March 8th is International Women’s Day, and while I’m quite sure many enlightened men are celebrating right along with us, they can never truly get it. We live in separate realms, and try as they might, men can’t cross the borders into WomenWorld. It’s impossible.
Trust me, guys, we do not want to live here. We have been segregated to this ghetto by society. Men, in particular, have walled us off. Most Westerners are horrified by the way Saudi Arabian women are treated, but really, we are treated much the same. It’s just that what happens to us is often less blatant, and therefore it’s harder to prove.
While men’s ideas may be dismissed, they aren’t automatically dismissed. They don’t have to fight to be heard or defend every idea that they have, simply to have it considered. And if they do fight for something, they’re not considered pushy.
If men are unfamiliar with a subject, they are still treated as if they have expertise. Women, on the other hand, are only supposed to have expertise in a very narrow slice of the proficiency pie, so the default assumption, whether it’s true or not, is that we don’t know what we’re talking about. We are not supposed to be good at math or at anything mechanical. We are not supposed to enjoy working with our hands outside of the kitchen or the garden. We are not supposed to be scientific or analytical in any way. We are supposed to be so ruled by our emotions that we are incapable of rational thought.
Because we are assumed to be inferior to men in so many ways, we’re constantly encouraged to step aside and let the men handle things. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, darling. We’ve got this under control.”
To that I say, “Well, the world is going to hell in a handbasket, so how’s that working for you?”
Often, even the most well-intentioned men don’t realize what they’re saying or doing to otherize us. They call us girls, or honey, or dear, or gals. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been touched without my permission. (Nothing sexual or aggressive. That will be discussed below. No. Just treated like a pet or something. Like an inanimate object that doesn’t have to be consulted before being handled.)
Just as we are only expected to consume a narrow slice of the expertise pie, we are also only welcome to a tiny wedge of the acceptable behavior pie. We’re supposed to smile. We’re supposed to be in awe. We’re supposed to admire men. We’re supposed to need men, but not be needy. We’re not supposed to be loud or strong or behave like leaders. We’re definitely crossing the line if anything makes us angry. God forbid we speak up or speak out. We can enjoy sports, but only as long as we’re willing to clean up after the Superbowl party. We don’t necessarily have to be in the mood, but we should always be available. We’re supposed to love children and want to have some of our own. If a sacrifice is required, we’re the ones who are expected to make it. We’re supposed to dream of our wedding day.
If anything unspeakable happens to us (and to some degree it happens to most of us sooner or later), we’re supposed to keep it to ourselves, because, after all, we asked for it, and men can’t be expected to control themselves. We have had the concept of men running amok drilled into our heads since childhood, and yet, if we do anything that appears to be the slightest bit “overly” cautious, we are being paranoid or hyper-vigilant or we’re man haters. If we glance into the back seats of our cars as we hop in, we’re being silly.
We must comply with whatever standard of beauty happens to fit our culture and era, and if we’re unable to fit that mold, we are ostracized. We can’t shave our heads on a whim. Our Halloween costumes have to be sexualized. We’re supposed to be sexy, but if we cross the arbitrary line, we’re sluts. We can be superheroes, but only if we have gigantic breasts and tiny little waists.
I suspect that men rarely get leered at or scoffed at. Womansplaining isn’t a thing. If a man strongly insists that he does not need help with something, that help is not forced upon him.
If a woman is in a heterosexual relationship and she is highly successful, she has to downplay that success so as not to seem as though she is emasculating her man. In fact, in such relationships, he is always supposed to be stronger, smarter, more confident, more capable, and more active.
So, yeah, welcome to WomenWorld. I don’t recommend it. But then, you never really wanted to live here in the first place, did you, gentlemen? If you really want to see how little a man wants to be considered at all feminine, take him to a public place and say, “Here, hold my purse,” and then quickly walk away. Or toss him the pastel beach towel with flowers on it rather than the one with the bold, solid stripes. And a man has to have guts to wear pink, and must insist that he can’t tell if another man is good looking or not. How stupid is that?
I suspect that WomenWorld isn’t exactly going to improve in the current political atmosphere, in which people are being encouraged to reveal the very worst of themselves. We will be confined to even tighter spaces. We’ll be attacked more, verbally, emotionally, and physically. Bosses will take advantage, wage disparities will increase, and glass ceilings will get even lower. Domestic abuse will come out of the shadows. You can almost feel it in the air.
Men have no idea how tough women have to be to survive. Not a day goes by where we aren’t expected to deal with some kind of shit or another. Here is a ridiculous experience I had about 3 days ago that would never happen to a man in a million years:
I was pumping gas at COSTCO, as one does, and the attendant walked by. When he saw my vanity plate, he stopped. He stared at it for what seemed like ages, but was probably mere seconds. Then he said, “Can you tell me about your license plate?”
(It says BRGTNDR) “I’m a bridgetender. I open drawbridges for a living.”
“Oh,” he said. “I was going in a completely different direction with it.”
“Oh?” I asked. “What direction would that be, exactly?”
He said, while looking at me up and down (I’m not exactly a girly girl), “I thought it had something to do with the gender confusion problem people are starting to have these days.”
Huh? As far as I know, people don’t have a gender confusion problem. People know who they are. It’s other people having a gender acceptance problem that is the real issue. But okay. I didn’t feel like getting into a fight in a COSTCO parking lot (because, really, how tacky), so I just said, “Nah, man. I’m a bridgetender.”
He walked off. Then he stopped and turned around. “Wait.” He said. “You’re a bridgetender?”
He had that wow-how-cool look on his face. I smiled. I get that a lot.
But then his face changed, almost as if he remembered he was supposed to be the DEI-hating idiot that he is. Then his question turned into a comment with an entirely different emphasis. “You’re a bridgetender.”
As in, you can’t be a bridgetender because you’re a woman. Now, I used to think that that meant that men were actually stupid enough to think that gender prevented people from opening bridges. But I’ve come to realize that it’s more about power.
I’m not supposed to have the power to move a million pounds of concrete and steel. I’m not supposed to be controlling the flow of traffic. I’m not supposed to be in a man’s job. I’m definitely not supposed to be in a job that a man might envy.
Fortunately, by then my gas tank was full, so I returned the gas nozzle to its cute little cradle, got into my car, and watched the small-minded man with his boring little job get ever smaller in my rear-view mirror.
Happy International Women’s Day to all those who celebrate it. We have a long hard road ahead of us. Let’s take today to remember that we’re stronger when we cheer each other on. Wishing you tenacity, fortitude, and endurance, Dear Reader.
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