I March Because I can.
And that in and of itself, my friends, says all that it needs to.
I'm not marching because I was told to do so.
Not because I believe it needs be done to ensure my survival. My existence.
The crucial factor that underscores my physical presence in this world.
I'm not doing it to improve my marriage prospects or job opportunities.
I'm not doing it to make my parents happy and proud.
I'm not doing it to better my reputation.
Funny thing is, I can survive a whole lot easier in a male dominated world.
All I'd need to do is shut up and do as I'm told.
It would suck. I wouldn't always be happy.
But I'd survive.
Survival.
Such an interesting theory. The ultimate and inevitable life goal for way too many.
In that male dominated world, where I hand over control of my life for the sake of survival, I'd be nothing more than a "thing".
An agreeable and adorable little thing, but a "thing" nonetheless.
Always smiling while being steered around in any direction deemed fit.
A lot like a marionette now that I think of it.
Yes, in this scenario the marionette is a submissive woman who's given up all her individuality. She's consented to being a doll. Surrendering her soul, her rights, and inevitably all control (and not in a fun sexy way).
Yes, the puppeteer is a man who feels immense pleasure and power by controlling this marionette. For him, nothing else in this world can measure up to the sense of euphoria.
It almost feels like playing God.
What my psychoanalytic mind can't stop wondering is what makes this puppeteer feel so powerful? I mean, from his perspective what he's controlling is really just a doll.
It doesn't talk back.
It does as it's told.
It looks pretty.
He can say jump, and the doll wouldn't even ask how high.
It'd just start jumping around till he pulls its strings and teaches it how high.
Controlling this submissive thing doesn't require much strength, yet the act itself is nothing short of euphoric for many.
Yes, in this story the puppeteer is an abuser.
Abuse of power is not unique to one sex.
Believe me, I've seen my share of abusive women. Only men have been abusing their power far longer and wider, and for one simple reason: because they can.
They're not more evil than us; genetically mutated to use and abuse women, subjectify them, bury them alive, and deny them their basic rights as human beings. They've just been given more rights, and didn't exactly miss the opportunity to abuse them.
One of the magical things about power is that it reveals the truth about its possessor. Powerful people have the luxury to reveal their true authentic selves. They are more comfortable expressing their views and acting on them without the of fear of repercussion. They don't run the risk of losing their jobs, or isolating themselves entirely from society. There's now a strong motivator for folks to stick around, even if they don't like or agree with the person.
Expectedly, those in possession of power have the unique ability to push boundaries. To get away with things most people can't.
To break rules, hearts, minds, souls.
They can, but will they? That's the ultimate test.
As a woman, my life has undoubtedly been negatively impacted by selfish men in power, who genuinely believe that abusing their authority is a God given right.
These are some of the core reasons Why I am Marching.
I'm marching because I am tired of their sense of entitlement to my rights.
To my body. My Mind. My soul.
These experiences are not unique to me, as you'd probably know through the study of history, current news, and life experiences. They're also not meant to represent why millions of women around the world have decided to march in solidarity with us in Washington. I'll let them speak for themselves, as I've never lived in anyone else's shoes but mine.
In this post, I am only speaking for myself through my own personal experiences. I am a privileged semi-white woman who has always had some sort of a support system. Yet, I have not been immune to being treated as a second class citizen and having my rights, thoughts, and individuality stolen from me time after time.
My crime? Being a woman.
Why I am marching you ask? Because of the simple notion that I am just as much as you.
I am not any less human.
I live, eat, breath.
I think, so you must know that I am!
Maybe it's when I stop thinking for myself and try to please you that you don't think of me as a being. A being capable of formulating thoughts and opinions.
But why does it scare you so much when I do?
Why do you get mad and upset, making me want to crawl back into my hole and just do as you say so that you would love me; respect me; acknowledge me.
And oh so many times I have done just that.
I have listened.
Forced myself to mold into your ideal
Into what would make you happy
What would please you
What you could show off proudly
And oh so miserably I've failed every time.
Not because there's anything wrong with me, oh no dear.
But rather because there's no pleasing you.
You're never content, because you can't be honest with yourself long enough to figure out what it is you want out of life. Maybe you don't really want a marionette, and appreciate a fierce woman that can pull her own weight. Maybe you don't mind the fair distribution of power and authority between the two of you.
But is sharing the power smart?
What would others think?
Wouldn't they think you're weak for empowering and encouraging a woman who is supposed to be weaker?
Who is supposed to surrender.
To please.
To sacrifice.
Plus, It's just too much power to give up!
What if you regretted it later?
At the end of the day this whole "life game" is, to a great degree, the survival of the fittest.
So why should you give up all these bargaining chips bestowed upon you simply for being born a man?
This opportunity to play God.
To have another's life in your hands.
To control, dictate, and rule in all your glory.
You should be able to find a way to have things your way, without giving up all that power.
I mean, it's what men have done for years, haven't they? And it's worked!
For hundreds and thousands of years men have been getting away with doing things their way, with complete disregard for others' rights and well-being.
Why have they been doing that you might ask? To preserve their "right" to bend rules in their interests when they see fit. Plain and simple.
Why change that? It's all in your favor anyways.
You've never had to "walk the walk of shame", because men don't need to be shameful for having casual sex. Or any kind of sex.
You've always had the opportunity to get a job, get ahead, and get paid fairly.
You've always had the right to vote, and to rule.
In short, you've been able to have your cake and eat it too!
It can all get a bit hectic though. Things could get out of hand.
You're likely to get carried away, and go too far in abusing your rights.
I wouldn't worry about it too much though. Society tends to be forgiving towards men who screw up and get caught. Mostly because men have usually set the norms, again, due to their position of power. So it's acceptable to abuse your power. It's expected, really.
There is a catch though, puppeteer dearest, to your carefully constructed reality.
Everything you just read, nodded to, and smirked at is called privilege.
The ability to live and do based on what favors your interests, wellbeing, and survival without consideration for those the society deems less worthy of such luxuries. You and many, many men before you have done just that for many, many years. It doesn't make it okay though. And it doesn't mean it's going to keep working ,even if all the women in the world were on board.
You know why? Because your way only makes sense from a purely Darwinian, "survival of the fittest" perspective; but the difference between us humans and other living beings is that we do more than just survive. Like, a wholeeee lot more!
We think, analyze, feel.
We create art and music.
We write books, opinion pieces, poetry.
We build skyscrapers and robots.
We figure out a way to go to the bottom of the ocean, where the pressure can collapse our lungs and kill us in less than thirty minutes, just so we can see what's down there.
We risk our lives to learn and discover, which goes way beyond our survival instincts.
We have this inexplicable and powerful need to live to the fullest, and up to our God given potential. Living is what distinguishes us from other beings. It's what makes us human.
Are you telling me that you're not human?
I mean, I know you admire the moon landing, advancements in technology, medicine, the arts. You applaud discoveries that don't necessarily have anything to do with your survival. Yet when it comes to me, someone you consider a weaker being, someone you claim to love and adore, you find it hard to see beyond those survival instincts.
Am I really that threatening? I don't mean to be.
I just want to be your friend.
I want you to like me.
To converse with me.
To hear me out.
To laugh with me while holding my hand.
I want you to love me.
Love that comes with respect.
Because conditional love isn't love, it's nonsense.
It's ownership. It's slavery. It's a puppet show.
And I don't want to be a puppet.
I'm sure your arms are starting to cramp from pulling on the strings.
From trying with all your might to steer me in one direction or another, all the while not really knowing which way I should go.
I know you're tired too. I can feel your muscles tensing beneath my fingertips.
So am I baby. Oh so tired.
I know your arms are hurting.
I'm hurting too.
You know where?
Deep in my heart.
All over my skin.
It feels like it's on fire.
You want to touch it and feel the heat?
I'm also mad.
Mad at why you did this to me and the women before me.
Mad that you didn't remove the strings that chained me, and hold me instead.
Mad that you didn't think my thoughts mattered.
Mad that you didn't think I could be trusted with the power to take charge.
I could've helped you steer this ship in the right direction.
I wish you had trusted me.
I wish you didn't feel so threatened.
I wish you had empowered me instead of clipping my wings out of fear.
The fear that I might fly away and leave you.
That I would try and hurt you.
I was not born evil, and neither were you.
The only thing that can make us evil and darken our hearts is our actions.
How human we are able to be in the face of privilege.
How far we can see beyond our survival instincts.
I wish you had realized that I'm human too.
That my interests and rights matter as well.
I'm most certainly not a marionette.
There's this heart beating in my chest, do you want to feel it?
I have a brain just like yours. It sits right behind my pretty face.
I wish you had noticed it sooner.
We would've both been so much happier.
We could've built and steered this ship together.
My capabilities don't diminish yours, they magnify them.
We are so much stronger together.
Let's march side by side towards a future that respects everyone's rights.
I promise you will be happier then too.
You will finally find peace knowing that I'm not "out to get you".
That I'm not trying to "trick you" and take your rights away.
I just want mine back, which is Why I March. I hope you join me.