men

“Feminism” wasn’t a word I heard much growing up. When I did hear it, I equated it with a historical event, not a work in progress. I thought first-wave feminism was a one-and-done deal, and that all the work necessary for women’s equality had already been accomplished.

All men at work benefit from what Australian sociologist Raewyn Connell has named the “patriarchal dividend.” This is the unearned social or professional capital that men accrue. [...] This dividend doesn’t just happen — it has to be reproduced and maintained for future generations. If men recognise this and take responsibility for it, then we can start to make positive changes to workplaces.

Men of Color, especially Black men, have historically been coded as animalistic abusers and r*pists when it comes to white women. This stems from the idea that Men of Color literally want to steal and sully the belongings of white men. In turn, it becomes the “duty” of white men to protect white women — not because they truly care about white women, but because white women are the property of white men.

In my sickest moments, supposedly in the safe hands of health care professionals, I have had a chiro compare helping me undress to ‘unwrapping a gift’; a physio make sexual innuendos about the stockings I had to slip out of for treatment. Again, despite the shame, I remained polite, paying the receptionist for a transaction that left me sick to the core.

Whether it’s your ethnicity, your religion, your sexuality, you do not deserve to be loved in spite of who you are — you deserve to be loved for who you are. Those things are a part of you, and they shouldn’t be swept under the rug or pushed to the side so someone can pick and choose the things they like about you.

To worship all that is masculine often means to frame oneself in opposition to those in the LGBT community. The attitudes and values of that community do make room for the masculine, but predominantly veer toward the gentle, the soft, the empathetic, the sunny, the good-humored, the multicolored, and the spirited.

I felt unique in my passion for martial arts, my affinity for Call of Duty, my go-with-the-flow attitude toward boyish adventures. I wanted to be “one of the guys,” while still retaining the distinction of my sexuality. I longed to be the quintessential cool girl — desirable yet approachable. But in retrospect, all that really amounted to internalized misogyny.

It's completely normal to be a woman and enjoy sex. The trouble is that when I’ve expressed my sexuality openly online, I’ve encountered some unwanted attention from men.