I am a woman.

I am as smart as you.

I am as capable as you.

I am as worthy as you.

If I’m being bitchy, you’re being a dick.

If I’m being emotional, you’re being a soulless fuck.

I can run a company.

I can compete in the Olympics.

I have a name.

I have a brain.

I have a vagina.

I have value.

I have worth.

I have ideas.

If you’re annoyed by my change in mood every month, then let me tell you about the burden of being the only one of us that can continue the mother fucking species.

 

If you think my role is in the kitchen, in the laundry room, or in the bedroom, then you’ve missed the boat on a few hundred years of evidence that you’re wasting my talent, squandering my skills, and cutting household earning potential by at least half.

If my outfit, my breasts, or the way I look in a skirt is a consideration for employment, then we should discuss your ill-fitting suit, your “I gave up gut,” and synthetic leather shoes, and what they say about your competence and attention to detail.

I will choose my place.

I will choose my position.

I will decide my fate.

I will consider my options.

You do not own me.

You do not tell me.

You do not make me.

This is my body.

This is my mind.

This is my life.

I do not hate you.

I do not resent you.

I am not trying to steal your masculinity.

I am trying to define my femininity and I do not need your input, your opinion, or your objections.

You have had your day.

You have have your centuries.

You have had your empires.

I’m not asking you to step down.

I am asking you to step aside.

Hold my hand, not my reigns.

When I achieve, applaud.

When I slip, support.

When I conquer, collaborate.

I am tired of the versus.

I am tired of your fear.

I am tired of convincing.

Do not degrade me.

Do not oppress me.

Do not judge me.

I am equal.

And so are you.