Because I shouldn’t have to feel “lucky” for never having been a victim of assault. Because I wrote a personalized version of this weeks ago.
Because it shouldn’t be the case that every woman can write a list as lengthy as this, but maybe if we all did, we would realize what we’ve been through and stop putting one another down.
Because all women deserve to be heard and to be treated with respect.
Because I’m twenty one and have a whole life ahead of me and the big hope and expectation that my dreams won’t be hindered because I was born with a vagina.
Because I aspire to be a mother and a wife.
Because I want to be respected in my choice to be both, and to be whatever the hell else I want to be, too
Because feminism needs to be an unstoppable force of ferocity and spirit
Because we’re not there yet.
Because if I have a daughter, I want her to sit where I’m sitting thirty years from now and thank us and look on us in awe, because I want her to be safe and supported and to be treated with respect and dignity: always.
Because my mother was a painter and a beauty when artists had patrons and a woman like that needed a man to take care of her, so she married a money man.
Because my mother’s mother was a beauty and her mother was, too, and that’s what people said: “She was a beautiful woman,” as if that was the only remarkable thing.
Because I was born in 1966, the year Betty Friedan and others started the National Organization of Women and challenged an industry which required flight attendants to quit if they got married, pregnant, or reached the age of 32.
Because when my mother had me, she stopped painting and started cleaning house and throwing dinner parties and smoking too many cigarettes and crying in the mirror.
Because my mother never told me that I looked pretty because she did not want me to grow…
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