I’ve stood behind many men.
Male bosses have presented my ideas. They’ve asked me questions about projects so they could sound informed when speaking to the client. Male friends in school asked me when assignments were due and what was required so they could turn in homework on time and seem prepared. Male coworkers have appeared attentive, greeting people by name only after asking me what those names were. My husband depends on me as the calendar, scheduler, and designated rememberer of all the things, keeping his life organized in ways he knows, and those he maybe doesn’t always recognize.
I help men in so many ways and often without complaint. I’ve also helped them with many complaints, venting to other women about the theft of my ideas, the lack of acknowledgment for my significant role in whatever they needed, and the complete disregard for the effort it takes to make something feel effortless for them. Even worse, there’s all the invisible work that only gets noticed when it doesn’t get done. I imagine you’ve been there, too.
I’ve been taught to be helpful, that as a woman it is one of the most important things I can be. The problem is the ones we’ve historically helped are now not only not helping us, they are actively trying to hinder and hurt us.
There are, of course, exceptions to this. Husbands or friends or whoever else who are allies and advocates. But I’m not writing about nuances. I’m writing about the big, sweeping themes we’re currently seeing play out and have historically, systemically always been around.
Becoming a mom the same year a convicted criminal and known rapist was re-elected has stirred up an animalistic instinct within me. I find myself looking around at the women in my life and those I’ve never met wondering if they feel it too: the power, the potential. Perhaps experiencing my body literally grow and bring an entire human into the world has changed me. Because I now understand, in a way I never fully did before, what I’m truly capable of. When I look at my daughter and imagine anyone doing to her some of the things I’ve experienced—things so many women have endured—my proclivity to help transforms into a compulsion to fight.
Men hold power because they’ve taken it while actively suppressing women’s. We help them maintain their dominance through both invisible labor and very visible labor, not to mention literal child labor. They thrive because they’ve positioned us as their support system, reaping the benefits while we bear the burdens. While we’re also on the receiving end of dangerous, harmful policies that threaten our lives.
Men are terrified of women. That’s why they work so hard to strip us of our power while simultaneously using us to secure more for themselves. They’ve manipulated women into policing each other, and some women willingly play along, clinging to the crumbs of power men have granted them. By dividing us, men ensure we stay in our place. Because as half the population, we could stand a real chance at fighting back if we all united.
But isn’t that a story we’ve heard countless times throughout history, especially during more dangerous and horrific periods for other marginalized groups? “Why didn’t they fight back?”
Because systems are meticulously designed to ensure we can’t—or to make us too afraid to try. Better writers than me have broken down how this explains so much: why we still don’t have paid leave in this country, why women continue to earn less than men for the same work, why abortion access and bodily autonomy have been stripped away yet again, why birth control is under threat, and why there’s an entire PR campaign glorifying tradwives as the “ideal” lifestyle.
In recent decades, women have made significant strides toward equality—not achieving it, but getting closer than ever before. Then 2016 ushered in a movement intent on undoing those gains, with an even larger campaign last year and now a “project 2025” to finish the job.
You don’t pour this much time, effort, resources, and energy into suppressing a group that isn’t a threat. Men know this. It’s time women do, too.
We are terrifying.
We are capable.
We are the threat.
Think about all of the work you do in your daily life. Moms, especially you. Sometimes it feels like we make the Earth spin, like without us, everything would fall apart. We keep men fed, clothed, on time, prepared, informed, healthy. We give them time, praise, and children.
Without women, men could not have power.
They’ve caused so much damage, so much harm, and it’s time we say so. In the coming years (and however long the fallout lasts), when they try to gaslight us into believing their decisions are meant to help or protect us, let’s call it what it is—a lie.
Because women know better than anyone: help isn’t about taking control, silencing someone, or causing harm under the guise of care. Real help is providing the tools and support someone needs to be successful/happy/healthy/better. We’re the experts in helping—not them.
And it feels like time we stop offering ours.
Resources for better reading
These are writers who’ve explored similar topics in much more eloquent, researched ways than I could.
- - anything of hers is amazing, but this one is a great place to start.
- - specifically, this one about pitying women married to awful men
- - literally anything by her always, but I love this one about how men and women are socialized
- - she writes a lot about tradwives, and has such a refreshing angry-funny tone
A few things happened this week to inspire this essay: I watched the movie Nightbitch (and really liked it); I tried to avoid overconsuming the political news (but caught the atrocious stories anyway); I removed Instagram from my phone; I caught up on the Providence strike happening in Portland, largely led by women.
This isn’t a time when I want “cozy” recommendations. Or to be distracted with “feel-good” things. But I’m also not actively seeking to inundate myself with bad news or bad feelings. I’m stumbling around trying to find ways to cope. This week, writing from a place of powerful anger did the trick. What are you doing to get by?
*Cover image found on Dribbble by Shelby Rodeffer.
"Perhaps experiencing my body literally grow and bring an entire human into the world has changed me. Because I now understand, in a way I never fully did before, what I’m truly capable of. " YES. Women are so powerful, you've written a rally cry, Allyson.
Tell ‘em 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽