Elizabeth Cady-Stanton & Susan B. Anthony did so much for us.
They started the suffrage movement, earned us the right to vote,
And gave us a voice.
The 1960s gave us NOW, Betty Friedan, and the burning of our
restrictive underwear.
Women could bake pies, clean a house,and have a job.
The eighties & nineties brought about the "corporate woman".
She wore slouchy socks and sneakers with her designer skirt on the
train to work, read Forbes, and hung on to the lower rungs of the corporate ladder,
even though she was capable of grasping the top.
Magazines and the media tell us to be assertive, aggressive, and ambitious.
Beyonce sings about "Independent Women" & pays her own bills.
Men state that they want a woman with a brain, the capacity for conversation,
and someone who is not afraid of a hard day's work.
Well, let me tell you Mrs. Cady-Stanton, Ms. Anthony, Betty & Beyonce:
Men lie.
We earn the degree to get the job to afford our own place & pay our bills & half the check and end up sitting home alone anyway.
Education makes us wise. It gives us positions in companies, yet we are not taken seriously. We are paid less because of our gender. We are viewed as using the workplace to scout out that potential husband.
It gives us a brain & views on the world around us. We gain insight into politics, medicine, and world issues. This frightens men because now they may have to actually know what they are talking about instead of using BS words to confuse us and sound intelligent.
My money has earned me a place at the table only because I have the ability to offer to pay my share of the check (which many men do take me up on). And, when I don't offer, they point out that I must do "alright" & never call again because I must be a "gold digger".
My career (which I have been told I would not have if it were not for my looks) pays for my own place (which men find attractive because it is a good spot for casual relationships....sex....), pays my bills (so that the man never has to worry about taking care of me or has to buy me anything of value because I can do it), pays for my car (which is usually nicer than his and means I can drive instead of him), and pays for that date with the man ("because it is what you wanted to do tonight" is what I have been told).
One good conversation, one glimpse of my car, shoes, or handbag, or one meal in the early stages of (what ends up never being) a relationship, where I do not offer to assist in paying the bill, gets me a ride (in my own car, by the way) back to my home. Alone. My independence has given men even more independence than ever before.
Thank you, ladies, for affording me opportunities of advancement and a lonely life of noncommital men.
