I’m Cross. So Cross.

A rant about having to adjust myself for men

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Dear Red Cabbage Heads,

So there was a moment a while ago where a man tried to tell me what I should write and, much as I don’t really ‘do’ gender, as a woman it really pissed me off. And I wrote a whole piece really quickly about why I will write what I want to write. But it got me thinking deeper than my initial reaction. Thinking about all the times over the years where men have silenced me, where I’ve allowed myself to be silenced, where I’ve changed myself so I get asked to be silent less. And it’s made me crosser than I was. I tried to write poetry but today I just had too much in my head to sort it all out.

Fucking hell, I’m 58 and I still am being controlled by men, by a patriarchal society.

I spent my childhood living with a father who told me girls can and should do anything a boy could do; but didn’t like it if I chose ‘girls’ activities or subjects at school. His ‘feminism’ wasn’t all encompassing. I knew the moment my brother arrived I was lesser. I wrote a bit about that too. And I’ve struggled for decades to be acknowledged as equal not lesser just because I’m a woman.

All the times I’ve been interrupted, all the times my ideas have been dismissed but accepted when a man says the same thing. Christ, when I did A level Maths the pure maths teacher constantly told me girls couldn’t do maths and shouldn’t be allowed to. The Applied Maths teacher was a different kettle of fish and I passed his course well. I failed Pure maths as I started skipping lessons rather than face a man who belittled me and whose idea of explaining was just to shout louder and in my face.

At the same 6th form when I tried to join the newly formed DnD club I was banned because I was a girl. Bit of a silly move really, as those nerdy boys were all single and I know at least 2 of them fancied me at the time. But with that attitude I gave them short thrift.

When I did A level Physics the male teacher sent me, the only girl, out of the room at the start of every lesson to make coffee for him and any of lads that wanted one. This normally took around 15-20 mins to fulfil all the orders (a simple old kettle in the 6th form common room which was slow and small. I had to wash cups first, wait for others to use the kettle, and then take them 2 at a time across campus) by which point I’d missed a quarter of the lesson and so I gradually fell behind and I failed that too.

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

When I told my father what was happening he just told me I was wrong as no good teacher would do such a thing. Well, they were no good teachers then! He never believed me.

A man trying, yet again, to tell me my own personal lived experience was wrong. That I didn’t know what I was saying. That it couldn’t possibly be. Gaslighting at its finest before it was even known as gaslighting. Most of my life my father told me my opinions, thoughts, and even my reality was wrong. I remember the day a few years ago I told him one of his friends sexually assaulted me when I was a young teenager and he said ‘We brought you up to always tell us everything, I don’t understand why you didn’t say anything.’ And this is what I didn’t tell him. Because he wasn’t a safe place. If I’d told him he would have said I misunderstood, or I had it wrong, or it didn’t happen. At 14/15 I had understood for years I wasn’t believed more often than I was and at 57 I only told him to prove a point when he made me cross, such was the state of our relationship by then, knowing he probably still wouldn’t believe me.

It’s a sad world we live in at the moment where our rights are being walked back, all the progress made since I was a girl eroded. The US heading towards a fascist state and Gilead looks to not be far behind.

Photo by Vin Jack on Unsplash

I kicked up a fuss many a time and got a reputation because of it. I was the awkward one (as in I made them feel awkward), I was bolshy, pushy, belligerent, aggressive, and out of my lane. I pushed as hard as I could at a seemingly immovable wall. But I tried. I can’t try so hard now. I wish I knew how to resist as a chronically ill disabled personage. I can’t get out and about, I just don’t have the energy. I can type and be cross and that’s about it. I don’t have the energy to argue any more. But I wish I had. I thank all those continuing the fight. May we continue to go forward eventually even if we have to suffer backward steps in the meantime. May we uphold our sisters - all of them. ALL OF THEM!

And now I’m done, all out of energy and words. Rant over for the while.

So, that’s all folks, til next time…. Tx

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