Female privilege is a myth.
Because if it were real
I wouldn’t have been scared
but flattered
The first time,
a man twice my age,
told me I was pretty.
Female privilege is a lie.
Because every ‘advantage,’
we are graciously given
comes with a catch.
Every chivalrous gesture
any basic human decency
comes with an expectation
that you’ll give part of yourself away.
Female privilege is a farce.
Because somehow we are murdered
At the hands of ‘nice guys,’
Who just wanted our phone number.
Female privilege is a bedtime story.
Written by rape culture,
to redirect blame and flip the shame
to soothe the wounds of guilty men.
And how dare we feel anything but guilt
for the wrongdoings of,
Our brothers,
Our sons,
Our fathers,
Our classmates,
Our friends,
Our co-workers,
Our bosses,
Our politicians.
If Female Privilege were real,
Our biggest fears could be
spiders, or heights, or death.
But Instead of setting crawler traps,
Staying off ladders and tall buildings,
Driving the speed limit and staying healthy,
We cover-up
We are home before dark
We are not too nice
We are not too mean
We don’t leave our drinks unattended
We are always armed,
With our pepper spray on our keys and our keys between our knuckles.
What a privilege.
