If you follow me on Twitter, you know recently I had to take to task a teacher who told my daughter Hannah, that her skirt was too short. When I got to the nitty-gritty of the complaint, this misguided soul thought the sight of Hannah’s beautiful long eleven year old legs was too much for the eleven year old boys to bare and stay focused on their studies.
Fix it, real Jesus.
I explained that it is not Hannah’s responsibility to make boys feel comfortable. It is not woman’s responsibility to make men comfortable. Too many men in their misguided arrogance and limp pride worldview of life, believe that a woman is responsible for setting the atmosphere for their temperament and sense of self.
We can so easily think something, say something, do something or wear something that causes them to feel less than a man, belittled, disrespected and dishonored.
And let’s not forget tempted.
Tempted from their loyalties, commitments and vows.
Get the fuck out of here with that brainwashing foolishness.
If I can say something or look a certain way or speak at an octive that will cause a man to question his 30, 40, 50, 60 years of “manhood” , he is not a whole person. He is nothing more than a being who has grown taller, gained weight, lost hair or grayed his hair.
Personage has nothing to do with anyone else. I can not think of a single thing any man can do that will cause me to question my identity and purpose as a woman. I can not think of any thing he can say that will make me back up in the essence of my being and say I am less of a woman, less of Dana because John Doe did and said, xyz.
How ridiculous of a belief is that?
Yet, women all over the world are burdened with the belief and take up this cross that always crucifies them.
Neither myself or any other woman on the planet is responsible for a mans identity or comfort level. Neither is it our responsibility to wear invisible burkas hoping not to think, say or do something that will shake a boy-man to his core.
We do not have time for censorship. We have a limited amount of time to reach actualization and to yield that into powerful effectiveness.
Called women have shit to do and we cannot do it whispering.
Called women have lives to change and we can not do it if people do not know we are in the room.
Called women have girl-women to raise and we cannot do that walking is the shadow of some man-child who is re-enforcing misogynistic views and beliefs.
Called women must leave those dudes for the women who chose to live the non-purposeful, invisible, life.
Women who are warriors called to battle will never seek signed permission slips before engaging in battle.
Whether we show up in pant suits, sun dresses or G-strings, sit up and pay attention. We are in our beings working our room and a dude’s comfort level is the least of our concerns.
He needs to get the hell out of our way and take his limp broken pride and inept identity with him and find the broken chic who will be, do and say what he needs her to be, do and say.
The rest of us ain’t got time for that. We have little girls to raise, “wanna be helped” women to help and legacies to leave.
We are our the New Mohammed’s and the New Saviors. We are not climbing mountains. We are going around them and the baddest bitches are moving them.
Penning my Woman