Why I Played Small

Pondering my reaction to Mick Jagger’s treatment, my mostly gone anxiety and fear of excessive attention, I had an epiphany. Eureka! It wasn’t just white men, no no no, my need to shrink myself started with my stepdad. When it was just us girls, my sister and I, he instilled extreme sexism in us. We did chores as early as 8 for me, which meant 6 for my sister. It wasn’t the labor, it was why he made us do it. In his archaic mind our sole occupation in life was bagging a husband. Never once did he ask us what we wanted to be, only drilling us about the domestic mistakes made. He also told us children should be seen and not heard. Making us sit in silence for hours if we went with him after school (but if we were at Josephine’s, a no nonsense white woman who dragged him in her raspy cigarette laden voice, we were allowed freedom).

“Get the fuck out of here with that, children are made to play. Get up and play.”
“Sit down, I said sit down you sit. THEY MY KIDS ,” he railed in patois.
“IT’S MY FUCKING HOUSE I SAY WHAT GOES. GET UP AND PLAY. YOU DON’T TELL ME, OR THEM WHAT TO DO IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. YOU MUST BE OUT OF YOUR GOT DAMN MIND.” She won.

He belittled us as people every chance he got. Then he’d sate us with all the latest gadgets: Techno Dog, electronic diary’s, Lisa Frank everything, Furbies, Tamagochi’s, Giga Pets, Barbies, our porcelain doll collection, those sparkly castles that doubled as teapots, you know the ones, Spice Girl lollipops, any and everything under the sun. But I was terribly depressed, elementary school is when I was my most suicidal. Every night I prayed to God to take me in my sleep. One time I screamed it at my mom.

“I just wanna die already, I never asked to be here.” Unsure of how to react she made me sit in a corner, her feelings were hurt. That’s what she told me later.

Women are not inferior. We are people who deserve to make our own choices about our own lives. My stepdad did not treat us as humans; no amount of material items could amend the psychological trauma it caused. Look how long it’s taken me to dismantle. Playing small for me is over, I will not apologize for being a powerful fucking woman. I’m not here to make you comfortable. My purpose is to take out anyone who wants to stick to oppressive paradigms. Compassion is for the people who deserve it. Run pull up. In what ways does misogyny shape your life? Do you benefit from, or suffer from it? If the former how do you use it to aid others? Via: Feminist Jazzy