Guess how many women I sexually assaulted yesterday? Zero.
You see, it’s really not that difficult. I steadfastly refuse to rape a woman or kill a black person; despite the fact I am a straight white male. By being vocal about this I hope to encourage other straight white men to follow my example.
Respecting women is a full-time job if you’re a privileged white man (n.b. all white men are privileged by default), but I am living proof that it is possible. Every white man on the planet is guilty of horrendous abuse, even if he believes otherwise (apart from myself of course). I aim to change this. Every day I strive to recognize my own masculine toxicity and male arrogance. I rise above the urge to mansplain. I deftly levitate over my natural compulsion to assert dominance over any female who graciously shares her space with me. I transcend the masculine impulse to patronize those captivating creatures we call ‘women’.
Let me explain to you how it is done. A few days ago, I was traveling to the family villa in Tuscany for a well-earned break from the obnoxious far right trolls who infect my social media presence, when I saw a woman on the plane struggling to place her bag in the overhead compartment. I watched for almost a full minute as the poor dear tried and failed. The bag was falling each time she hoisted it above her fragile shoulder. In my mind I willed her to succeed. ‘Go on, you sweet darling! Just a little more, you CAN do this!’ I repeated to her in my head. She glanced at me, studying my earnest face. A flash of adorable befuddlement crossed her delicate features as my lack of manly interference must have sadly been quite new to her. She bravely carried on, attempting to achieve her goal. Again, the bag was hoisted up, and again gravity enforced its cruel laws upon it in a macabre allegory of oppressive patriarchal dominance. I stood there, sweat beading on my forehead as I focused every ounce of my strength into mentally transmitting moral support towards her.
Then to my horror, a man approached us and attempted to assist her. ‘STOP!’ I cried, ‘Don’t you DARE assume a woman is too weak to handle a situation like this by herself!’ He had the nerve to look confused, shocked even, but my clenched fists along with the righteous fury emblazoned on my face prevented him from disobeying me. ‘No, it’s OK! I could do with a hand!’ The poor fragile woman remarked. But I could tell she was only saying this because the man had intimidated her with his toxic masculinity. I gently lowered my face towards hers, slowly, so as not to startle her and being careful not to invade her personal space. ‘Do not fear him, sweet one,’ I assured her, ‘I shall not allow any harm to come to you. Go on, you may continue now.’ I smiled in a non-threatening way and nodded towards the bag.
After another two-and-a-half minutes, she eventually succeeded. “YASSSS!!! YOU GO GIRL!!!!” I screamed, as I jazz-handed with glee. Triumphant that once again, patriarchal gender-roles had been well and truly challenged and defeated. The line which had been forming behind her exhaled a collective a grunt of relief, as every person there obviously shared in her victory. I could see by the tearful look on her angelic face as she took her seat that she was grateful to me for standing up for her.
It honestly makes me so angry when men arrogantly assume women cannot deal with difficult situations themselves. If it hadn’t been for me, an obnoxious male would have asserted his power over the entire situation and taken away every shred of dignity that poor sweet girl deserved.
I hope a few of them read this and learn something.
