Because i am a woman

I wrote this last year, now i want your opinion on it

0Likes
0Comments
109Views
AA

1. Because i am a woman

Because i dress nice. Because i wear makeup and fiddle with my hair, you feel inclined to me. You feel inclined to my body, in a way that i am truly not even inclined myself. You believe you have the right to pass judgement when i don't do those things. I see no way around you, because you are here in many minds of this society. A society where a woman is nothing but a sales pitch or a wife and babymamma. Either trying to pick me down because i am a woman, or objectifying me as a sexual object that you can use as you please, because i am a woman. Because i am a woman and you are a man. We have many things in common you know. Shoulders, backs, yes even nipples. These are only our physical similarities. On that exact grounds, all that is different is that i have a vagina and you have a penis. But somehow that penis (tiny as it might be) makes you think that you are better than me. That you have the right to decide whether i want you or not. Whether i want your hands crawling all over me. YOU disgust me. You made me believe that i needed to dress well, to make myself attractive to earn your looks, and your unforgiving hands. And if my body isn't what you imagined i am picked at, as not good enough for your disturbing image of what a woman should be. What I should look like. I am of course not speaking of all men. Some are great, even noble, but the rest of you destroy our trust that those kinds of men, the good kind, actually exist. Because mostly these good men will join in on the fun. Judging us by our body's or making jokes about harrasing a woman. And while you may not be the man in the alley next to the club raping young girls, you can in some ways be just as bad. Because YOU were a part of it, YOU let it happen. As soon as i heard that laugh cross your lips i knew that you are not as noble as you might believe. Because although it might seem a joke to you, it is not to all of us. But we, women, are so used to being used and misused that we don't tend to react. In fear that you might need to put us in our place if we flip you off. Might feel the need to break us down to a scrap that you can control.

 

We are not intiteled, we are cursed. We are not complimented by your calls and revolting flirting attempts, we are harassed. But we suffer in silence. I have never been raped. This makes me feel lucky, but it shouldn't because it should NOT ever be a fact that one in every six women are raped. It pisses me of that i am afraid to be that one in every six women. That i had to be told when i was little how to defend myself if someone felt inclined to my body without my consent. Boys aren't told to not dress daringly, or to never leave a drink or to never get too drunk without supervision. Because only 1 out of every 10 rape victims are males. This is good, at least we are better at not raping you. Also since most of those rape cases are committed by men. Men assaulting men, how disturbing. It truly is. Don't get me wrong, i love men just as much as the next girl.

 

I fear that these "just the boys"-events will eventually pull us more apart than we already are. This idea of a 'just us boys'-gathering is a terrible plan. The fact that i can not be invited to that one party because of the simple fact that i am not in possesion of a penis and a scrotum. However brilliant those two parts of your body are. I will always trow a fit, i will always play unfair, because you have made it evident that that is the only way a woman can get her way. To be such a 'bitch' that you include me because you just couldn't bear anymore. Although you are the one who made it very clear that it is the only way you will reason with me. Not because we have had an honest conversation leading to the fact that i will simply not be interested in this gathering, but because i threw a hissy fit. Trust me, i have tried to reason with you. That there is not much difference between us and that i would love these exact line of events. ecspecially because all you do is drink, talk and listen to music. But being constantly brushed of with a simple "because you are a woman"- phrase is simply not enough. I refuse to believe that because i am a woman i cannot simply be a part of your friendships. That i am either to fragile or not good enough because "i am a woman" and that being a woman is some sort of insult to my being.

 

This image of a savage animalistic cage-man is also not good for your reputation. The fact that the most asked question at a rape investegation is "what did you wear?", or "How drunk were you?" is horrific. That somehow the fact that she wore a mini-skirt was simply too much for you to handle so that when she refused you, you got her drunk and raped her. Maybe she was naive to think you wanted to get to know her, that you weren't as bad as the rumours say, maybe because of her trust in a general humanity but how can it ever be HER FAULT that she believed in your lie? How can it ever be HER FAULT that you think so little of yourself that you believe she would refuse you if you gave her the actual chance. I am sorry that you do not have control over your desires, and that i was a part of those desires. I am sorry that i did not let your wanting hands down my pants to relieve some of these desires. Maybe if i had, i wouldn't have been a victim of yours. Maybe i could have been more than the object you rubbed against as you gained your climax. Maybe i could have been more than the girl you left in that library, feeling used and horrible. But i had never even been touched like that before. Just the fact that you grabbed my breast, with people passing by took me by suprise. You seemed so kind.

I have always desired the attention of men, because somehow the norm told me that if i was desired, if i was wanted, then i would feel better, i would be better. As if you were a source of affirmation. So i took it as a compliment. I told my friends in pride. Although on the inside i somehow felt wrong. Somehow the fact that you wanted my body, wasn't enough. I didn't hear from you after. You didn't write me or call me or even try to contact me. This just enhanced the feeling of wrong. I still can't quite shake that feeling that that night was a mistake. That i should have faught back, somehow convinced you that i wanted more. But i was so drunk and i knew things like this happens all the time. That this was not worst case senario. This was far from that. This man is not a bad person. He did what most men do. He did what most men believe is okay. He wanted, he needed and he took. Because no one ever tried to teach him that maybe it wasn't what i wanted. So i don't blame him, and i never will. He acted in good will, believed that this was what we both wanted. But you never asked, and you didn't see the fact that i removed your hands as a statement that i wasn't ready, that i didn't want it. Not like that. But who was i to say no. I was there, in that library with the first man who had ever shown me any interest and he wanted more. So i gave what i could. Passionate but innocent kisses, and a little touching. This is when you lead us further back into the library. Here we layed next to each other, kissing a little, but it wasn't until you started groaning that i understood what was happening. And before i could stop it, you got up, looked at me, said "see you" and left. not even a goodbye kiss, or a hug. Just nothing. It took a while before i came to my senses, until i realised that i needed to leave that library because standing there, alone, was quite unbearable.                       

 

I have no other form than words to show you the truth, because if i speak it, you will most likely dismiss me. Brush it off, because i am just another feminist talking shit about men. And i wasn't even raped. But somehow i feel a right to speak about this, because i am a woman. And that is not an insult nor is it a plead, it is a powerful statement because women are strong powerful beings, completely equeal to strong powerful men.

 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...