About six years ago, I was taking my toddler daughter to meet her new babysitter. I was heading back to work and we needed childcare for her two days a week, and a woman who watched a friend’s kids came highly recommended. Everything was going well and she asked if we had other kids. “Yes, she has two older sisters,” I said, bracing myself for the comments that would follow because, without fail, they always follow. “Oh my goodness!”, she said. “Three girls is crazy. I am so glad I only have boys. Girls are such a pain in the ass.” My first failure was allowing my precious babe to stay with this woman, but I started my new job two days after our meeting and had nowhere else for her to go. To be fair, my girl always came home fully intact, clean, happy, and with a full belly, and the sitter did dote on her and always told me she was such a good baby and a pleasure to have. Generally speaking, she was being well-cared for. But every time I looked at that woman, I thought about the fact that I was leaving my daughter with a self-loathing, male-centered bitch and I hated myself a little bit for it.
Having daughters in this hellscape is the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. On one hand, I’ll never have to experience the heartbreak of seeing my son turn into a monster. On the other hand, every time my girls are out of my sight I worry constantly about their safety and wellbeing. On one hand, birthing a trio of sisters and having a house filled with girls has been the honor and delight of my life. On the other hand, they move around the world with boys and men, many of whom believe they are entitled to their minds, bodies, and souls just because they are girls. I am so glad I did not give birth to my potential future oppressors.
When I thought about being a mother before I was one, I suppose I assumed I would have at least one son, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I would have daughters. I knew them before they existed. There has never been a moment in my life when I did not know them deep in my core, before I ever really even considered them. They were built by my blood, my cells, my bones, my sweat, my love, my will, my moxie. You have seen how passionate I am about strangers, about global injustice, about things that most people think do not affect me in any way. Wait until you see how passionate I am about my children.
I need the parents of boys to understand- If one of your crusty, rotten sons ever harms, violates, or harasses my daughters, he will be returned to you in a body bag. I am not being hyperbolic. If a boy or a man ever does to one of my daughters what was done to Jane Doe at Cornell, it will be the last time he draws breath on this Earthly plane. I have no fear of going to prison. Three squares a day and no bills? Bet. And I’m not making idle threats like the men do when they’re peacocking for each other, I mean that shit with every fiber of my being.
I am done on waiting for something from the justice system that will never come. I am done giving men the benefit of the doubt. I am done with the excuses being made for them. I am done with women being blamed for their own rapes. I am done accepting silence from men when it comes to women being assaulted while they refuse to shut the fuck up about literally everything else. I am done playing devil’s advocate. I. Am. Fucking. Done. The time for delusion is over. The men fucking hate us. They hate us so much that they’d rather get online and bitch about algorithms than plainly condemn violent gang rape. They hate us so much that when you mention to one of them that their friend was being really weird and handsy with their teenage daughter, they get mad at YOU. They hate us so much that they have to make up villains and pretend to care about our safety from those villains rather than acknowledge that the only real threat to us is them.
Men are not protectors. They’re mindless brutes who care only about the opinions of other men. They yearn for validation from their male peers like a baby yearns for milk- voraciously and without reason. I’ll not entertain the argument that women are responsible for being raped in any way. I do not care if she took 10 shots of tequila with a Molly chaser. I do not care if she wore only a string bikini to the frat party. She should be able to be buck naked in the middle of Times Square blacked out in the crosswalk and still not fucking be raped. The argument that women shouldn’t get drunk and dress slutty if they don’t want to be attacked by men literally proves every point I am trying to make: men are rabid animals that need to be put down when they cannot control themselves.
It’s the only way. Men who believe they are entitled to a woman’s body no matter her protestations cannot be rehabilitated, they cannot be reformed. Once they cross that line, there is no turning back. It is a violation that cannot be forgiven. There were 57 men in the group chat at Cornell. Yes, only seven of them actually raped Jane Doe, but 49 of them saw it and did nothing about it. Nothing. They took not a single action. They didn’t call the cops, they didn’t contact her friends, they simply saw the text offering “free pussy” and decided it was business as usual. Allegedly, one of the guys in the group chat slept through the evening’s terrors and woke up the next day horrified by what he saw and sent screenshots of the chat to Jane Doe. One out of 57. What a ringing endorsement for the menfolk!
My eldest daughter is a senior in high school. We’re going on college visits. This time next year, she’ll be a college student, maybe hundreds of miles away from me. And I know the kind of boys she’ll be around because almost all of them are the exact same. They grew up in households where they watched their moms do absolutely everything without complaint without ever considering why that is because their dads are also useless dickwads. They grew up online where they were inundated with red pill bullshit and truly believe the lunacy those cunts spew. They’re listening to Pat McAfee and Joe Rogan and Jordan Peterson and Andrew Tate and truly believe in their heart of hearts that women are no different than livestock. These are her peers. The strangers she’ll be around while I am here and she is there.
And it’s all because of women and parents like that fuck ass babysitter. Because they sincerely believe that raising boys is so much easier when in actuality, it SHOULD be much harder because you’re trying to undo and rewire centuries of evolutionary conditioning and drown out every external influence trying to ruin your boys. People who phone it in when raising boys may not actively be encouraging harm, but if you’re not making a concerted effort to not raise monsters, chances are that’s exactly what he’ll be. It is literally written into their DNA. Raising boys RIGHT is not for the weak. Make sure you’re prepared for it before procreating.
As a woman married to a man whom she loves and adores and cherishes, these sentiments may seem shocking. You may feel bad for my poor husband, cooped up in this house shackled to a man-hating shrew. I need you to understand that he is exactly where he wants to be. Because he knows when I write things like this, they do not apply to him. So if you’re angry about what I’ve said, it’s likely because they do, in fact, apply to you. Not being a monster simply isn’t enough anymore. Complicity and silence are violence. Not doing anything about a terrible thing you could prevent is just as bad as doing the terrible thing.
Fellas, stay moving like this at your own peril. I have been a woman on this Earth for 41 years and have never known a collective rage like I feel amongst the sisterhood right now. And since I want to be fair here- the male-centered, patriarchal women are going to be some of the biggest ops we face. They also need to be reprogrammed. They have the possibility of being reformed, but it will take a lot of work. The men though? Centuries of empirical data show that they simply cannot be trusted to live safely amongst civilized society. From this moment on, it should be one and out. You get one chance not to violently violate another human. If that feels unreasonable to you, I must demand that you hand over your hard drive expeditiously.
I’m going to leave with you this parting sentiment: If a Genie showed up on my doorstep today and told me I could have one wish, and my wish was that every rapist on Earth immediately perished, how many do you think that would be? How many of the friends you insist on protecting would drop dead next to you on the golf course? How many group chats would fall silent? Keep in mind, rape comes in many forms. There would be no caveats. Rape or coercion of any flavor would constitute instant death, marital or otherwise. Because I’m thinking it would be a staggering number. A mass extinction event, in fact. So before you start commenting about misandry or not all men or whatever the fuck grievance you may decide to spew out of your stupid mouth about what I’ve written here, firstly I need you to know that I do not give a shit. Secondly, if you’re actually honest with yourself, I think you’ll realize that I’m right. It is just so easy not to rape people. So, so fucking easy. If you disagree, well. Off with your head(s).
