Let Me Be a Woman - A Real Woman

I love being a woman.

I love everything about it. Not just my ability to give life, but the more frivolous things, such as wearing make up, and skirts; being allowed to cry in public, and exhibit emotions in general.

But I don't like it when I'm told by you, my dear brother, that because I'm a woman I must somehow be emotionally incontinent; that I must somehow not be a serious person because I wear pink, and that it's my fault if I make myself too pretty, and you can't handle it.

I don't like it when you tell me that I need someone to tell me what to do "for my own good"; that I cannot/shouldn't make decisions for myself, because I'm a woman. 

I don't like it when you say I'm not capable of logic because I'm a woman and tell me to be silent, only to turn around and use my silence as proof that women aren't capable of logical thought

I don't like it when you say I'm the weaker sex because I'm a woman, and ignore the pain of having twenty of your bones being crushed simultaneously, the pain I endured in childbirth.  

I don't like it when you squeeze me into any mold that you need me to be in; if it's wartime I must be brave, if it's not, I must let a man be brave for me; if there is too much work to be done, then I must work; if not enough, I must stay home. Whatever mold puts you at the top, that's what you will use to prevent me from becoming your equal.

Why is that, my dear brother? 

Why can't you see me as your equal? What scares you so much that you must use God's words to prevent from me from becoming who you are, a human with all the rights and responsibilities that come with that humanity.

The first woman was created from the man; what he was, she was. All I ask is that you see me the way the first man saw the first woman, with the same joy, instead of the fear that came with the fall that keeps us, your sisters, from ever becoming what we were created to be. 


All I ask is for you to let me be a woman - a real woman.