Sexism

I never thought that sexism needs to be explained. When I was a little girl it was self-explanatory. It was evident. It was real. Sexism is alive and well today, but it’s hidden behind surreal “issues”.

While procrastinating on twitter, as I often do when I have no interesting projects, I came across a word that shocked me: manspreading. This word didn’t shock me because it apparently refers to the way men naturally sit. It shocked because it’s a fake word. This word was used in a NEWS article about two men. These two terrible criminals were arrested for “taking too much space” on a bus. http://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-06-01/first-person-arrested-for-manspreading-in-new-york/6511362

Villians! Monstrosities!

Apparently, some feminists (quasi-feminists) coined this ridiculous term. They also invented some other hilarious additions to the sacred dictionary. All of them aimed at belittling men. Now I can see the appeal. They have belittled us for centuries, why not. Unfortunately, this goes beyond a bad sense of humor.

These women have decided that everything is sexism. From looking at a woman “the wrong way” to calling a bitch, well a bitch. Thus, I have decided to use some real examples of sexism to explain the difference. I hope.

Example No.1:

When I was 8 years old, I started playing football. To Americans soccer, but to everyone else a man’s sport. I enjoyed the game, the strategy, and the friends. It was fun and I was good. I was playing at school and left, right, center GOOOOAAALLLLLLL. But alas a foul was called. What was my mistake? It wasn’t offside, I didn’t touch another player. A small, 3 inch, Spanish 8-year-old boy explained it to me. You see it wasn’t a real goal because I am a girl. I should cook, clean and shut up when he’s talking.

That’s sexism.

I kicked his ass and was sent to the principles office.

Example No.2:

My brother has hair like I imagine Samson had. Beautiful dark, curly locks. He loves heavy metal, and girls, and his hair. However, because he’s a boy he had to keep it short. Our school had a strict dress code, so he accepted the rules. Once school was out forever, he let it grow. Alas, a couple of cops stopped him. No man in his right mind would wear his hair long, he must be on drugs. He cut it short to avoid future run-ins (he had 5 or 6 in total).

That’s sexism.

Example No.3

I went on a job interview for a bartending job. The pay was good and the cafe right across from my apartment building. I had experience, charm, and a good work ethic. I was informed that I was cute, even likable, but a girl. A girl simply can’t be a bartender. It’s a hard job, and I can’t possible do all that heavy lifting. Besides, I’m pretty, what if I flirt too much? Would I cause problems? I was tired and angry and jobless. Just because I’m female. I stayed until they gave me the job.

The fact that I had to beg, that’s sexism.

Example No.4

When my son was 6 months old, I had to go to training for a new job. One I’m not that good at, but I had to try. For my family. My husband was delighted that he got the opportunity to spend all that time with his son. To feed him, teach him, love him. Staying at home was also a welcomed change as he usually works anywhere between 10 and 14 hour days. It was a nice change for the both of us. He was happy. But alas his WHOLE male family, minus a few, were so angry with ME. You see raising kids and cooking (both enjoyable, both difficult) is a woman’s job. How dare I impose this on my poor, dear husband. He was angry. Very.

That’s sexism.

There are so many examples from my own life that I could share. Too many. I think these few explain my point. Sexism is forcing any human being to be something or someone based on their gender. It doesn’t really matter who is at the delivering or receiving end. By allowing sexism to exist we are all losing our freedom. Our basic human right to work, live and be happy.

This is why I call myself a feminist. I hope to piss enough people off so something will change. All I want is freedom. Common sense is a given ladies. Inventing words doesn’t make you sound smart. It makes the rest of us with a point lose our voice.

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Love

Love

First I would like to clearly state that I am not a romantic. I enjoy romantic comedies, but in real life, I am not big on dramatic gestures. I am not big on drama of any kind. In other words, this is not a romantic gesture. This is not some sappy love story to make him happy. This is an honest post about why I love him.

When I met my now husband, he was many things to me but the love of my life was not one of them. I thought he was obnoxious. Sometimes even rude. I thought he was too cool. Too closed off and reserved. Plainly put, I did not like him much. Rather, he made me nervous. By the time we met, my heart was already broken and twisted in so many ways, in so many places, that I knew every negative form of love. I knew exactly what it meant to be with the mysterious type. Either the guy was simply boring underneath it all, or something far more sinister. The darkness that was well hidden always proved to be a lack of emotion or empathy. At this time, I didn’t believe in “just a shy guy” or introverts in general. Which is funny, because I tend to lose myself in my own thoughts all the time.

As I got to know him, I found out that in fact he was obnoxious. He was fully aware of his own intellect, and wouldn’t be humbled. I didn’t mind, it made me giggle. I found out that he is not shy but rather has no wish to meet new people. To have his heart broken in new ways. We got to know each other and fell in love. Mushy I know, but it happened.

What followed was not a world wind romance. We had fun, of course, we always do, but there was no drama. We started living together and there were no crazy arguments about who did what, who went where. I loved it. LOVED IT.

My life is full of drama. Some days it’s the greek variety with irony, and tragedy and laughter all intertwined. Some days it’s more like a politically correct play. The purple elephant in plain sight, but described so as to not hurt its feelings. Those are good days. Those are slow days. The days that make me want to run away anywhere are the full blown, foreign language, Spanish soap opera variety. These are the days when I’m not sure who went where with whom, and whose fault it was that they were late because he forgot to call them. They, in turn, are angry with her, because she promised but she slept in and somehow it always comes back to me. ALWAYS. These days I switch my phone off.

So back to my husband. He offered me something no boyfriend ever has before. Peace. There are a few people outside of my family with whom I am happy to be silent with. My mind always racing when I’m in a crowd. It’s probably a form of anxiety. A handful of people makes me comfortable enough to just breath. He is one of them. And once I had that I didn’t need anything else. I was happy. But he had other plans. He gave me more.

When our son was born it is needless to say that we learned to love each other more and on a new level. When you look into the eyes of your child, you can’t help but feel that your hubby got you the best present ever. Obviously, this is after the pregnancy. Definitely after the delivery. At those times, your hubby is the villain that ruined your body with this football that is about to come out. After that, after you sleep more than 3 seconds each night. That’s when it hits you. The love of your love gave you eternal love. Whatever happens next, I will forever love my son. Whatever tomorrow brings, I will have love, forever.

At this point, I was very happy. But life, mine anyways, is a soap opera. That beautiful moment was a commercial break. Life continued with my best friend and godmother (long explanation of my culture and traditions…later) marrying my brother in law, while my mother was breaking up with her boyfriend passionately, and my father was getting married privately, and my brother got two dogs, but one dog was too much, so one dog went to live with my mother, and the other almost bit my kid, which is why I am no longer talking to my brother’s girlfriend, though they recently broke up and BREATH. Can you imagine asking me “So, how was your day?” and getting an honest answer. I should probably start with “Grab something to eat and sit down. This will take a while.”

Either way, I am satisfied. I have the calm wind that is my husband, the electric impulse that is my son, the honest anchor that is my mom and drama, drama, drama. I have it all. I wouldn’t want it any other way. I was content. But then the love of my life decided to give me more. He gave me something I lack, always. Self-confidence and pride. I don’t know why, but it’s not a thread in my cloth. And he is slowing weaving it. Between the crazy and loving he is slowing adding this new, bright thread. It can be seen from anywhere, and it looks good. It’s the little things he does. Telling me to work harder, because he knows I’m a good writer, just lazy. Discussing the way our money is handled, because he knows I’m smart, just not the most responsible. Telling people that I know what I’m doing and to back off. He’s not humoring me, he really does believe in me. So now I believe in me. This form of honest respect is building me up. Slowly, step by step, I am able to do things I would otherwise never dare. Show my talent, allow the world to criticize me.

I can only imagine what he has planned for me in the future. Even though life can be tough, I have to remember this. Because this is why I love him. Because of everything he is and will be. Not the interests that come and go, not the things he does on a daily basis. But, the things he has given me and continues to give. Love. Respect. Joy. These are the thing every little girl should want from her prince. And when you do ladies, don’t complain about the big romantic gestures that he doesn’t have a knack for. Remember that night he tucked you in, or when he defended you in front of his friends. Remember when he argued with you because he values your opinion. Life is not a movie, it is so much more.