All. 

When debating over the topic of choice in which to write this letter, there was a question that stood out to me; “What would you do if somebody told you to wait?” The question is most certainly one to draw moments from my life when I was told to wait. I was told to wait as a child, perhaps in line at the grocery. I have been told to wait until I’m older on more than one occasion. And I am told to wait when it comes to myself as a woman. To my rights. I’ve been told beyond the word “wait.” It has been said mine are not equal. Mine are not even in existence in some respects. To the question I began with, I do not want to wait. And I cannot believe any woman should have to await her rights. For the guarantee of them, or for the other shoe to drop. 

In breaching my matter of discussion, I’d like to say I don’t intend to write about a position on reproductive rights or breaking the glass ceiling in the workplace. I do wish to briefly touch on the topic of women’s wiring for society. In the last two weeks, Spotify has made it their mission to give me new songs to listen to. The process happens every few months. I’ll put a song on that I enjoy, and then all the sudden I’m an hour into new music that I’m adding to my “Most Liked” playlist and now listen to on repeat. It’s fitting to pull from one of the singles I’ve discovered. Morgan St. Jean’s song “Not All Men” has been a weird sort of comfort that I’d argue a majority of the 5,730,122 plays has also evoked for others. 

“Have you ever walked a little faster after midnight when you’re all alone?” Boy, have I ever. “Have you ever blamed yourself for drinking thinking maybe you’re the reason why?” In my personal experience I have not befallen this experience, except I know women who have. The scariest thing is that through her entire song I could list women and girls by name who could answer “yes” to several of the questions she asks throughout the entirety of her song. Why? Can I not walk to my car after my shift at work without having my keys ready before I take a step outside? Does she really have to feel like her skirt was past the “just right” length? A dress code she wasn’t privy to? Or her, doubting whether to press charges or not because it could ruin his life. How was her life affected when he hit her? 

Women have been raised to walk, talk, and dress and view themselves in a light that is often not their own. To which I respond to society with a statement, one I feel embodies the views of little girls sitting on their fathers’ shoulders, all the love in the world. It also expresses the women in college who wake up in states they don’t remember asking for. As well as the ladies who never thought their husbands could be the ones who broke them. For myself personally, I understand fully why you continue to count off your sisters in any public setting. Every woman knows that it is not all men. Every girl knows that it is not all men. We know it is some of them. And we know that it is all women.