From an angry feminist to the men up to no good (TW)

It’s a simple world where the good man dwells. He has ideas about the role he plays in society and he works hard to maintain the way he is perceived. He loves his children and brings breakfast to his wife’s bed. He talks to other men about their balls because men don’t talk enough about their balls so he seeks to redress this, and for all his endeavours, he expects a pat on the head. What’s the point in being so damn good if nobody notices it?

The Good Men Project falls short at its name. We all know a ‘good man’ or a ‘nice guy’ who is keen to point out their goodness and niceness from the first time they speak to you. They’re so good, EVERYONE takes advantage and they always finish last. They’re just waiting for the right woman to come along and it will have all been worth it. But the reality being what it is, she doesn’t exist to please him (and why the hell should she)? This is when good men go bad. Much like teh menz over at The Good Men Project, good men have an idea of what they need in their lives to enable the good man to flourish from within.

Good men like a good woman. Don’t be angry now wimminz, good men don’t like it when wimminz shout. Or have an opinion for that matter. Actually, a good woman is allowed an opinion because ‘naturally’ that opinion will echo that of the good man. In this way, the good man is free to work out his biceps whilst the good woman is happy to play wifey to her man. It’s not like it’s his fault 1 billion women across the world are experiencing violence or oppression because of their sex. And just because there are billions of men beating and humiliating those other women, doesn’t mean we have to be angry at the other billions of men who are not abusive, we just need to be better at seeking the good ones out. Oh wait, which ones were the good ones again?

To paraphrase: “I was really angry right, cos some men sexually abused me once but I got over that cos these other men do these lovely things for me”. Nondescript men, or decent people, do nice things for other people cos it’s being human. Many men have been nice to me but I tell you what, they didn’t make the pain of being violated more bearable.

Oh, thank you for my perfect birthday weekend nice man, it really made up for that time the mosque teacher slid his hand up my 9 year old thigh. All better now.

Gosh, those flowers are amazing! I don’t think I’m ever gonna think about the time I was gang raped EVER AGAIN. I can stop being angry now; I know not all men are the same. I love all teh menz!

Are you fucking kidding me?

The Good Men Project published this piece in all seriousness. As if sexual violence was the only thing spurring on billions of women to fight against the oppression they face, they found a poor soul with an all too familiar story and a warped sense of her role in a patriarchy, so much so she believes these minor gestures of love and affection (that are her RIGHT and a bare minimum of human decency) are somehow to be commended, and ran with it as their answer to the angry feminist threatening their male goodness.

Feminism exists for more reasons than a good man can fathom, evidently. As feminists we are fighting for bodily autonomy. We are angry for the demands put on our bodies, from puberty through to pregnancy we are controlled by the patriarchy. Our breasts aren’t big enough or they’re so big we tempt strange abusive men into having a go. Pubic hair is more often than not groomed to please the eye of the beholder; we have very little choice over how we look down there. Teh menz invented labiaplasty for those whose vulvas resemble that of a grown woman. I’m not a big fan of porn (ahem) but in the interests of research, I’ve seen the patriarchal ideal shift. Women’s bodies have changed drastically from the 70s to present day, in appearance and also the ways in which they are used. Newspapers and magazines bombard us with images of ridiculously tall white cis gendered wimminz with tans in ridiculous suggestive poses (legs akimbo/shaking a tail feather) and anyone falling short of this ideal just isn’t worthy. We are constantly fighting the battle for the right to choose what happens to our pregnant bodies. Some of cannot be pregnant, some of us will be forcibly impregnated and many more will break their backs working right up to the birth for fear they will lose their jobs in this patriarchal man’s world. And before Junior cracks his first smile, we’ll be leaking breast milk at work, crying in a toilet cubicle, torn between needing to be with our young and needing to work in order to survive. But wait, patriarchy has an answer! You need a manz to provide! He’ll be earning more than you for a start. Even if he beats you, cheats, uses your body at will. Know your place woman; pregnancy is vulnerability and teh menz like the sound of that. Good Men will even do the hoovering, cos they’re good like that. Just keep your gold stars handy and they might even do it again.

“I certainly had a lot of reasons to be angry. I was sexually assaulted”. That’s one reason, Good Men Project writer. Where were your words regarding the systematic control of women in the workplace, the streets and at home?

“The truth is that most men are not rapists.” That is not what my male friends tell me. But then I guess this depends on your definition of rape. Do you mean rape or ‘bad sexual etiquette’?

“Of course, I had a right to be angry at the men who hurt me. But I didn’t have a right to hold all men everywhere responsible for what happened to me. And by being angry, I was shutting down the possibility of love”. I have every right to hold patriarchy responsible for the ways in which it controls women. Unfortunately the patriarchy is mostly made up of men. I am angry but there is love in my life. It surrounds me and supports me. Anger at the patriarchy is one of my redeemable features and shock horror; there are men that get why! And totally dig it.

“For example, my brother steadfastly believed what happened to me and validated..” STOP. Were your experiences more or less validated because he is a man?

“And so did the mac and cheese he made me when I was sad, and the hours of Nintendo-playing we did when I was too down to do anything else.” This is why I love my girlfriends. I don’t need to thank them for providing me with distractions; it’s just how we roll. All of the time, and mostly with little significance.

“He turns up the heat when it’s cold. He walks the dog when I don’t want to go outside. He puts gas in the car.” He basically functions as humans do. Respect.

“Men love survivors of sexual violence every single day” Can you believe it? Have they no shame..? I’m sorry, but what exactly does this line mean?

“Most men are horrified by sexual violence and its impact on those they love.” Unless you’re asleep and it’s the second insertion of the day, you’ve already given consent and it can’t be violent if there weren’t any bruises.

“They want to help, but feel powerless – and afraid to say or do the wrong thing.” They feel this way because they are aware of how big patriarchy is and they know they can’t battle it alone. They stay silent because it’s too risky.

“If we want men to join the movement to end rape and sexual violence, we have to stop talking about all the things men do wrong, and start talking about all the things that men do right.” I know a few honest men who deserve genuine praise. Generally they read, retweet and shut the fuck up. They don’t dare to presume what women need in order to achieve equality. They are there to support us, not take over (take note you fucking good men). They have an appreciation of what thousands of years of subjugation has done to womankind. As our allies, they are happy for us to take the floor.

Unlike the good men and the nice guys who, under threat that the wimminz might take over (we’re a few hundred years off that sonny jim), use every vulnerable/disillusioned woman (who may or may not have listened to angry feminist folk music..)  they can find to undermine our crucial movement.

Feminism isn’t fun and sexy, it’s angry. Fighting oppression and for our basic rights does this to us.

May your anger over floweth and the good man/nice guy fadeth away. A-wo-men.

The shame I used to feel; one year on

It’s always good practice to stop and take stock of our surroundings. Almost a year ago, I wrote a piece to remind myself and others of why we still need feminism. It was called ‘The shame we feel as women’ and detailed the ways in which we are controlled by the patriarchy that ensure we cannot break free. Patriarchy is focused on our physical appearance and anything other than a well fed able bodied cis gendered male is open to scrutiny and our value is judged accordingly on how much we please teh menz. Being a feminist; and an angry one at that too, I’ve stopped decorating myself the way I did in my 20s. This means less make up, fashion apathy and a whole lot less hair (on my head I mean). I don’t look that much different, a little curvier perhaps but that’s what happens when you stop starving yourself so you fit in. My eyebrows aren’t so arched and my body hair matches my bonce. I have saved a FORTUNE on bleach and razor blades. And this season’s colours. I am happier as a result but maybe less pleasing on the male eye.  An old acquaintance unwittingly put it in into context for me; after congratulating me on my feminist efforts, he asked where I stood on the whole “feminism vs. femininity” issue.

I took this mean he didn’t fancy me anymore and breathed a tiny sigh of relief. But what he was doing was in fact insulting me. As if they are mutually exclusive; there are two camps of women in the world, those that like being hounded and harassed and those that unpretty themselves to avoid being hounded and harassed. That’s the way patriarchy’s brain functions.

Grooming, especially body hair removal, is time consuming and expensive. I stopped plucking, waxing and bleaching because it was actually physically painful and damaging my skin and I suddenly realised I wasn’t doing it for myself but patriarchy. I had an ex that was obsessed with tweezers and would make his skin bleed in an attempt to tame his mono-brow but his obsession did not end with his own body hair, he was constantly on at me too, quite often without my explicit consent. Being with him made me feel dirty and somehow excessively hirsute; I am astonished that my self-esteem was low enough to allow this kind of behaviour. But then, I was probably about 15 the first time I was shamed for having body hair. For almost half of my life, I put myself through an ordeal trying to battle with something that naturally occurs on all humans, sprouting to protect us and signify sexual maturity. No wonder they want rid.

The other significant and healthy realisation I had was that I was not born to fit the missing piece of some man. All of society is centred on the belief that you are somehow incomplete until you find the love of your life and create babies. Never is this more apparent than in your late 20s. One by one your peers fall into line and it is you that is somehow tainted for not doing the same. Don’t get me wrong, I TRIED, but I wasn’t ever happy to settle for anything less than equality, honesty and respect. I know what those things feel like and I don’t think hetero-normative relationships within a patriarchy provide the right conditions. Male privilege infects even our closest allies.

They’re quite happy for you to do all the washing and the hoovering but cooking’s fine, cos it’s a fun activity and “all the best chefs are men”. They’ll continue to shout over you in a group discussion and defeated, you’ll sink back. Many more of them will suddenly feel victim to reverse sexism as if equality was achieved just a second ago and already the wimminz are on top. Does one of the lives in a relationship mean more than the other? Who gets to choose the life plan? Women’s bodies are trying to get pregnant, that’s what some of our bodies are designed to do yet so many are switched off to this basic of functions and instead blame the person carrying the womb for tricking the sperm provider into maliciously impregnating her. Why do men freak out when you mention your cycle? And there is nothing a misogynist man dislikes more than a woman who speaks to other women. They call it gossip and being nosy but much like all the other rules in our world, this is a patriarchal notion that leaves women isolated and paranoid. We should all talk to each other more. If we did, there’d be a whole lot more truth in the world. With transparency, we might put an end to abuse.

As a result of my awakening, I have lost what I thought were a few good friends. I can no longer abide a racist/sexist/..ist etc. comrade irrespective of the many years we spent huddled together. It no longer suits me to turn a blind eye or pretend words were never said. I am the sum total of all my experiences and the company I keep reflects that. My life is enriched by the people I see, it’s not as draining as it once was and it’s not so much of a struggle to be accepted for who I am, not the image I thought I had to present. I am even more disconnected from society than I was previously and whilst this is good for me, looking in at the rest of the world has sent me to new levels of despair.

We are still fighting for liberation. The basic rights we had begun to take for granted seem flimsy and constantly under threat. The stand-off against four no-choicers a coupla Sundays ago was surreal. Taking a picture of them was ‘aggressive’ and they weren’t happy. I don’t remember feeling particularly overjoyed either. Intimidated, yes. What could these four, rosy cheeked men tell me that I hadn’t already heard before? As it turned out, not a lot and very soon after, two of them withdrew. It wasn’t a productive day in that nothing was achieved; it was more a battle of wills in broad daylight.

This shit shoulda ended in the 70s! And you know why it didn’t? Cos second wavers were too busy looking after themselves! Feminism is for all self-identifying women right?

How many women is that?

It’s an army.

I’ve had my rows with the feminists that came before me and I’ll continue to row down the kyriarchy with them for a long time to come. But when it comes to smashing the patriarchy, I am an ally. I didn’t have a family; I didn’t stand a chance with my education. The colour of my skin has always raised questions. But I am still a woman and I have privileges many others don’t.

I’m doing Feminism for every single person oppressed by patriarchal shame.

And so should you.

It’s Not Sacrifice, It’s Compromise

Boy meets girl. Girl likes boy. Boy and girl love everything about each other, “it’s like we’re soulmates”. They shack up and he says “don’t ever change”. It’s cos he loves everything about her, he says. Girl feels smug and happy to have found her other half. Now life can really begin.

Life is one big honeymoon. Boy can’t do enough to spoil his favourite girl and girl is overjoyed he feels this way. It’s early days but he/she is the one. She is looking forward to meeting his friends. They’re a nice bunch, most are married and they all seem to get along. Except.. Whenever there’s a big night out, the wives always stay at home. Boy says to girl “sshh, don’t tell any of the WAGS, they wouldn’t like it if they knew you were coming.” Girl feels privileged but also a little bit wrong. “But why can’t they come?” Well.. “Cos they’re a bunch of lushes and I do not want to talk about children when we’ve had a few. Anyway, you’re different, Pixie.” Girl thinks this has not cleared the matter for her. Boy also has two children from a previous relationship. Why would he not want to talk about his children?

“It’s funny,” he carries on, “I still have all my friends from uni, we even moved to the same area to be together afterwards, but the other day, I asked Kay who the bridesmaid in her wedding pics was,” rolls his eyes, licks the cigarette paper “it was someone she hasn’t spoken to in 15 years. I mean, this person was a bridesmaid at her wedding! I’ve asked the other girls too, none of them are in touch with their old friends anymore”. Girl didn’t have to think very hard before she responded, “they’re mothers now. They don’t have the choice”. Boy goes all soft focus, the cogs ticking away in his head.. “I never thought of it like that before,” he says.

“No, you just thought they weren’t very nice people!”

Women go through their first physical and mental transformation as young girls. Sure, boys go through puberty too, they change physically to become bigger and stronger. In comparison, they evolve rather than transform. For a girl, once she begins her period and physically begins to resemble a woman, she is no longer the same person. There are certain expectations of her. She is on course to fulfilling her biological destiny and if, for whatever reason, she decides it is not for her; society will frown upon and call her barren. Or butch. Just plainly, unnatural. Men, on the other hand can leave it as long as they like. For some, becoming a father means they’ll have to do some overtime and working as hard as they do, it’s only fair they rally the boys and blow off some steam come the weekend.

“You said you’d be in this weekend”, girl says dejectedly. Boy flares his nostrils and avoids looking her in the eyes.

“What is this? I thought you were happy with me spending time with the boys?”

Girl thinks hard of what to say next, she wouldn’t want to be accused of being a nag.

“I just thought we could spend some time together.” He starts pacing, pretending to look for his keys. He doesn’t like this creeping feeling of neediness. What is it with women?

“Look, I told you in the beginning, this is the way I live my life. I told you I wouldn’t change, but YOU have.” Girl feels guilty but also angry. She’d dreamed of one day finding the one. They would spend every second together because she thought that was what it would be like to be in love. Boy was almost 35; surely he’d had enough of the boys by now?

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll find something else to do.” Boy sulkily brushes past her and gathers his things together.

”Go where you like but don’t hang out with that tosser I don’t like and don’t wear that dress you bought yesterday, it makes you look like a tart.” Girl sinks a bit deeper.

When two people come together, they do because of the love they feel for each other. Most people have an idea of what they want from a relationship, most people want commitment and to be part of a unit. Relationships have a natural progression. When most women become mothers, they will never be the same again. They can never go back to the time just before they got pregnant. This is also true of women who do not carry full term. Something fundamental changes in their perspective on life, be it the combination of hormones and stress or a spiritual awakening and connection with creation, life is not just about having fun. It is about nurturing and selflessness. She is no longer number 1, she is 1 of 2. Old university mates will never be forgotten, bridesmaids are etched in our hearts but the screaming, pooping, and feeding is current and constant.

How involved the father is, is entirely down to how committed he is. There are fathers who bathe their children, mop the sick up, read them a story and put them to bed. They enjoy their children’s company and don’t call it babysitting. But there are many others who become violent when mothers are at their most vulnerable. “She made me do it with her whinging, moaning, nagging, trouble-making”. Pregnancy is not a walk in the park! Expect tears.

“I’m still the same person I’ve always been. I’ll never change.”

More fool you.