Womanly dread
Throughout my life, I have never felt remorse over being born a woman. I, in fact, quite liked being a woman.
I enjoy being part of a community of others who — generally — lift one another up. I like the clothes I get to wear, and I am learning to appreciate my soft curves. I like wearing jewelry and makeup and styling my long hair without it being a social faux pas.
Until recently, I've loved being a woman, but things feel different lately. I feel trapped.
This is perhaps due to the fact that I'm growing up and becoming disillusioned with the world. I've seen the longterm effects of oppression and been subject to it myself.
This is not only prompted by the recent election, but I won't pretend that has nothing to do with it. Simply having a new president elect has empowered hatred to come out of the woodwork once more, and with it has come a kind of dread I've been able to suppress until now.
I feel dread about dating and marriage. About being at the mercy of men, who have shown time and time again that they will never truly understand the plight of being a woman.
About the circle of life. That if I choose to have children, my body will be put at the mercy of a fetus and the nutrients it demands, and I may be used up in the process.
(From nonfiction filmmaker Irene Lusztig: "Birth injuries are so common that Nature must intend for women to be used up in the process of reproduction, just as a salmon dies after spawning.")
About how, if I choose not to have children, I will be othered, especially by those who I hold closest in my life. If I choose not to have children, I may face higher risk of early menopause and developing life-threatening diseases.
As I look down the barrel of my future, I feel I am faced with some pros and many cons with no obvious solution.
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Shoot me a comment or start a conversation with me by emailing davstri4077@gmail.com.