My vagina’s angry. It is. It’s pissed off. ~The Angry Vagina, The Vagina Monologues
About 11 years ago, I sat in a theatre in Toronto with a gathering of girlfriends, waiting to see Margot Kidder, Amy Sky and Maggie Cassella deliver The Vagina Monologues. As expected, the content was compelling, enraging, emotional, and belly laugh inducing. When Maggie Cassella opened this monologue with the above quote, I laughed as every girlfriend I was with turned and looked at me, mouth agape, as if it was me up on the stage delivering the piece.
Yah. Sometimes, my vagina is angry, and it’s with good reason. Lately, it’s become really, really angry. Every day, I am assaulted with stories that reinforce how around the globe, women are still mostly regarded as either reproductive ovens, or disposable pussies. I read troubling accounts of atrocities being committed against women, which come under a variety of guises, from a variety of sources.
In Morocco, Amina Filali, a 16 year old girl committed suicide after being forced to marry her rapist.
In Arizona, legislators are pushing through a bill that would “require women who wish to have their contraception covered by their health insurance plans to prove to their employers that they are taking it to treat medical conditions.”
Even in my own backyard, a “gentleman’s club” (read: brothel) was being setup in The Tannery, the hub for technology companies and startups in the Kitchener-Waterloo region before someone got wise and shut the place down before it opened.
What. The. Fuck?!
The conservative assault on women’s rights is frighteningly alive and well in North America. One only has to look at the political headlines capturing the Republican candidates race to know how poorly regarded women are; from Rush Limbaugh, to Rick Santorum, to Mitt Romney, women are regarded as sluts, prostitutes or invalids that don’t know how to take care of ourselves or our families. These men are gaslighters and appallingly, openly misogynistic.
So are the Canadian Tory MPs that wish to re-open the abortion debate in Canada.
Again. What. The. Fuck?!
So, my reputation apparently precedes me. I’m known both in real life and online as the person that “calls it as I see it.” Yes, I’m the “elephant hunter” and while I may make some people uncomfortable, I’m way okay with that. I don’t accept gaslighting, nor cop outs, nor devil’s advocate stances just for the sake of it.
I demand accountability, rational thought, and intelligent discourse.
And as you try to belittle me by calling me emotional, let me save you trouble. Goddamn right I am emotional. These are my sisters, my daughters, my mothers that you’re fucking with. They’re my kin. I will fight for them, defend them, stand in front of them and behind them. They are me.
So, don’t call me a girl; I’m 42, have my period, and can vote. I’m a woman. Don’t patronize me as you talk about my “little” ideas, ones that you go ahead and use. Don’t avoid the dialogue by hiding behind niceties. Don’t pat me on the head, call me a bitch (unless you’ve got the balls to do it to my face), or undermine my opinion by sexualizing me. Seriously, suck my dick. And you know why I can say that? Because I have bigger balls than a lot of men I know.
So, here’s my theme song for today. Don’t like it? I don’t care. There are bigger issues than your ego at hand.