Inferior

I grew up being pushed around

by two older brothers who loved me to death,

who knocked the wind out of me with playful punches.

I marveled at how fast their thumbs could move

while playing Black Ops on the Xbox.

I thought all boys must be this cool.

They made me tough, but built armor around me

to shelter me from the world.

My dad treated me like one of the guys,

letting me ride ATVs and skate on the halfpipe

he built in our driveway when I was 6.

He always asked if I was okay, but pushed me

to play in the mud and get dirty.

How wrong I was to think that all men

are as safe and protective as my own blood.

Being daddy’s little girl does not prepare you

for having to clutch a can of pepper spray

as you walk home from work at night.

Even though it is a short five minute walk,

it is better to be safe than sorry.

It does not prepare you for having to hold conversations

with strange men on the street, even if you don’t want to,

because if not you will get taken and

become another face on the “Missing” poster board.

Women outnumber the amount of men on the earth,

and beat them in life expectancy.

Yet we are inferior.

Bound by glass ceilings in corporate,

shamed for wearing clothes to class

that boys sexualize.

Tank tops, shorts that go above our knees.

But we are the ones to blame, because

“Boys will be boys”.

My mother haunts me with stories

of times when she had to carry herself.

She tells me that even when she did laundry,

the most innocent of acts,

she was held to the floor by a random predator and

forced to fight for her life.

Even at 19 years old,

she still makes me text her when I reach my destination

Who knew life could come with so many hazards

simply for being a certain gender.

When I was a freshman in college I went to a party.

A boy asked me why I wouldn’t dance on him,

I told him I had a boyfriend,

and he said he respected me.

I thought to myself how simple the interaction had gone.

It made me wonder if he would have reacted aggressively

if I had simply said I wasn’t interested.

Why couldn’t it be like this for every girl?

I was forced to grow up faster than everyone else

because I had to learn to look out for myself.

I now look at women who are strangers to me

and watch them in public to ensure that they

are safe too.

Every day more and more women are earning respect

and teaching us to lift one another.

But it seems the number of those on the “Missing”

signs that I fear so much

is only growing larger.

Equality.

A word we learn early in our elementary days.

One that we are constantly advocating,

yet forgetting how to live it.

My family has done their best in teaching me what equality means.

Society, however, still struggles with learning it.

For now, I’ll dream of days when women

can safely walk alone at night and freely live

without fear of being inferior.