April 8, 2021

Reasons I Choose to be a Woman & Not a Womxn.


Author’s Note: Please let me start this vulnerable and tough-to-write article with this—I honor every woman’s (or one who identifies as such) choice to embody what it means to be a woman. I respect the way my kind shows up in the streets for equal rights, justice for all, and more. This article, I know, will be triggering (hell, it’s triggering me to write it!), and it is not my intent to upset any woman, but for me as a woman to share the loneliness and separation I’ve felt from my own kind because I choose not to X out the A in woman. I do not take lightly my Jewish white privilege and I beg you to enter this article with an open heart and mind. I write what I need to feel and heal. My hope is for it to be of benefit to even one woman who feels the same.

I will never X out the A in woman.

I’ve held these words in, to the point of almost implosion. It’s taken me years to finally come to a place where not writing this article is a larger risk than me putting it out there.

Now let me start off by telling you I am a woman who gathers others under the full and new moon. Who holds space for women of all kinds to come together and celebrate femininity, each other, and ourselves. To lift each other up and celebrate one another—to give the “competition” energy less power.

I am a woman who:

>> Loves to have the door held open by her partner.

>> Puts on long flowy dresses and puts flowers in her hair.

>> Dances sensually at Ecstatic dance as a way to heal my sexual trauma.

>> Hands the pickle jar to her partner for him to open it (even if I can do it myself).

I don’t do any of these things as a way to bow to my man, or any man. But as a way to show strength in what it means to embody the beautiful, soft qualities of femininity.

I am a woman who also:

>> Is self-made and has risen to the top through crazy hardships.

>> Can stand on her own two feet without her partner or a man.

>> Can carry seven heavy grocery bags without help.

What’s so crazy about witnessing the age of “toxic masculinity” is how the opposite effect of it is wreaking havoc on my kind.

How I’ve witnessed my partner giving a male a compliment on his height to put him at ease in a social situation and create softening and safety, only for my man to be yelled at by another woman because he’s being “toxic.”

Women, this level of social intelligence and masculinity is needed for other men to feel safe being vulnerable and soft. This is what we want, right? I know I do.

I’ve witnessed women use their rage and anger to bring justice to women, for good reason. But I can’t help but wonder if there’s another way, too. Or a way to pivot, just a little.

Can’t I step fully into my feminine, soft, kind, genuine nature to inspire the men around me to do the same? Doesn’t me raging against the machine this way create less separation from the men around me?

I know I want that.

I want a world where we can all embody our masculine and feminine energy and celebrate each other for it. A world where we can come together and rewrite the patriarchal history to not just be herstory but thestory.

I don’t know the true answers to these questions I ponder on the regular…but I do know I want to continue leaning toward looking at myself and my actions to bring the feminine and masculine closer into balance for a better world for 10 generations to come.

I’m not talking about genders, I’m talking about energy.

The more I am in flow with my feminine energy, the more my partner meets me in flow with his masculine (and feminine) energy. I’ve watched him weep over his own still open wounds from the women who have done him wrong. Instead of meeting him with a “you don’t have the right to feel this way because of what your kind has done to my kind,” I meet him with what I call my feminine energy.

I soften.

I listen.

I don’t judge.

I don’t try to fix.

I don’t try to paint the picture for him to see why he is wrong.

I step into my woman powers and we emerge together a little lighter of his trauma and a little closer in our relationship and chosen union.

I do not judge or ask the womxn who chooses to X out the A, because she has trauma from a man, to do what I choose to do. I just ask her to see me and how me choosing not to X out the A is my version of healing my own trauma from men.

I am not asking you, the reader, to change. I am not asking you to stop fighting for what you believe in. I am not asking you to do anything other than what you believe is right.

But I am asking you to stop for a moment to see that there are those of us who keep the A as our own way of raging against the patriarchy. It’s our own way of bringing equality to the sides. It’s our way of healing.

This is a callout to the woman who chooses to keep the A:

You are not broken for wanting to shave your legs or putting flowers in your hair to look beautiful, pretty, and feminine. For wanting to let a man hold the door open for you. For wanting to put on long flowy dresses and dance under the moon. For seeing this as your wild woman is right and fair. You can keep the A and be wild. You can see the ones who choose to X it out and love them for their own version of wild. You can consider yourself a Goddess and a Boss Babe and still be a strong f*cking woman.

My hope is that we continue to bring the womxn and the woman closer together because ultimately when we do, we will see that this union is the ultimate rage against the machine.

This article I know is just the beginning to so many things I want to say about this delicate topic. But the purpose honestly is to share to those who keep the A to have a safe space to speak out.

To the women who have fought for the right for me to even write this article and share my words, I bow to you and what you’ve given up to make a world where women can be heard.


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