To be a Woman

Its an unusual time in our world. Everything is changing; our role in society is constantly evolving, we are maturing and aging, yet our lives are never really any better, just different. As women, we’re torn between so many responsibilities and still must go home to cook dinner when the day is over. We have children to care for, though our efforts are so often mediocre at best, after everything else is done. We dreamed of love and marriage as little girls, but are disillusioned and divorced, single and broken-hearted. We gave our love too quickly, before we even knew his heart. The feminists say it’s our right, we can enjoy sex too, but now rearing children as a single mother is our life. We were fun, but not worth the sacrifice, not commitment worthy. New love is just on the other side of town, but we feel used up and disheartened. What do we need a man for anyhow? The feminists say we can do it all. We just wish doing it all didn’t include mowing the grass, playing handyman and paying all the bills by ourselves. Our little girls want daddies to show them real love. We want one for them, but don’t have time for the games, and know there are plenty of pseudo-daddies willing to make their mark, but not willing to pay the price.

Most little girls want to be princesses when they grow up, but the feminists say we don’t need husbands, so we sleep around and let men treat us like prostitutes, instead of princesses. The feminists demand respect, but as women, we have never been so disrespected and shamefully treated. We give ourselves away in bits and pieces, and wonder why we feel like something is missing, why we feel battered and bruised on the inside. It’s not about being taken care of, it’s about the dream dying inside of us. We watch our children grow up without fathers, locked in poverty and misguided, and wonder why young people are so angry, and seeking comfort through substance abuse. The feminist efforts have left us in want, hoping, but our hands are emptier still. We sacrificed our families and our dreams, and now everyone suffers. Only the blind are pleased to see what we’ve all become.

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