She saidA Story by MilaWhat's wrong with being a woman, exactly?She said
“Of course I’m a woman.” She said, while holding a small child in her arms. She was single mother who worked two jobs while juggling trying to raise a child in a dangerous area. Her pay was significantly less than her male co-workers, and society told her she was mooching off the government. Her heart broke some nights because she didn’t think they would make it, and still the world frowned on her for attempting to pick herself up when the man pushed her down.
Was it her fault that the father of her child left them? Was it her fault that she wanted one less criminal on the streets? Was it her fault that she wanted her child to know that even though their father left, that their mother would always be there?
“What’s wrong with being a working mother?” She asked, confused.
XXX
“Of course I’m a woman.” She said, walking to class on a sunny day with her backpack full of books and her headphones in as the wind blew through her hair. She wasn’t a straight A student, but she worked hard every night while her friends partied. Even so, she didn’t understand why the guys on her campus gave her looks for wearing shorts on a hot summer’s day. She was something more than the object of their desires, but somewhere in her heart she had a feeling she would never be their boss.
Was it her fault that she still worked hard every single night? Was it her fault that she had dreams? Was it her fault that hot weather was a reason to wear shorts instead of jeans? Since when did articles of clothing defined her as a person?
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” She asked, confused.
XXX
“Of course I’m a woman.” She said, straightening out her suit as she walked out of the courtroom. She had won her case, but still fought every day to win the respect of her male co-workers. She had graduated first of her class at Yale School of Law, and had a record being a popularly successful attorney. But often she felt weighed down by the expectations of her trade, expectations she knew were impossible for her to achieve without losing a part of herself.
Was it her fault that she was a success? Was it her fault that she won fair and square? Who decided her worth in the courtroom save for those who came ot her asking for her help? How was it an issue of hers when the ego of her male opponent was shattered when her case won over theirs?
“What’s wrong with me winning?” She asked, confused.
XXX
“Of course I’m a woman.” She said, trying to ignore the hateful looks the world shot at her. She couldn’t look at herself sometimes, because she kept thinking that trying to justify what she had done made her a horrible person. There were men all around her telling her that she was a demon and a murderer, and the world backed them up. She aborted a child because she couldn’t afford one, so clearly she was a coward.
Was it her fault that it was her choice? Was it her fault that she didn’t have the money to support the child the way she wanted? Was it her fault that she couldn’t bear to be reminded of where that child came from? Why was it that those who would never understand her situation decide her fate? Who were they to judge her?
“What’s wrong with trying to move on?” She asked, confused.
XXX
“Of course I’m a woman.” She said, curling her hair and adding final touches to her face. Finals week had just concluded and she and everyone else were getting ready to go party and de-stress. Still, she had to change her outfit for or five times because she was afraid she would give people in the club the wrong impression. She was a pharmacy student, but one short skirt would have her pegged as a brainless party girl.
Was it her fault that she wanted to dress nice for a change? Did it have to be such a bad thing for her to want to show her body? Was it her problem that men couldn’t keep it together when they saw a skirt? Why did she have to be afraid to express herself?
“What’s wrong with what I look like?” She asked, confused.
XXX
“Of course we are women.” Said the single mother, the
college student, the attorney, the woman who made a choice, and the future
pharmacist. In truth, there was one thing that connected them to each other
besides their gender: they did not owe anyone anything.
“There is nothing wrong with being a working mother.”
“There is nothing wrong with what I’m wearing.”
“There is nothing wrong with me winning.”
“There is nothing wrong with me trying to move on.” “There is nothing wrong with how I look.”
There is nothing wrong with being a woman. © 2015 MilaAuthor's Note
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Added on February 14, 2015Last Updated on February 24, 2015 Tags: feminism, woman, stories, individuality, life AuthorMilaSt. Louis , MOAboutALL WINNERS FROM MY CONTESTS WILL HAVE THIER WORKS FEATURED ON MY WATTPAD ANTHOLOGY WITH FULL CREDIT GIVEN TO THEM! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WELL BEFORE HAND IF YOU DO NOT WANT ME TO FEATURE YOUR WORK! A.. more..Writing
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