Pretty Good, For A Girl

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the degree of misogyny in the world. It’s 2017, for fucks sake. It’s hard to wrap my brain around the unconsciousness of much of humanity. I took this title from a song written and performed by the renowned saxophone player Mindi Abair. Her skill with the sax is incredible, prompting a number of male musicians to comment, “ You’re pretty good, for a girl”. She wrote the song after hearing that. (Her band is called Mindi Abair and the Boneshakers. If you like the blues, and smoking hot sax, and guitar legend Joe Bonamassa, listen to this chick tear it up. )

I can’t help but wonder what having a penis or a vagina has to do with anything in life. When I entered the convent, I really wanted to become a priest, not a nun. The Catholic church doesn’t allow that. In my innocence, I asked the priest at the convent why I couldn’t become a priest, and celebrate mass like he did. He was unprepared for that question. He said, well, you can’t. You’re a girl. I said, so, because I don’t have a penis I can’t celebrate mass? That makes no sense. He didn’t answer me.

Watching women be discriminated against, objectified, sexually abused, harassed, and treated as chattel has always infuriated me. It’s a sickness in the soul of the Race Mind, as is racism, and has been for thousands of years. Women are still seen as property, even now. Why do women take their husbands name when they get married? They’re not getting adopted. What man would be asked to do that? At social functions, men get asked “ what do you do?” Women get asked “ are you married? Do you have children? “ If the answer is no, a woman is seen as less, in some way. Even famous, successful women often have to defend their choice to have a career, rather than have children, as if it’s anyone’s fucking business what our choices are. It’s crazy. The end of many wedding ceremonies is usually “ I now pronounce you man and wife”. What? Not husband and wife. MAN and wife. What? Really?

Watching the huge number of men being held accountable for sexual assault, like a tidal wave, is not shocking. What is shocking is how many people are invested in discrediting the women reporting their abuse. “ Why didn’t they come forward sooner” is the refrain. As a therapist, I cannot count how many clients over forty years have shared their stories of sexual abuse with me, along with the words “ I’ve never told anyone about this.” Usually accompanied by crying, shaking, and intense shame. But, sure, it’s such a safe thing to share with people. Right. Listening to the men being accused try to defend their actions is beyond ludicrous. “ I thought it was consensual.” Excuse me. Whipping out your dick because you think someone wants to watch you jerk off is no woman’s idea of a good time. (News flash. ) Rubbing on us, groping us, grabbing us, is not consensual. Rape is not consensual. And despite what some deluded people think, being in a relationship with someone does not prevent you from being raped by your partner. ( One celebrity PR person said this week that a famous actor didn’t rape his girlfriend, because they were in a relationship. So, it wasn’t rape. Even though she was unconscious, from him allegedly drugging her drink.)

The doctor overseeing the teens on the U.S. Olympic gymnastic team has been accused of sexually abusing 125 teens, the youngest was 12. He’s very sorry, though. He’s pleaded guilty.

The male entitlement to access to women’s bodies is beyond belief. We have a president who is on tape openly bragging about grabbing women by the pussy. What a disgusting pervert. And people still voted for him.

Women have had to fight for every human right. The right to vote, the right to have reproductive control over our own bodies. Control over our own money, our own property.

Enough. It’s time for this travesty to end. No one owns us. We are amazing souls on our own journey. We are not defined by our uterus, our boobs, our looks, our ass, any of it. We are defined by our hearts, our capacity to love, and our brilliance at whatever the fuck we choose to do. The next time someone says, are you married? Do you have children? Or, that’s pretty good, for a girl, laugh. Then turn your back and walk away. Or, say, hey, I was just thinking, your capacity for speech is pretty good, for an asshole. But, that’s just me. Blessings, Judith