What an uneasy affair is this!
It’s not because some Freudian assumption or religious pre-selected role issue, it rather deals with the fact that you are shocked, displeased, mad or even horrendously jealous about my condition.
First of all, I’m NOT a feminist. I have respect for those who decide to follow up that path reserved to militant women, the hardest kind of women to be, now and since the world became to be “the world”. Feminism adds candor, vibrant theories and nearly too much discussion on the subject of womanhood, dealing and mixing biology with culture, politics, history, faith, and some future fantasies. I’m more basic and reserved, shy you might like to say. Upon realizing facts, it is impossible to stand indifferent, however, I’ll not shout either defend myself. I will apologize.
I’m a woman. Biologically speaking I’m not a male. Apologize factor number 1.
I’m a woman with a career, which means that I can, and do, provide for myself with dignity and a deep sense of pride, yes I’m prideful. My brain works as well as yours at creating ideas, modeling what our society could be at any time from now on. What used to be over-the-top selective “chats” on the “haps” among boys are today’s forcedly open to me. Apologize factor number 2.
I’m a woman having fun. Yes! Fun also happen to us, the female of the species. Let’s set aside what “fun” looks like for you: liquor, “chicks”, zero responsibilities, money and status. Freedom isn’t it? Let me drop a bomb, a woman can, and is FREE, regardless of what that term is stereotype by your prejudices. Being the “weaker gender” opens up fixed concepts long used, so keep the “Mad Men” dream, we, women, have the rest of what existence has to offer to have fun AND be free. Apologize factor number 3.
I’m a woman who eats shamelessly. Metrosexuals? Spare that! Having body issue is a given to us before carbs were the devil tasting yummy! Even though body image related illness are now accepted to “occur” in men’s land when was the last time you heard a friend regretting ice cream, checking size clothes over “M” with fear, being told by Karl (not Marx, the one in charge of Chanel) that he -or the fashion industry itself, for that matter- profoundly regret that you are not the ideal person, in fact denying the fault that girls, starting at 5 years old, are suffering (I use words carefully, for a man things “occur”, for a woman suffering HAS to be involved) signs of anorexia, bulimia, committing suicide and bullying among themselves. For him, his preferences are above me (he thinks) and I should be in a terrible sense of shame right now, after my fourth piece of cake and creamed coffee. Mr. Fashion Industry, eat your own crap. Shame is for cowards like you. Apologize factor number 4.
I’m a woman and people won’t react with pity when I show EMOTIONS. Real, intense feelings, yes, many say,”oh, it must be your time of the month”, some feminist take that as an insult, I laugh. It is “my” time of the month, EVERY DAY OF EVERY MONTH. Humans show SYMPATHY, closeness, and humanity. I get to see my peers (men and women) as they really are: vulnerable creatures. Do you know how joyful it feels to see souls instead of actings? Apologize factor number 5.
Therefore, I say:
I’m a woman so you don’t have to be one. For that, you have my deepest sorrow. I’m sorry.