International Women’s Day: A Celebration?

I am fucking depressed.

And I think rightly so. Next week is March 8th. You know what March 8th is? International Women’s Day. Yes, the day the entire world stops and declares that women are entitled to equal rights. Which of course, we are.

But all I can see around me is fucking hypocrisy.

It’s March. This year is only two months old, and already seven women in Australia have been killed in horrendous acts of violence. In 2016, the death tolls ran to 71 women. Destroy The Joint estimate that around 80% of these deaths were a direct result of spousal abuse.  We live in a world where actual rapists are walking free. A world where women are being raped and killed by men who have previously spent time in prison for sexual and physical violence against women. A world where my choices to travel to countries that some men are intimidated by are judged as poor choices. A world where I am told I am “unrapeable” on the daily. A world where a woman who survives strangulation by her partner is 8 times more likely to die by his hand than another attacker. A world where the President of the USA doesn’t even try to cover up his previous assaults of women. Where Australian political commentors are allowed to publish pieces of crap like this and this. A world where ex-leaders of major political parties excuse domestic violence as a “coping mechanism“. A world where we are still missing 219 school girls in Nigeria. A world where funding cuts to women’s refuge has the Australian Prime Minister claiming that he started the conversation about violence against women. A world where I can’t even sit in a pop-up bar in my city without some dickhead telling my lesbian friend he would like her to blow him just to check she really is a lesbian. A world where women are still protesting their right to choose what happens to their own bodies. A world where we are still fighting to be recognised for equal work by equal pay. A world where I have to see these piece of shit camper vans all over my city. A world in which I can’t state my choice not to procreate without judgement – and a vast majority of it from other women. A world where I’m writing posts like this and this and this.

I am tired. I am so tired of fighting, of cajoling, of pointing out subtle misogyny. Of dating guys who don’t realise how sexist they are. How homophobic they are. Of reprimanding the uneducated and the misinformed on Twitter. Of waking up anxious about what I’m going to find in my Facebook messages or Twitter feed from overnight. I am t i r e d.

Just once, I want someone to stand up for me.

For my rights.

Be my voice.

Slay my dragons.

Just. One. Fucking. Time.


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