Dear woman who left that lovely comment on my page,
I just wanted to say thank you for leaving such an insightful comment on my page. I totally hear what you’re saying. Who the heck are all of these women signing their posts with #metoo? And carrying their useless women’s rights posters that do nothing to advance women, blah blah blah, I have a vagina and that makes me special. Maybe if women spent less time talking about being oppressed, they’d have more energy to accomplish something, right? Like you did. I mean you stated it pretty clearly in your comment. YOU never got sexually harassed. YOU were never paid less than the men you worked with. YOU are successful and run a profitable company now. So I can totally see why you would think all these women are just being whiny complainers.
Because YOU got lucky.
It must be so nice to sit on your high horse up there and look down on all the women who did encounter some man who made them feel like dirt. Who touched them or stroked them or said something nasty to them or pleasured himself in front of them. I mean the nerve of these weak women talking about the shit that happened to them. Dwelling on it. Helllloooo, don’t these people know that strong women stay silent.
So what did you tell them to do? Grow some cojones (your words not mine)? You tell’m! That’s exactly what you should tell a woman who’s been sexually harassed. Go grow some man balls.
In case you can’t tell by now, I’ve been using the sarcastic font in this letter so far, and if I’m really being honest and direct I think you’re an a-hole who can’t put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Because here’s the thing. You WEREN’T sexually harassed. You had a boss who treated women fairly. You weren’t discriminated against. And look at that. You got ahead.
You, my dear, just proved a very important point. Women who don’t encounter this crap get ahead. But some women are harassed and oppressed and discriminated and other bad “-ed” words, and the ladder is way harder for them to climb.
So people like you have two choices. You can belittle their problems and make them feel even worse. Or you can have a little something called empathy.
I’ve never had cancer, but I can still feel bad for people who do. I’ve never been an alcoholic, but I can still feel bad for people who are. I’ve never been called a faggot, but I can still feel bad for people who have. And when I hear about a woman who uses the hashtag #metoo or who marches with a sign to speak out about her problems, I can react in one of two ways– I can go online and write a comment that belittles her and tells her to quit whining, or I can support her. Whether it’s marching alongside her, or just cheering her on from the comfort of my home.
So hey, sorry I didn’t respond to your actual comment the other day. I was too busy marching when you wrote it.
We’re here to lift each other up, not tear each other down
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