The Feminist Neanderthal

For the those that are on the fence, female oppression is real. The "male gaze" is real. The patriarchy is real. And my pre-programmed desire to procreate, my biological attraction to hips, breast, kindness, symmetry, physical and mental strength, and stability is also real. At least to me it is.

Fighting the Good Fight

I'd like to consider myself an advocate for equity, equality, and a card-carrying feminist. So much so, that I feel that it's silly to announce one's advocacy for equal rights for women. It's like a white person announcing proudly, "I think black people are humans, too." If you're not a feminist, by default you're a misogynist. By definition, that seems to be the only other option. Either you're for women's equality or you feel they're undeserving. It's a black and white issue in time where many perspectives and ideologies skew gray. Now that that's out of the way, please humor me as I detail the level of my social awareness, or "wokeness." I'm a vegan, for the animal's sake and not my personal health. I buy fair-trade chocolate, coffee, and I buy most my clothing from consignment shops as to not further fund sweatshops, deforestation, and global oppression. I marched in Atlanta for Treyvon Martin, Mike Brown, and for the Women's March. I only watch homemade porn uploaded directly to Tumblr and not from mainstream sites that promote rape culture and fund the oppressive patriarchal industry. Plus, I've seen every Netflix documentary. In other words..."I think black people are humans too." I know what you're thinking, "How benevolent! How evolved! If only all men were this thoughtful and insightful!" I agree, but seriously I really try to be aware about my actions and contributions to the progress or counter-progress on the road to fairness and egalitarianism.

The Conundrum

Pre-programming? I don't know who to blame for my "hard-wiring." Is it nature, or was it nurtured, honed, developed, fed, and grown into a psychological Audrey that begs to be fed with more! More what? Desire. Lust. There is a war in my thoughts, and I don't have many fellow soldiers to confide in, nor generals to seek guidance from. This war is between my thoughts and desire for equality and my cock. I felt amazing attending the 2017 Women's March. I stood in solidarity with fellow humans that shared the same goals with me. I felt strong. I felt connected. I felt like a lurking perv. I'm surrounded by beautiful, powerful, loud, intelligent, and strong women and I wanted to fuck. Conscientiously, and in a preferred female dominated style, but still fuck nonetheless. I seriously felt the same guilt as getting a boner in church. "This can't be the appropriate place nor time to feel this way!" It didn't matter. As I gazed upon the sea of unshaven legs and armpits, bra-less protesters, and yoga pants clad women I became shamefully aroused. The signs got wittier. The chants got louder, and I became horny. Great day for sweat pants. A quick waistband tuck fixed my embarrassing evidence that I'm not evolved enough, nor mature enough to participate in the movement. You can't scream "FUCK THE PATRIARCHY" while thinking, "nice ass." At least I think you can't. Oh, wretched man I am.

Male Evolution (We can play nice.)

Women, men, media, and everything else is evolving, but everything in its own time. I can't speak for all men (but I will), but we are interested and open-minded to learning more about the plight and struggle for equality. We understand that "male privilege" is as real as global warming and as equally destructive to humanity. We shun the "male gaze," utterly reject "rape culture," fight against gender norms and stereotypes, and raise our daughters the same way we raise our sons. We support you while you define beauty, sensuality, and power by your own terms. All while trying very hard to not check out your ass. This is our "growth area" that I'm asking, as the spokesperson for evolving men, if you'd be patient with us. Especially as we march side by side with you as we collectively bare our nipples.

Free the Nipple is the film that inspired protests by topless women in New York City.