In this day of age, the majority of people think that sexism is a myth. Is sexism not the role which society imposes on us? The role of the domesticated and lesser equates to the “F” check mark when selecting your gender on documents. Let’s be real.
The rules and expectations men have of women, but they’re not to be held liable for the same? Sexism still isn’t a myth?
Guys: “don’t wear that out, don’t go to parties, don’t talk to guys, don’t look at anyone, don’t go anywhere”
Also guys: “I respect women, but they don’t respect themselves”
ALSO guys: “Bitches this, hoes that. *insert derogatory term here*”
Until I came to New York and found my niche, I have never been called “domesticated.” Truthfully, I had to urbandictionary the word. Domesticated means knowing how to clean and cook, but to me, this is just day-to-day survival and independence. My mom raised all of her baby birds and gave us the necessary tools to fly away from the nest. She had two girls and one boy also known as there is no excuse as to why you shouldn’t wash dishes or take out the trash. If my mother was ever called domesticated, this is a straight up insult to her because she is much more than that. She was both the disciplinary and the mejor amiga. I took this as an insult at first, but then I realized it is a definition. It is not a label. It is not my label and I am so much more than a housewife.
But you know why I felt the tendency to be insulted? Or why my mother would be? You, men, expect us to cook and clean. How about YOU make me a sandwich and I’ll fix the light bulb?
You love women for their beauty.
You do not appreciate a woman of great strength or astronomical intelligence. You do not look at a woman and think “She has a positive vibe.” Instead you result to the temporary. You result to the attributes that will fade away one day. I totally understand highlighting a woman’s features, but I can attest, that there is so much more to her. You judge us for our body count (a term used to define how many people you have had sex with) but you, men, never get asked for your body count. No one fucking judges you for posting a shirtless picture, but God forbid I post a picture in my bathing suit.
You hate us. You claim you are against abortion because it is killing a life, but YOU, the father of our children, the supposed caregiver, is nowhere to be found during crunch time.
You want to be “pro-life” but you aren’t present during the child’s life. You want to control us and our body. You do not seem to care too much about what the child lives like after birth.
Disclaimer: I do not hate men. I stand against intolerance and hypocrisy.
If a man is too sensitive, this is seen as weak. Men deserve to be recognized and cherished too. They deserve love and affection. Men are entitled to their feelings. Every human deserves someone to listen to them vent, regardless of their sexual orientation.
A male cannot have certain hairstyles because it is too “girly.” A little boy cannot put a dress on because you want them to grow up in a specific gender role. An adolescent, teenage boy cannot wear makeup because he wants to feel beautiful too.
What does that even mean? What does all of this mean? I’ll tell you.
You hate women. You hate our makeup, our attire, our broad range of emotions. What most do you hate? Women stepping out of their gender roles and men slowly finding their way to step out of their roles too.
If you have children or you are planning to have children, could you accept them as them, for who they are, not who they love?
Do you not want to see your children be happy? Why make them feel like they have to hide from you? Cause trust me, they will continue being themselves but behind your back.
If you are sincerely THAT homophobic that you would not be able to love your child if he or she preferred the same gender……
Please, let the fucking door hit you on the way out.
If you are truly homophobic, you are uncomfortable with your own masculinity. POINT BLANK. NEXT.
Women are stupid because we’re missing a screw. A screw that men possess, but women do not (apparently). We dismiss everything a woman does because she’s the opposite gender so it’s expected. The glass ceiling is not broken yet.
Oh and if you still believe we have no reason to think why you hate us… here’s a HUGE reason why:
Mothertruckers want to blame us for being raped and violated. Sadly, this isn’t only men. You must have cringed at the last sentences either because you believe it to be true or deny the privilege you have been given.
One of the most exhilarating and political decisions of my life turned into a dark cloud that hung over me quickly. I got off the M train and felt this strange presence. (Please, ladies, never have both headphones in or at all when you’re walking alone. Unfortunately, this is a gateway and provides easy access. Your unawareness lures predators.) The irony is that because I walked without headphones and gadgets, it was only 10pm, and I was going to be home in three and a half minutes to blog my experience and finish studying for an upcoming exam; all of this had me feeling quite safe in my quaint neighborhood. The day before, I had just arrived in New York from spending some much-needed time with my family in Vegas. What I thought would be a three-and-a-half minute walk turned into the longest period of time without my sanity and security. Almost four months later and I still wake up crying because of my vivid dreams. To cut this already long excerpt short, I was stalked. All the way to my apartment. He saw me in my window. I watched him smile at me and I still do some nights. When the cops arrived thirty minutes later after my call, one of the first things they asked me was “What were you wearing?” In that moment, I knew this would be pointless. My fears, my sense of womanhood, my security was treated as a fucking inconvenience. I knew I didn’t matter. Why would it matter what I was wearing? A woman’s attire is not to be taken as a “yes” or a “no” to ANY scumbag. If a woman has not said “no”, THIS DOES NOT MEAN “YES” —
The womb you came out of is a woman. Your mother.
The hands that fed you and taught you are attached to a woman. Your sister.
The knowledge, laughs, and compassion comes from a woman.
Your abuelita. Your teachers. Your aunts. Your cousins. Your friends. Your co-workers.
Happy International Women’s Day. In honor of the countless women that have inspired me, I am making my blog public today.
If you are a trans woman, if you are an undocumented woman, if you are an abused woman… I love you. You’re beautiful. We stand together and i’m thinking of you today when I’m protesting at Washington Sq Park.
(A huge shoutout to the mamacita, Moni, G-Money, Dr. Thanos, Frida Kahlo, Audrey Hepburn, Ms. Lauryn Hill, my soul sister, Diana, Katie, the Pinks, Delgado, my team lit ladies, Habbibi, Aphasone, Maxine, Kim, my sorority sisters, and SO many more.)