sigh

WIP .

there will always be a less deserving woman, an imperfect victim. this is the condition of liberal ‘circumstantial’ feminism. wherever men cannot find a witch to burn they revel in the convenience that we will construct one for them. a women’s liberation movement that rests on the crutch that it is okay to condemn the less desirable women who speak out about abuse is not a women’s liberation movement, it is a cultural PR stunt that holds women’s pain for ransom, lest their lived experience makes men uncomfortable. these men are the female essayists friends, fathers, boyfriends. they might don coloured nails and venus symbols, they drink lattes and nod sympatheticaly at your rants that could page books in cries for justice, they totally get it- and they think it’s badass that women get their tits out on marches. we listen to their valiant accounts of the women they’ve walked home from clubs, blush at their stories of sexual conquest, in earnest hope that this oppressor can be tamed with a soft hand, that he’s one of the good ones.

could it be enough? that they don’t take her home till they get the yes? that they *only* called that girl a bitch because she annoyed you? that they heroically spewed misogynistic bile toward a woman, but only because of what her stories will do to ‘real’ victims? for every white knight there is a TRUE enemy. a deserving outlet , a harlot. and for every one of these ‘sympathetic men’, there is a woman who bites her tongue, who sleeps in his bed, puts his hatred towards his mother down to legitimate trauma, his hatred for sex workers down to honest concern for womens welfare. let’s admit without apology that we will sooner be in his firing line than his good graces. let’s admit without apology that our civility is a domestic service. that our bodies have been currency since the second we grew into them, that his mothers home cooking is all that prevents him from throwing her to the wolves. that his empathy for his sibling hinges on little more than the shared hue of their eyes. that his affection for you rests on your sweetness. that the care he once touted as your principle appeal will betray you as soon as it starts to require more than held doors and the basic condemnation of violence against your sisters. that you still can’t both be wounded and jarring. solidarity from men will always be “i can see redemption in you.” never “you are worthy of redemption.” they will always be more impressed with themselves for complimenting your strength than they will be with you for being strong.

sigh