By Izzi Roth, TIWP Student
The foot comes off the gas and as the tires slowly grab the pebbles off the ground and it goes dark. A voice calls out, “hey would you come here for a sec” and it all goes dark. You step out of the house and a pair of eyes gropes you from your ankles to your eyes and it all goes dark. Your eyes become tunnels instead of window; a thousand ants sneak up your spine; pins and needles pierce the tips of your fingers; and all the air in the world cannot satiate your collapsed lungs. Why does this have to be a part of being woman? Why is this something we allow pigs to make us feel? Could it ever be changed? Will boys really always be boys? And will locker rooms always be filled with the sounds of objectification, sexualization, and oppression? I refuse to believe being woman means my daughter will have to feel this or that my son will make another woman feel this. I cannot believe this is part of being woman and that each one of us with ovaries has felt this way. We should be sharing stories of empowerment and fierce womanhood, not war stories of walking down the street at night. It does not matter what we wore, it does not matter what he thought my eyes were saying, and it does not matter that I was alone. Being a woman is being human at the most difficult level, but I believe a time will come when it won’t be difficult to be woman. And that womanhood will never again feel the icky-ness or the slimey-ness or the blech-y-ness of objectification. And being woman will be coveted. One day I want to hear a little boy ask his mom why he can’t have babies and when she responds tell her it’s not fair. It may sound like I hate men but don’t. I hate that “feminist” is synonymous with pariah. And I believe that there will come a day when being woman will mean being equal.