I was not born politically correct. As hard as my parents, friends parents and teachers tried, I failed to accept the status quo, instead asking a shit-load of WHY questions (and swearing a lot). Rules are not my friend, nor are institutions or religions that demand we act and think in a particular way (particularly when used to justify disgusting behaviour).
Because we don’t really know how we will respond to a situation until we experience it first hand, I like to let the present moment determine what the hell I do.
I am quite a conflicted cookie in my views, and while I aspire to be a special petal whose views are NEVER racist, sexist or discriminatory, selfish or materialistic, I am a sinful sista who isn’t necessarily seeking forgiveness. Being a perfect person can be hard, defining ‘perfect’ is even harder.
On my days off spent down-ward dogging & omm-ing and watching doco’s on the horrible injustices of the world, I’m all for the sharing of tax payers money, aid and support. How could I not be? There is enough wealth in the world for everyone to be equal.
However, I have had my moments, where my patience and perseverance has worn thin after eight gross hours of dealing with dick heads (the public)/ wiping babies bums and boogies (and vom) where I consider an ‘every man for himself ‘ attitude because I work HARD 4 da money (to hell I go!).
My constant battle between perfection and not giving a fuck includes the jumping between the months I choose to be murdered by hot wax and those I don’t, kale ‘chips‘ (they are NOT chips!) and hotdogs, and make- up over bare- faced beauty. While the sans- bra verses push up dilemma may seem trivial, it is one that is influenced by a cocktail of belief systems, that determine how I am apparently respected and valued as a human being, and as girl.
Having attended a private girls school for 10 long years of wearing mens shirts & ties and knee-length sacks designed to deflect as much ‘D’ as possible, the strong-willed, intelligent, healthy, determined, independent profile of #femininity was well and truly drummed into my straw hat sheltered noggin.
Studying social sciences, which involves a constant banging on about the lack of equality in the rights and respect I receive as an objectified female in a patriarchal society, has only highlighted the battle on new levels.
It would be safe to assume that my apparent free-spirited vibe and well-travelled life, combined with my education, hometown (‘hippy land’) (and past relationships) could possibly equate to a man- hating, system- bashing perspective that does not include razors, plastic surgery or, heaven forbid, loving a sinful, wealthy business man, and I would not DARE be caught dead in a kitchen baking scones, particularly if they are for a man.
OF COURSE the extent to which the wolves of wall street abuse their power infuriates me. The gender pay gap pisses me off, the thought or rape scares and disgusts me, and if a guy ever demanded sex or a sandwich, his little willy might be chopped right off. I can also recognise that I would born into a country where I don’t experience inhumane violations of rights or gender oppression either.
HOWEVER.. I feel like men can get a pretty bad rap these days, especially in relation to women’s insecurities and independence.
There are a lot of guys who participate in the same classes as me, who share a frustration with existing inequality and the agenda setters of the propaganda we are subjected to.
My counselling units consist of a cross-section of guys from different disciplines, and you know what? a lot of them are more empathetic and helpful in their practice (and general convo) than the ladies.
While I may have had my heart hurt, I’ve often run crying to my male pals who have spent hours listening to my dramatic outbursts and provided a lot of love and advice. It is not fair to assume men don’t experience the emotions women do, or to expect them to express them in the ways we do. There are gender differences, and the way I, along with my gal pals, often blame boys for our problems is pathetic.
One of the things I admire about a particularly friend of mine, is her honesty about her life goals. While she is a smart, pretty, open minded, well- travelled LADY with a business degree, she kinda just wants to marry to the man of her dreams, make some adorable bambinos and cook her Nonna’s lasagna.
Loving a man does not necessarily strip someone of their independence, especially if they have chosen to. As modern women we can be ‘strong’ and ‘successful’ and still want to be cuddled and reassured. And if we enjoy having the door held or accepting a free drink, then good for us! (Whats so bad about Chivalry?)
All I am saying, is that men are not the only cause of women’s issues, and it’s silly to generalise and put all the blame on them. Not all guys support the pay gap, nor do they only want girls for sex. As a naturally independent person, I am tired of being told that I must be so all the time, and that I shouldn’t wear a tight skirt unless I want to be objectified.
I like my ass, I like guys and I am a strong-minded (obviously), independent woman.