is not ok. He's moved out of his house, has taken all the furniture (read: bedding) with him and has created a half burrow with bedding and saw dust in a corner of his new cage. He looks out of place, unprotected and cold. I'm heartbroken for him.

I feel that I'm being pushed out of my place too and have to take my cosyness in a make shift state, while outwardly arguing my case and becoming a pain in the backside for other people. Whether this is about asylum and my MP, my neighbours and alleged tenant's vandalism, or arguing for new funding/projects in a time of limited resources (human or financial). I love harmony and the sense of getting on with things, doing something useful. I hate arguments and debates. But the former isn't achieved without the latter. I have to put on my brave face and get over that fear of confrontation if I really care about change.

I sometimes wonder if this fear, this real physical sensation of sickness, racing heartbeat, shivering and trembling before difficult situations, is just a trick of nature and part of my character, or if it was brought about by nurture; or, beware, even female genes. Throughout society (in fact, societies), it's men who stand in the limelight, women are usually commendable exceptions to this rule. I don't think it's always to do with lack of opportunities, rather a choice to remain in the background. Why? Is it fear of exposure, fear of the male gaze, fear due to being the weaker sex? Why does a liberated, emancipated, highly educated woman like me still shrivel to insignificance at the prospect of a difficult conversation with someone relatively unimportant, when I know I'm in the right, and the worse that can happen is a smallish financial loss and annoyance? If I have difficulty facing this, how difficult is it to face important issues? How difficult is it for not so liberated, not so emancipated, not so highly educated woman to speak out in public?

It's a question we still haven't answered in a time which we believe should and does give equal opportunities to men and women. Yet women still shun responsiblity, plublicity and leadership. Is it really male dominated society that denies us access to these realms? Or are we happy and comfy in our cosy little world of women's magz, beauty, fashion, home and garden?