International Women's Day

This morning as I walked down unfamiliar streets towards the Maltese embassy, it totally slipped my mind that it was International Women's Day. I walked by a construction site and dealt with the unwanted, unsubtle stares from several men who have clearly never been told to fuck off before. Sunglasses on and head high I continued walking. Later that morning I passed two women, a lady in her mid forties and presumably her mother, holding beautiful purple and yellow irises. I asked where they got them, wanting something colourful and alive to spruce up my room and the younger woman held hers out to me. They had gotten them at a women's day event. She insisted I take the flower that I was clearly enamoured by and after some initial resistance I accepted her offer. I continued on my way, walking under the sun with my beautiful purple iris I had the biggest smile on my face. Not five minutes later a car passed by and honked, followed thirty seconds later by another honk from another car, from another group of men. 

I wanted to laugh. I thought maybe this was just some sick joke from the universe. Receive a flower on International Women's Day from the sweetest woman, and in the same five minutes experience the most universally well-known female experience; the catcall. It was pretty funny. At the end of the street I passed a man loading his motorcycle with a food delivery, I caught his eye and braced myself for the usual appraisal when he took me by surprise. He gave me the most genuine smile and said "happy women's day." I wanted to cry. The dichotomy of living as a woman hit me in full force.

There are things I love so much about being a woman that could never be replaced. I love getting to live with a house full of smart, hilarious, ambitious women and being inspired by their strength every day. I love my female friendships and the special nature of being able to connect over similar experiences. I love the mutually acknowledged but discreet strength of being a women in specific situations. The immediate companionship when you spot the only other woman in the  weight section at the gym, or when you sit next to another woman on a bus late at night and feel the mutual palpable relief of safety. 

There are elements to these experiences that make me feel strong and capable but other times they're just flat out exhausting. Sometimes I want to leave the bars early and be able to get home on my own without accompaniment, or grocery shop at 7:00pm even though the sun has set. Sometimes I get overcome with emotion and anger when a man must touch both me and a close friend on the back in order to "get by" at the club. And then I feel angry that my night has been tainted with this palpable emotion which I can't shake because that one moment has brought me back to so many others throughout my life. I resent the implication put forth by so many men that you owe them something. I hate that what I assumed was an apologetic look from the touchy man's friend was actually just amusement, that he thought maybe we'd be more into it if he pushed up against us. I hate the feeling of being devoured through someone's eyes that makes me want to cry and scream and crawl out of my own skin. That rage isn't just my own, it also belongs to all the other women that I know put up with the same things daily. 

So today I feel extreme gratitude and love for all the women in my life that have had the strength to live this way for years. I live an easy, privileged life. I by no means am trying to complain about the circumstances in which I live because I know I do so comfortably. I am just trying to paint a picture about the broader, largely unacknowledged parts of being a woman that make things difficult. The parts that have nothing to do with rights and opportunity and representation but that still make you feel the unfairness of it all. There are many women in my life that I am grateful for and that I love. I have different relationships with all of them but the thing that remains the same is their perseverance; a strength that has and always will belong to women. I see you and I love you all.

-M