It is mid afternoon and I am lying on my bed. The breeze blows in through my open window and the sound of sirens overpowers the birds’ beautiful songs.
I am keenly aware of my menstruating body and its cycles of discomfort and ease. I am contemplating life. I am contemplating my femininity. I am contemplating our present, overly masculine society. My feelings fluctuate between a heavy sadness and a perfect tranquility.
My roommate walks down the hall with his heavy footsteps. I immediately enter a space of frustration. Not over his steps alone, but over the steps of every man…modern and historical.
For as long as I can remember I have carried a sort of vendetta toward the opposite sex; an unexplainable disdain for their very presence. I couldn’t possibly count all the boys I beat up as a young girl, usually for small offenses. He called me a name, tried to play with my toys, talked too much, didn’t talk enough, or looked at me funny. Whatever the reasoning, I enjoyed watching them squirm. I especially enjoyed laughing as they ran away in tears…soaked in shame.
The last time this happened I was eighteen years old and drunk. I was at a festival, walking down the street with a friend, and a guy behind me grabbed my ass. Without a thought I turned around and punched him in the face. He cupped his nose and mumbled “you fucking bitch” as he ran across the street. This time, however, a sense of guilt appeared in my psyche. Did he really deserve that? Did it actually teach him a lesson? Could I have gotten arrested for assault? I couldn’t be sure if what I felt was my own or the mass opinion of our society, finally creeping into my awareness.
I began to question the reasons I felt this animosity toward men. I had a close relationship with my father, I was never sexually or physically abused, and I had never witnessed my mother being hurt by a man. So why did I display this pattern of violence?
Now, lying here on my bed, I understand it more clearly. It isn’t just my own experience that drives me, but the experience of all women everywhere. The history of rape, violence, degradation, and persecution that lives in my very bones. The condition of our current society and ideas…including all its sharp, hard architecture, dominating mental views, and Christian “morals”. The bombs, the wars, the corporations, and the rape of the Earth itself.
Perhaps femininity, as we’ve always perceived it, is false. Maybe it carries with it strength, passion, and power beyond what men could possibly comprehend. The strength to overcome any obstacle, the passion to change the world, and the power to get others to join us.
I don’t hate men. I am merely pissed off about the extreme imbalance with which we are living. It is time for women to stand up in their Divine Femininity and bring the world back to its center. Bring us back to our true and inherent power.