I know we’re living in the 21st century. All women know that.
But how can we accept our new roles as being the equals of men?
I myself am guilty of this “feminist” sin – believing that men are better than me. I find myself becoming jealous at how easy it is for them to join a team, to get a hole-in-one or get that discarded paper ball in the rubbish bin with every toss, to be paid more for doing the same job, to be accepted into a senior role without feeling that you’ve done something wrong. And I think to myself that perhaps the men really are better than me after all.
But there are other things I’m jealous of men for: for not feeling the need to look over their shoulders every time they walk down a dark alley, to not feel as though they have to carry a bottle of pepper spray within easy reach, to not be afraid that when they hoot at a rude person on the road that they might step out of the car and want to harm them, to not feel as though simply walking through Checkers makes them feel as cold and objectified as the salami they’re walking past.
And the fact that I am actually afraid of men makes me realise that it is not them who are better than me. If all it takes to make men afraid of me is centuries of brainwashing about being the weaker of the species, centuries worth of literature telling women how they should be, centuries worth of violence against women being dusted under the carpet – if that’s all it takes, then they’re no better.
Without all those centuries, all we would be is…equal.