I love being a woman. 

In spite of injustices perpetrated since the dawn of time, I wouldn’t give up being a woman for anything. 

Perhaps my love of my own body—my flesh, my breasts, my hips, my womb, my ability to create life—persuades me. Perhaps loving my mother, my daughter, and my granddaughter, makes me biased. Perhaps my unconquerable commitment to protect life turns me into a warrior. 

It’s true, the majority of important people in my life are ladies. But there is a bigger story, more universal, that should connect all of us to our love for women. None of us would be here without them. 

Every blessed set of eyes that will read these words was grown in the dark, warm void of their mother’s womb. No matter the station in life to which we may arise, or conversely, fall, we all arrived on this earth helpless, and dependent on the care of a woman. Not every mother is benevolent, nor will every woman become a mother. Regardless, every woman has the right to live a life, unmolested, in pursuit of her dreams and goals.  

I don’t want to turn this into an ode to motherhood, quite the contrary. Women are valuable on their own merits as autonomous beings. Motherhood is not required to justify the existence of our bodies; we get to be here for ourselves. We are not required to produce life to make our lives matter.

It’s been 100 years since women gained the right to vote, yet a century later, here in the US, in one of the most, allegedly, progressive countries in the world—we still have yet, to elect a woman for president. 

Elizabeth Warren, who was running as a democratic, presidential candidate, has bowed out of the race. She was considered unelectable by many, though she currently holds a seat in the US senate, and has for seven years. Her political history, and age, is comparable to her male counterparts. She is rational and competent. What exactly makes her unelectable?

A woman running for political office has objects on her path to contend with that her male counterparts do not. Sexism is at the top of that list, and it becomes a double bind even to mention it.

In an interview in Forbes magazine Warren says,

“Gender in this race, you know, that is the trap question for every woman. If you say, ‘yeah, there was sexism in this race,’ everyone says ‘whiner,'” she said. “And if you say, ‘no, there was no sexism,’ about a bazillion women think, ‘what planet do you live on?””

To speak, or not to speak? Even when we do speak up, we are often unheard as women. Regardless of the difficulty in getting my own voice out, and my point across, that I sometimes encounter—I will not stop speaking up. 

Recently I had a friend cross a line with me. Too many women who have been put in the same position. I was never not clear as to where our actual friendship stood; he just chose not to hear me. When I received the text that made it utterly apparent that his fantasy was muddying reality, how did I feel? Unheard. And I had spoken up repeatedly. 

Women speaking up isn’t the problem; it’s people not listening. What will it take to make our voices heard?

Me Too has been a battle call that is hard to ignore. It is encouraging to me, to see men like Harvey Weinstein being held accountable for his actions. Weisnstein has now been sentenced to twenty-three years in prison for rape and sexual abuse. May it set a new precedence towards accountability for predatory behavior.

When discussing statistics for rape, domestic violence, women missing, and women murdered—it’s always as if we have done these things to ourselves. Statistics somehow fail to mention that it is men who are raping, beating, disappearing and murdering women. We aren’t committing these crimes against ourselves; men are doing it, men who don’t love us, who don’t respect us. The same men who once crawled from the hallowed cave of their mother’s wombs are perpetrating vile acts against women. 

This is not me pointing the finger at men and saying, “You’re all monsters.” Far from it. This is me wanting good men stand up for the women they love, and that means being willing to also tell other men, “Hey, it’s gross when you talk about a woman like she is an object. It’s not a joke.” This also means we need to look at the leadership in our country and collectively say, “No. We will not stand for a political head who thinks it is okay to talk about grabbing women by the pussy.”

If we dedicate a day on the calendar to women, does that mean that misogyny, wage inequality, and domestic violence will suddenly disappear? It doesn’t. We need more than nods to long, overdue progress. We need a complete cultural attitude adjustment.

In the U.K. steps have been taken to categorize misogyny as a hate crime. Aside from the power of labeling a thing what it is, there is the added benefit that victims now feel that their reports will be taken seriously. Violent acts do not come out of the blue—they too are birthed in darkness. The darkness that breeds violence is ignorance, confusion and pain. When those things are allowed to fester they become an epidemic. 

Compassion is not turning a blind eye to suffering, nor is it allowing the continuation of toxic behavior. On the contrary, the practice of compassion includes calling out, and ending suffering when possible. That includes making policies that actively stop the spread of hate. 

We need change. Women need to stop being treated as second class citizens. Women need to claim our worth, regardless of stature as mothers, wives, or some extension of a man in our life. As women, our worth exists independent and inviolable to the whims of society. We all need to teach our daughters to say, no, when they are uncomfortable, and to stand up for their, yes, to speak up for who they are, what they need, and what they believe in.

It has been said, that man was created in God’s image. Perhaps. It is, however, undeniable that we cannot exist without women, and to them we owe our respect and devotion.

Let Her Be.

If you love a woman let her be.

Let her spill out of the tight packaging she’s been stuffed in.

Let her wisdom pour from her body, fierce and fiery kindness from her eyes and fingers.

Let her hips teach you the ancient ways.

Let her love nurture life, soul and body.

Let her shake and quake!

And never forget…

She doesn’t need your permission.

Author: Justice Bartlett

Image:Andreas Øverland/Flickr