Wednesday, 25 November 2015

The Things Women Don't Talk About

A friend of mine shared this article the other day, and much of it rang true for me.

To save you a click, it's all the sexism we encounter that we shrug off for one reason or another.

Here's an extract:

But all the other times? All the times we felt uneasy or nervous but nothing more happened? Those times we just go about our business and don’t think twice about. It’s the reality of being a woman in our world. It’s laughing off sexism because we felt we had no other option. It’s feeling sick to your stomach that we had to “play along” to get along. It’s feeling shame and regret the we didn’t call that guy out, the one who seemed intimidating but in hindsight was probably harmless. Probably. It’s taking our phone out, finger poised over the “Call” button when we’re walking alone at night.

For me it's quitting experimenting with wacky hair colours not because "it was too much maintenance" (the reason I often gave) but because of the jemble/fedora bro/creep contingent it attracted. I am not your Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Piss off.

It's not knowing when walking home at night whether the footsteps pounding behind you belong to a jogger or potential mugger/rapist. Joggers, for god's sake find another way of keeping fit, please!

It's encountering so much mansplaining, even from those with good intentions, that I don't bother to call it out anymore.

It's keeping quiet about the absolute hypocrisy I encounter with some so-called feminists that I've learnt to leave it rather than getting agitated for weeks on end.

It's keeping a long coat on in summer when gadding about because the moment you start breaking into a sweat and wanting to peel it off the white van occupants will assume it's the beginning of a strip tease and let you know their approval.

It's not knowing whether to say "Hello" back to manual labourers and risk being branded an up-for-it slattern, or bow your head and jog on and risk being labelled a frigid bitch.

It's not wanting to go clubbing anymore because as you get older you become more aware of and disgusted by the Starers. The ones whose idea of flirting involves grinding their cock on your innocent boogie-ing rear. It's telling friends about being groped and them having fuck all to say about it.

It's not wanting to go back to OK Cupid because for every kind message you get from a man there's 10 "HI SEXY I WANT FUCK YOU" ones.

It's being talked over. All. The. Fucking. Time. And the immense relief and gratitude when someone listens. Thank you.

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