A Story About A Woman on International Women's Day

There’s been a lot in the news about gender inequality, general horrible occurrences involving women, and a steady undercurrent of misogyny in all corners of the internet. This coupled with my own realizations about internalized prejudice about womanhood finally came to a head when I was asked if I wanted to see Captain Marvel and my visceral reaction was no way. I chalked up my immediate knee-jerk decision to not knowing anything about the superhero themselves and being uninterested in learning. However, upon further examination of these troubling thoughts, I realized it was much more than not knowing who Captain Marvel was, but coming to the conclusion my indifference stemmed more from this character being a woman.

I know. I was upset with me too, and I’ve been spending these last few days trying to understand how I could have succumbed to the anti-women narrative surrounding this movie without reading or seeing a single piece about it. As I mentioned previously, I was coming to terms with my own feelings of inadequacy. This stemmed from an acknowledgement about a personality trait I’ve harbored most of my life as a result of, what I think, being a woman in this patriarchal society. I’m not saying my experience is reflective of every woman, because obviously we all have our own journeys that mold us into who we are, but I wanted to share mine.

My scary spiral started when it came to my attention I haven’t gotten a raise in a few years and I started researching my current role, finding I wasn’t being paid even close to market. In charge my friends- self-doubt, pity, and anger at myself- along with my homeslice, relentlessly-berating-myself wondering how I could’ve let this happen.

Generally, I’ve been described as “chill,“ which never bothered me before, but then started to associate that term with docile, weak, feeble, unworthy. My once coveted calm and collected demeanor became something I started to hate about myself and was upset I let that part of me leak into my work life. I don’t mind being described as even-tempered, but when it comes to fighting for myself and my worth, there was a piece of me that always told myself I knew how to do that. There was a piece of me that knew if I were taken advantage of I would instinctively know what to do and handle the situation accordingly. It never occured to me that being “chill” meant I was forgiving transgressions and not understanding my worth.

I started taking necessary steps to rectify the situation, but the damage was done. I blamed myself for not speaking up sooner and started re-examining the how I interacted on a daily basis. I read a number of articles about women in tech and women in the workforce and discovered I wasn’t the only one who felt undervalued. In so many aspects of our lives, women are told to stay in their place and not be too boisterous, and though this sentiment is certainly shifting, it’s still going to take some time to permeate and become the new normal.

I got angry at myself for not speaking up, then came internalizing that anger and becoming aggressively critical and embarrassingly jealous of the women around me who haven’t fallen into docility. It wasn’t fair and it was absolutely a mechanism to make myself feel better. All of this to get back to Captain Marvel- arguably the most powerful character in the entire Marvel universe. Her story should have given me excitement. The thought of her being this indelible force that cannot be contained is a powerful testament to womanhood, but being lost in my own dumb issues blinded me to this.

Luckily, I watched it anyway, because there was a part of me that knew I had to, and I’m so glad I did. I won’t include any spoilers here, but the friendships between the women in the movie, the message of being comfortable with who you are, questioning the establishment, and not letting anyone tell you who you are has resonated so deeply in me. I left that movie feeling so empowered and so grateful to have my perspective and so much more willing to forgive myself. Definitely, still going through the motions, but making an effort to read, watch, and listen to even more women. I am so much more powerful than I give myself credit for. We all are.

I’m forgiving myself and being more gentle. Acknowledging change is hard, but definitely worth it. I look forward to working through this and becoming a better woman and human.

It’s mf International Women’s Day and I embrace all of my ladies from all walks of life just fighting through the bullshit, powering through the patriarchy, douching out misogyny, and stomping on antediluvian notions of femininity.

Get ready world. This bitch bites.
Omg, that was so cheesy. Okay I’m done.

It's a man's world.

*Sitting in the corner of a six-person seat on the metro north feeling strangely uncomfortable not only because I’m squeezed near the window surrounded by men, but feel like they expect me to fold within myself to take up less room while they manspread all over the place. 

The man in front of me keeps stepping on my foot but in a very awkward way that makes me think he’s not just fidgeting but intentionally encroaching on my space. This. This is what it feels like to be a woman every day. There are moments I have every single day that make me grossly aware of my womanhood. In a way that makes me feel worried about my safety. I worry men will take advantage of me or mistreat me solely because they feel they can. Ugh, he’s seriously pushing his feet onto my side so my legs are sandwiched between his. I’m literally trapped here.*

This brings me to that protest on twitter that was ultimately about women being attacked and silenced both in social media and IRL. The entire point of a protest is to make people uncomfortable and to shed light on an otherwise ignored or (another word for “not thought about”) idea. That particular protest I felt went beyond just Rose Mcgowen’s account vein suspended and extended to every woman who has been the subject of men’s oppression which is let’s face it - all of us. It’s about calling attention to the injustices women face for just being a woman.

When the protest started there was immediately a backlash. People were saying silence was not the answer and that it’s silly to stop speaking since that is literally the point. That this platform gives you a voice. I get that. However, being off Twitter- one social media platform among very many- isn’t silencing yourself considering there are plenty of other ways to get your voice heard including, calling your senator to make sure women’s rights are in the forefront of their minds, writing pieces on inequities and misogyny that exists in myriad ways in society, speaking IRL to young women in your community encouraging them to speak up if they’re faced with oppression. Look at the attention that little hashtag got. People are talking and that is how change starts. Regardless if you don’t agree with this particular tactic. It worked. Twitter is now cracking down on trolls. Praise be.

UNFORTUNATELY, shortly after that hellish train ride, I had another questionable encounter with a man who asked me for directions then began to tell me he worked for [insert large entertainment company here] and asked if I had a few minutes to spare as I was walking to the train. He told me he wasn’t hitting on me, which I honestly didn’t think he was doing until he said it. I told him I didn’t have any time to speak at the moment and he told me earlier in the conversation he had a card but didn’t make any moves to offer it to me after declining his request to speak somewhere. It was all too much in the wake of the Weinstein I felt stupid and a little slighted that 1) I didn’t get that card, 2) was possibly being coerced into an uncomfortable situation 3) I’m completely overthinking this and that man was just being kind but in this day and age you can never fucking tell so you have to put your guard up and keep your wits about you so you don’t fall prey to a ‘nice guy’ trap because men are somehow getting angrier and stealthier about hurting women.

In this day and age, it’s been so hard to grasp reality and today was just super frekkin weird one.

* Note: I wrote that first part while literally on the train as it was happening. Writing is the only thing that kept me sane while I silently suffered. Yes, I feel like I should’ve said something, but I’m awful at confrontation and it paralyzed me. I’m not proud of it and I hope I can find the strength to be more vocal if anything like that ever happens again.