Because I was born female.
Female is my sex.
This , without quoting the whole of DeBeauvoir, meant that I “became a woman”.
Woman is my gender.
However I dress.
Whatever job I do.
Whatever I feel about this.
However I “identify”.
The rest of the world sees woman.
The rest of the world sees that gender.
My sex is my badge.
Of my gender.
And the rest of the world will punish me if I reject that.
If I reject the notion that my gonads are my destiny.
If I reject the cage that is gender and scorn the politics of those who adopt that “identity”, thereby giving legitimacy to stereotype.
Because the rest of the world will punish me if I dare to be female “without due care and attention”.
Because from puberty, I must hide the very thing which that covering only serves to enhance, lest I be called a slut.
Because from puberty, I must advertise my availability lest I get called a prude.
Either way, I’m forced into highlighting my fecundity.
Because the dichotomy of woman is that I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
All because I have a vagina.
Whatever I think.
So , mindful of the reality that I cannot un-sex myself, I engage in discourse with women that strives to end the imposition of that cage that is woman.
To free myself.
To be, in my tiny way, part of that which seeks to demolish the monolith of patriarchy.
And free the female.