Yeah i guess i never realized that perspective, but i think we’re getting there. Slowly, but surely.
In case you still don’t understand how badly women have had it, when anaesthetic was first invented doctors weren’t allowed to give it to women who were giving birth because the church said that the pain of childbirth was God punishing women for not being men
Accurate post is accurate.
Reminds me of the time a lady told me whip doesn’t melt. Or a guy yelled at me for not understanding him/hearing him because he kept talking on the phone
For those in retail.
I worked in a Lil Caesars and a woman came in and wanted a sausage pizza with no sausage, but got mad when she was given a cheese pizza.
So when I worked at fitting room in Old Navy, a woman told me that a medium top was too small, and that the large top was too large. So she asked me to find her an “x-medium”. Old Navy carries x-small, small, medium, large, x-large, 1x, 2x and 3x. There is no “x-medium”. But she insisted, so I went and found her an “x-medium” (which was just a medium in a different color but the same top, same make, same EVERYTHING) and she goes very happily, “THIS! THIS FITS ME PERFECTLY! THANK YOU SO MUCH! See, you can do anything you can set your mind to!”
I’m a waitress at a big fancy resort, and once a woman asked me for a diet water and when I told her there was no such thing she demanded to see my manager (who then also promptly told her there was no such thing and brought her regular water).
Another occasion of stupidity occurred when a woman had been brought a steak cooked too much for her liking. I offered to take it back and bring her out a new one, cooked a little less, and she said “NO this one’s fine I just want you to cook THIS one a little less.” I then had to get the chef and have him explain why you can’t UNCOOK a steak.
When I was working at dunkin donuts there was this woman in the drive-thru who asked for a lightly toasted croissant and then started complaining that the croissant was warm. And wanted her money back, so she gave me the croissant back and I gave her the money and then she tells me “now i want my new croissant” she wanted a new one for free and as she was screaming at me this guy in a biker gang covered in tattoos leans over the counter in the store and yells “ma’am let me just tell you what we’re all thinking. fuck off, you stupid ****.” I couldn’t stop laughing and she drove away in anger.
Most of the people like in the stories above know that they’re being totally irrational, but also know that if they complain enough they’ll most likely get something free or discounted. So really most of the the nonsensical fucks are actually just cheap fucks with no shame or respect for people.
That last bit of commentary though.
I hate working with people
I noticed early on in my life the difference between the way my older brother was treated and the way I was treated, so I was quick to say I wanted to be a boy. I climbed every tree, jumped in every puddle, picked up every frog in every creek, and I cut my hair off. I didn’t voluntarily wear a dress or make up until I was about 15. I wrote stories about boy characters, I cried so hard when I got my period. Who would ever want to be a girl?
When I was 9, we lived within walking distance to a Blockbuster. My 13 year-old-brother could walk there and I was allowed to go with him to rent video games, but never alone. I, not seeing the world through the filter of dangers it presented to girls and women, eagerly awaited my 13th birthday so I could go by myself. The day came and I asked my mom if I could walk to Blockbuster. She said no. I was completely stunned and asked her when I would be old enough to go alone. She paused….and said “probably never.” That day was a realization for my thirteen-year-old self that the world was not going to be safe for me and I would never get the ease or comfort of doing things the ways my friends (mostly boys) could.
Oh man, I hated femininity and I blamed my body, but at the same time, I longed to see powerful women. All the characters in my comic books and video games that were interesting and strong were men. All the heroes and even people in general in history, all the people in government except for Hilary Clinton (who the people I grew up with hate) and Condoleeza Rice, all the action movie stars, all the comedians. Where were the women? They couldn’t ALL be teachers and stay-at-home moms….could they?
One of my first positive examples of female protagonists or even female characters in general came through Sailor Moon. Though the American version watered it down some and even censored a lesbian relationship, I went to a Japanese school and therefore I watched as many Japanese shows as possible in the original language. Sailor Moon taught me that it was okay to be feminine AND have interests that went outside of our expected roles. The two weren’t mutually exclusive. Miyazaki films tended to do the same thing: show women that were complex and multi-dimensional with interesting stories, problems, flaws, and strengths. Miyazaki creates films that everyone can enjoy, but his target audience is usually overlooked: little girls.
Even though I had these and a few other examples, I still grew up thinking women were inferior. My older brother constantly would say “women aren’t funny/smart/intellectual/strong/capable”. I heard those words out of his mouth almost daily. My younger sister and younger brother came along and heard that toxic garbage, too. I grew into a misogynist: I thought women were catty, unpredictable, boring, vapid, and shallow. I thought I was a much cooler girl because I played video games and read comic books. I wasn’t LIKE other girls. I was one of the guys. So when my male friends would joke about how awful women were and make terribly sexist jokes, I laughed along with them. Until they turned the very jokes I would crack against me and use my own thoughts about other women to invalidate me. Or worse, they couldn’t see me as a friend, they could ONLY see me as a woman, so eventually they cussed me out and blamed me for not dating them and being a frigid, friend-zoning bitch when they had never even told me they liked me in the first place. I DID friend-zone them….I thought they were my friends.
Whenever it was convenient, my gender could be used to silence me. If I had a dissenting thought or a new idea. If I were in a bad mood that day. My gender became a weapon to manipulate and control me on the basis of my identity. When I was around 17, I started discovering feminism. It was a breath of fresh air. All the sudden, I realized that I had been playing with a loaded deck from the start. If I were to like myself as a woman and even enjoy other women, I would be winning, and I was never supposed to winning. I was supposed to hate my body, I was supposed to compete with other women, I was supposed to be defeated from the start. Well, no more! I was out to change things.
It was a rocky start. I came out of the gate furious, realizing how many of my frustrations and failures came out of a system of sexism. I realized how sexism had long tried to deny me a voice. I was mad at men and absolutely livid that whenever I talked about it, men challenged the idea that women could still be facing sexism. I did a lot of yelling, a lot of crying, a lot of shifting in myself while I figured things out. I know I didn’t always handle things gracefully, and I am grateful for those who stuck by me while I was experimenting and forming my belief systems. I was so hurt, and I had been hurt for so long that I poured all that pain and shame into the cause of feminism with a ferocity that would have stunned a tiger.
I was tired of being told my body caused men to sin. I was tired of being told to “calm down” even when I was much more calm than the boy I was talking to. I was tired of walking down the street and cringing in a giant hoodie (even in the middle of summer) because I didn’t want strange men to recognize me as a woman and make comments. I was tired of being told women didn’t contribute anything to history. I decided I was going to dedicate my life to the cause of making the world a better, more balanced place for women.
Fast forward to today. I am at a place where I feel I am making a difference, even if just one conversation at a time. I have an easier time now (usually) when I come up against sexism because I am able to recognize that most of the time, the person on the other side doesn’t mean harm, they are just a product of their society and we can have a discussion about it without either of us needing to shut the other one down. It doesn’t always work out, but sometimes it does. I don’t get mad when people decide they don’t want to identify as feminists, though it does bug me a little bit when someone does so because they have a fundamental misunderstanding of what feminism is and means. I get messages at least once, but sometimes multiple times a week where people thank me for helping them open up to feminism and discover some new ideas. It makes me glow.
Now I spend a lot of time researching incredible women in history and sharing their stories. Jackie Mitchell, Sophie Scholl, Cecelia Payne, Rosalind Franklin, Hypatia of Alexandria. When even today, 78% of news stories are reported by men and only 20% of news stories focus on women and girls, it’s no wonder we have been so hidden and slipped through the cracks. Men have been told our stories are not interesting and our point of view is going to be skewed. Isn’t that funny? There have always been women scientists, mathematicians, comedians, writers, artists, inventors, athletes. They just had to jump hurdles that men never did and even quite often had their credit stolen. We don’t tend to hear about them. This is not all of my story. There is so much more to what went into making me a feminist, the journey into that label, the sexism faced throughout my life, and where I am today. I will more than likely edit and add to this post later on. I just wanted to give something to the people who ask about how I arrived here. So this is for you. And thank you for listening.