A few matters of business before we get into it.
First.
Let me apologize (again) for my lack of posts lately. I’ve been consumed with work, and comedy, and friends, and life, and other writing projects. Life is full in a really fun, life-giving way. Incase you haven’t heard, one of those exciting projects is a new podcast I’ve started with some good friends, called Grown Ass Women. You should give it a listen. We’ve loved recording it, and hope you enjoy listening. (And we’re now on iTunes, so look us up for your commute!)
Next.
I want to mention that I recently wrote an article for HomeFront Monthly discussing the idea of privilege. It’s a short article but one I’m proud of, on a topic I hope to continue unpacking in my writing. I’d love if you hopped over and read it. You can download it for free, here. The cover looks gorgeous, too.
Alright, that’s all I have up top.
Let’s get to the beef.
Some of you are familiar with an internet debate about yoga pants. It started a few months back when a Christian blogger’s post went unexpectedly viral. In it, she explains her reasoning for giving up yoga pants/leggings in order to keep men from, you know, sexual thoughts. Lots of people had lots of opinions on this. Because, the internet.
Even though I tend to avoid internet debates, I found myself getting wrapped up in one on this topic a few weeks ago, with a man. It started out lighthearted but, after a few lobs, I’ll admit I escalated it. I couldn’t help myself. I felt like the guy I was talking with was missing a crucial element of womanhood. So, I went all out.
Below is the revised and edited version of my response. Consider this an open letter to men from women, in honor of International Women’s Day.
As always, thanks for reading.
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I don’t like to engage in Facebook debates when I am upset.
As a blogger, I think it’s important for us to use social media as a medium to exchange ideas. Social media allows diverse groups of people to share thoughts openly, unlike anything we’ve ever seen in history. That’s special. We have a lot to learn from each other. That’s why I don’t like to get too fired up. I know it can stand in the way successful self-expression.
That being said, I should clarify that I am upset. This is a trigger subject for me. It’s one of those topics that shoots me into high gear, quickly. So, I’m going to share some thoughts with you. But I want you to know that if it seems like I’m angry, well, I am. Hopefully you can find the patience to try to sort through my frustration and understand what I’m getting at, because I think it matters.
Today is a writing day for me. I don’t plan to see or impress anyone. My appearance reflects that. I’m wearing plain jeans and a baggy grey t-shirt. I have no makeup on. Regardless, five minutes ago I was catcalled on my walk into Starbucks. It didn’t phase me in the slightest. That happens a lot. This didn’t happen because I look particularly beautiful today. Trust me, I don’t. It happened because I’m a woman. Ask any woman. It has happened to all of us. Frequently.
Yesterday, while merely playing a trivia game on my phone, my opponent (a stranger) asked me for my number. Even though I ignored the messages he sent, he persisted. In fact, his messages were targeted at my appearance and became increasingly more inappropriate.
I’ve been in relationships where men (Christian and non-Christian men, alike) have shamed me for not engaging in sex. Close friends have been raped. Yes, plural. I was exposed to porn as a kid by a male.
I can’t go for a run at night because it’s unsafe. Friends have been attacked. Oh, I should also mention that I know several victims of domestic violence. So, sometimes it’s unsafe for women to be home, too.
On average, women are paid less and have fewer opportunities in the workforce. Don’t believe me? Check out this graph.
I’ve been sent more unsolicited dick pics than I can remember.
I know single mothers who are criticized for working two jobs to provide for their families, and others who are criticized for accepting welfare from the government. It sometimes feels like a lose-lose.
Right now, hundreds of girls in Nigeria have been abducted. And yet, the mainstream media doesn’t seem very concerned about it…
Women are more likely to be threatened on the internet than their male counterparts.
Historically, women have been property. Second class citizens. Objects to be devoured by men. So, yeah. A little part of me feels like I’m being controlled when you suggest it’s my responsibility to protect your purity.
Every second of every day, in advertising and in the media, women are fed an idea of how their bodies should look. We’re told it’s important to be sexy, but not too sexy. Because we’re also told that we’re supposed to be responsible for keeping men pure. But don’t be a prude, because then men won’t want you. But yoga pants are too much. But show more cleavage. But, only a little. You don’t want to be a slut. It can be really confusing!
So, I’m going to be honest. It’s really, really frustrating when men tell me how I should or should not dress. Not because I disagree with your point. You’re right. I should care about your purity. You should care about mine. Sure. We should help each other. That’s a good way to live.
I’m a little preoccupied, though.
If I’m responsible for your purity, shouldn’t you take a stance on equality? But frankly, I don’t know very many men who actively advocate for women’s rights. I can actually only think of (maybe!) five or six. Hell, activism aside, these aren’t the kinds of things I hear guys even discussing casually at parties, on social media, at the water cooler, or at men’s gatherings.
That being said, it’s challenging when a man says we should have each other’s backs because I don’t see that played out in male concern against domestic violence, date rape culture, workplace equality, and so on.
So, until we’re working on an equal playing field, please don’t try to coordinate my wardrobe. I need you to take responsibility for your thoughts, because I have an uphill battle to fight. And frankly, yoga pants are super comfy for that sort of thing.
