Female Rage
(A/N): Initially, I wanted to end this one on a hopeful note. But fighting the war of equality and equity can be pretty hopeless. I tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it's came out in a very binary way. I'm sorry for that and I'm readyto change anything.
Summary: Spencer learns from his daughter how much the patriarchy really sucks.
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: the utter feeling of hopelessness in today's patriarchy, unwanted advances, some men suck
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āHey, whatās with you today?ā Spencer asks after hearing his daughter slamming the front door shut.
Her stomping feet bring her towards the living room, where he sits on the couch with a book in his hands, deciding whether or not heāll include it in his next class. Looking up from the written words, he instantly spots all the emotion running over (Y/N)ās face.
Now, being a father to a 16 year old teenager wasnāt always easy and especially since puberty started itās becoming increasingly difficult to decipher his child, but Spencer knows right away what kind of emotional cocktail is playing here: Anger, hurt, a pinch of shock and layered under all of this is a certain type of fear. Which one is up to (Y/N) telling him.
āWhatās with me today?ā She asks him in an incredulous tone. āWith me? What about you? Or your entire gender. No, seriously. How can you men go around, trumpeting how you are the stronger, the smarter, the better, the most superior gender? And mean that? Even going as far as to believe that bullshitā
(Y/N) stops, taking in a deep breath. Her father looks at her with waiting eyes, thinking that she now will calmly explain to him what her whole tirade is about. But it seems that this was just the prologue. Because she continues with even more vigour in her voice than she started with.
āFor real, what makes you even think that? Stronger than a person, who was assigned female at birth? Just because you are able to build muscles faster than we? Or lose weight faster than us? You know what I call that? An evolutionary problem, because while I got emergency fat to feed off in the case of, I donāt know, an apocalypse, you will freeze to death.
āOur bodies are, for the most part, able to grow an entire functioning human being. We literally take a breakfast bar and build fingers with that energy.
āAnd for the smarter part? No, absolutely not. So many findings in history have been stolen from women by men, who greedily put their name on it and call it a day of science. Without women, cars probably would still drive around with windshield wipers. Mary Anderson has been laughed at for that idea, despite being one of the first women to hold a patent. And as soon as it expired, suddenly wipers were installed in all cars. Out of nowhere, it stopped being a dumb idea? Just because you werenāt able to attribute it to a woman?!
āBut what more to expect from a gender that made protective gear for their testicles in hockey mandatory a hundred years before doing the same thing with a helmet. Who would have thought that brain cells need protection, too? A woman definitely.
I donāt wanna say one gender is better than the other or that there should be a particular fight between any gender at all, but men make it out like that. Damn it, they make women compete with each other to garner their attention. All those āpick meā girls you make fun of? They are the product of internalised misogyny.
āThe baseline is wanting to be different from the ātypical girlā, right? Well, what is a typical girl, who defined her and why is it so bad to be typical. Who do I want to be different for? Who is mad that Iām dressing up, putting makeup on or having good friendships with other girls?
āMen apparently, because they donāt want a different girl. They donāt want a well dressed, put together woman for the sake of love or so. They want someone easy. Nothing complicated, not someone, who asks them if these pants do look better with that shirt or this blouse. They donāt want to be confronted with problems. Thatās why they made up a narrative of how a woman is supposed to be, solely for their own interest.
āAnd this whole thing eradicates the beautiful experiences you can have as a woman. I donāt talk about these silly and partly belittling things like girl dinner or girl maths. Iām talking about hyping each other up. Bathrooms in a club are fun, because there are a bunch of strangers, talking another stranger up to shoot their shot. Or down from texting their ex. There is unity.
āSo where do men get their audacity?!ā
Ending her whole rant with this question, (Y/N) stands in front of her father, seething and looking like she is about to overthrow the patriarchy with her own two hands. Right here, right now.
Meanwhile Spencer has started to shrink into the sofa and looks as physically small as possible.
āUhm, the audacity for what, Sweetheart?ā He asks hesitantly, scared for her reaction, but also knowing that this is something his daughter needs to get out of her system.
āTO WALK UP TO ME AND TRYING TO GET SOMETHING ON WITH ME WHILE HE CLEARLY HAS BEEN TRYING TO DESTROY MY WHOLE PRESENTATION! TO FLIRT WITH A MINOR WHILE HE CLEAR AS DAY IS IN HIS MID TO LATE TWENTIES!ā
(Y/N) falls down on the sofa face first, next to her father. He rubs her arm up and down in a soothing manner, trying to take the fall after her burst of warranted female rage.
āI apologise. I know, there is nothing I can do against all of what you just said. I also know, like you, that we are talking about a structural problem. Itās nothing that can be solved by a few words. It sucks, knowing that your right to vote is younger than the patent on the first motorised vehicle. Itās not right that you always have to stick up for your rights, while mine will never be threatened.
āNothing about all of this is fair. That I have to raise you in a way to remind you that any man out there could hurt you. Itās not fair that you have to go tell other men making advances at you about an imaginary boyfriend, because they rather believe in the legitimation of a fake male than your no. That you have to say no more than once, just because someone wants to āmake sure you really mean itā.
āI canāt do anything right now that will satisfy you.
āBut I can promise you that I will always listen to you. Listen to what makes you mad about this system. I will listen to other people, telling me how the patriarchy failed them. I promise to uplift the women in my life, give credit where itās due and try to be the best feminist I can be.
But you need to promise me to tell me how I can support you the best in a world that wants to diminish your opinion, your rights and you. Can we do that?ā
A short moment of silence gives Spencer the opportunity to think about instances, where he had to endure how (Y/N) being born female made her life more difficult. May it be boys pulling your hair on the playground and the teacher saying that they show love in this abusive way. May it be being called emotional or being told to stop being dramatic while talking about her problems. May it be in simply enjoying stereotypical girly things and being called basic because of that.
āYes, I promise, Iāll keep you in check. And if you start rambling about how men are superior, Iāll ship you off to the worst retirement home I can find,ā (Y/N) says, voice a bit muffled by the couch pillows.
The family continues sitting in silence, the feeling of deep and utter unfairness seeping into their bones.
If you have come this far, please consider a reblog or a comment. Not holding you at gunpoint or anything, but it would be pretty neat.
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