I’ve had one and a half years on my own, and I learned pretty quickly what it means to be a woman in the modern age. No, I am not exaggerating, and yes I am a feminist. The proper feminist. One who simply wants equality, not dominance.
- We call it Shark Week in my house, and yes, it is Hell. Anybody who tells you otherwise is either ignorant or in denial. The more girls you live with, the worse the week gets. Or month, if you’re unfortunate enough to stay on your own schedule. It’s every day life, but we have to hide our tampons and pads in grocery stores, suppress the tears, anger, and cravings when all we want to do is burst, and talk in code. Shark week. Time of the month. Visit from Mother Nature. How about period? Menstual Cycle? Nature itself? It happens, it’s constant, and it’s as painful as we say. Get over it.
- Peaceful, late night walks are a dream and only a dream. Unless you want to flat out sprint, for fear of drunk frat boys.
- The battle for respect and equality is up Mount Everest. Sometimes I feel this is singular to me in my circle of multi-gendered friends, but I know there are women out there who fight their own battles too.
- We’re not just fighting men, we’re fighting our own too. Cat fights. I don’t know why, but females are terrible creatures. We stab each other in the back, lie, cheat, steal, manipulate, and toy with each other. We’re great at it! Mean Girls got it right when they included that girl war in the end. Sometimes, there’s no where to run to because both sides are beating you down.
- Our bodies are not our own. Whether it’s the controversy over abortion or the twisted image from media, women can’t seem to gain control of their own skin. Oh yes, and let’s not forget slut shaming, victim shaming, rape, cat calling, and all the other crap we go through. A little skin shows on our sides, or we wear a tank top with a cardigan and suddenly we’re the world’s biggest sluts who deserve defilement and need to be baptized again. Someone might as well invent sexy nun outfits to appease both the media and the world. We. Are. Not. Sex. Objects. I am not here for your pleasure, or for you to look at and/or fondle. My style, my life, my body is and will always be mine.
- “Run like a girl”, “I need some boys to do heavy lifting”, “I’ll make enough money to take care of you” are all phrases we’ve head much too often. Honestly, having a rich husband wouldn’t be too bad. It’s the lost freedom to choose that makes me cringe. Not every woman wants to be a house/trophy wife. That’s great that you can provide for a household, but don’t automatically assume I don’t want to work. Just like I don’t enjoy being told I’m not strong or athletic enough to compete with guys, I don’t want to be told what I should or shouldn’t do with my life.
- Don’t even get me started on child birth, or raising children. But you could argue that I haven’t experience that yet (thank you Lord) so I will not go into detail. Just don’t take your wife, sister, mother, or close lady friend forgranted…
“This is a man’s world”
When is it going to be my world? Or my mothers? Or the millions of girls who are oppressed? When can I walk on campus at night without having to call my boyfriend to stay with me as I walk? When can we choose our paths? When will it not be our fault when we are raped, or abused?
Most importantly: why do we have high technology and thriving metropolis’ and this is still a problem?