Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You.
Hi! Okay, so before you get into reading tonight’s blog post, I think I should give you a fair warning. As always, I write how I would say things. I don’t sugar coat anything and I am not afraid of offending anyone… usually. Well tonight’s post is a bit different. I am almost certain that I WILL offend someone, so if you are easily offended, please don’t read. I don’t want any angry comments or bad reviews. (Unless it’s well deserved.) I am writing this in reference to my personal experience with men in my life (my friends, ex boyfriends, ex friends, classmates, and best friends.) Also, I am sure, since this a touchy topic for me, that I am going to drop a few curses. I apologize in advance. Happy Reading!
It Seems You Have Forgotten.
It has come to my attention, that some of my guy friends, have been misinformed about women and their role/roles in society. So maybe I need to remind them. First of all, Eve was created from Adam‘s Rib. His Side. Think about that for a second. If a woman was meant to be inferior to a man, would he have created her from his spine? From his tailbone even? Something to signify she belonged BEHIND him? Well, since she was created from his side, this means that women were meant to be created equal. To be strong enough to stand by his side, not behind, not in front of, but beside.
*Note: I am not trying to make this a religious thing, so please don’t look into this more than it has to be.*
For all of you skeptics, Yes. I know most men are stronger than women. Their bones are meant to be able to bear more weight. Yes, that’s true. Women were given wider hips, mammary glands (to produce milk), and stronger torso as to be able to bear children. This is also true. However, this doesn’t mean one is more inferior or superior than the other, just that each is meant to be able to do different things that the other gender might have a more difficult time with, if at all.
All Joking Aside…
Here’s a clip of a conversation between me and a guy I go to school with:
(Me): “Oh gosh, really? Another sexist joke? Ugh. What is it? What do you do?”
(Guy): “Haha. Give her a map. She’s obviously lost.”
(Me): “Oh har har.”
(Guy): “What do you do when you find her two rooms away from a kitchen?”
(Me): “What? Give her a GPS?”
(Guy): *laughs* “No, you catch her and bring her back to the kitchen. It’s obvious she’s trying to escape!”
Very funny. Usually I laugh at jokes. I’m not usually so uptight about things. In fact, I am usually joining in jokes splayed to everyone’s enjoyment. However, I have been hearing it a lot lately. Not just in school but from even some of my closest guy friends. Allow me to show you another conversation. This time, between two of my best guy friends and myself.
(Guy): “Oye. Go in the kitchen and make me a sandwich!”
(Me): “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to like that? Make your own damn sandwich.”
(Other Guy): “Make me soup while you are in there, making his sandwich.”
(Me): *Stunned* “Look, you boys need to recognize who you are talking to.”
(Guy): “A female. You know your place is in the kitchen. So chop chop.”
(Me): “Uh no.”
*I flip on the TV, to a news station*
(Other Guy): “Did you hear on the news a woman was injured in a really bad car accident?”
(Me): “Oh, that’s awful!”
(Guy): “I don’t believe it.”
(Me): “What? Why not?”
(Other Guy): “Because you can’t get a car into a kitchen.”
I have also had conversations and jokes the ended with “Women’s place in the kitchen” or “If they aren’t in the kitchen or laundry room, they belong in the bedroom.” Oh, is that so? Some of you guys seem to think women have to justice unless it’s in the kitchen or bedroom, huh? Well, you guys are in for a harsh reality check.
Let Me Set the Record Straight.
I am not your mother. I did not lay on a delivery room table and push your big watermelon shaped head out of me. Do not refer to me as “Old Lady”, “Mom”, or “Ma.”
I am not a hooker. You don’t refer to me as “Hoe,” “Hooker,” or any other derogatory name. You say that to me, and I will call you nice names, like “Asshole,” “Jerk-off,” “Fuck-face,” and honestly, any other ill-gotten terrible name I can think of.
As women, we aren’t “chained to stoves” or “chained to washboards and bedpost”. We actually DO have the right to walk away from this house, this room, and yes, the god damn kitchen. If you want a woman in the kitchen, you should hire yourself a female chef.
I am not your chauffeur. I will not sit here at your beck and call, to drive you places. Look, I don’t fill my gas tank with hopes and dreams, so unless you are paying me, it’s not happening. I’m not a taxi driver and this ride isn’t free. I have a life outside of you.
I am not your maid. I am not going to follow you around picking up your shit that you just let fall everywhere. If you want your house to look like a pig sty, then that’s on you but I refuse to pick up anything. It’s bad enough I have to take care of my own stuff, I don’t need to pick up after you too.
I am not your personal chef. I did not go to culinary school. I don’t have any cooking skills (besides basics.) I will not sit here cooking your meals and having you take one bite and then bouncing out of the kitchen. This isn’t a Diner. You don’t want to eat what I make fine. Just don’t expect me to cook a damn thing for you again.
I’m not your gardener. You don’t pay me to water your plants, mow your lawn, or prune your bushes. I suggest you install a sprinkler system, pick up a pair of shears and learn to do it on your own. If I wanted to garden, I would do it on my own terms, at my garden, on my time; not when you want me to.
I am not your wallet. I do not have a sign on my chest that reads, “Bitch at me, every time you lose something.” So don’t yell at me when you lose your keys, your wallet, your credit card, and the remote. If you don’t know where it is, how is someone who wasn’t even here supposed to know either?
I’m not your alarm clock. I don’t have numbers engraved on me, and I don’t tell you the time whenever you look at me. Don’t expect me to wake you up, and get you off to work. It isn’t going to happen.
Luckily, Lincoln set the slaves free, so since you don’t own me, I have my own free will. So in case you missed the memo, this is just your friendly reminder.
I’m not your babysitter. I will not watch your kids without pay. I will not be a drop off whenever you need a break. You had these kids, not me. So raise them. They are officially your responsibility. Not mine.
I am not your paycheck. You buy your own shit! I am not your “Suga Momma” and your broke ass sure as hell isn’t my “Suga Daddy” so fall back. You support yourself and I will keep support myself, without your help.
Now, unless you put a rock on my finger, treat me with respect and dignity, and act mature you are NOT going to have a future with me. If you men want a nice, decent woman to bring home to mom and dad, the change begins with you. You have to get respect to earn it. I don’t give out respect like it’s candy. Grow up boys or remain single. Your choice.
Now, with all the above said, I am probably looked at like I am a bitch. Funny. If I were a man saying all of this, I would probably be looked at like I was “The Man!” I would probably be congratulated and thanked for “Saying What ‘We’ All are thinking.”
Amazing isn’t It?
As noted earlier, I do have a lot of guy friends, and I love them more than words. This was merely to all the men I have been making contact with, that seem to be confused in role play here. I know not every guy thinks this way, as I am sure that not every woman thinks the way I do. It’s only human to be different. That’s awesome. I’m all for individuality. I just think the comments of women being called names and treated unjustly is getting out of hand. Where has all the chivalry gone?