There are a few things my husband will tell you about me if you ask him.
The first is that he loves me and I love him.
The second is that I love musical theatre and have been driving him crazy with “Hamilton” since April.
Third, he’d tell you I have a really cool job in the restaurant industry. (He thinks much more highly of it than I do at times).
And then he’d tell you that under the surface of my benign agreeability, I’m a rampant feminist. Not like — we don’t shave our under-arms or we spell the word wiomyn with a “y” to avoid the word men. No, no. Not THAT extreme.
But the truth is, I have memories from a young age of my mother surrounded by women from the Berk’s Women’s Network collating newsletters and being very vocal and strong about women’s rights, equality and all that goes along with what I like to call “smart women’s feminism.”
I’ll vote for Hillary because it’s taken until 2016 for a woman to even be considered as a candidate to run our country. And while she might have some skeletons, she’s smart and she takes a boat load of shit that would never be said to men.
I deal with the undercurrent of sexism on the daily. Sometimes it rankles me, and other times I just let it slide. I fight too many battles to work myself into a frenzy every time someone is condescending to me, or treats me as though my brain is somehow on a lower level than one attached to a penis.
But I will tell you that there are few things that get under my skin more than women who use sex and feigned ignorance and naiveté to achieve things that the rest of us work tirelessly for because we have integrity and self-worth. And it really angers me when it happens to me repeatedly.
Ladies, let me say this — and I will say it repeatedly and loudly.
Save yourself. Have enough dignity to look yourself in the mirror and love yourself, flaws and all. Have enough decency to ask the world to see what you have to offer beyond your pretty face and adolescent boy body.
Not only do you do damage to yourself, but you do damage to every other woman out there, fighting tooth and nail for equality and respect.
Something else my husband might tell you. It takes a while to get to the breaking point. But once I get there, there’s really no coming back. I’ve worked very hard for everything I have and for everything I do. I was not given hand outs, or favors. And I can be just as venomous as I can be kind. So there’s that.