I’m tired today of finding answers and selecting the proper words that won’t offend, turn-off, cut-deep, or misconvey what I’m trying to communicate. Its one of those days where I hear conversations that perhaps I “should” be a part of or those in which I believe “my” perspective needs to be heard, but I can’t seem to summon the gumption or effort to say a thing. “Read my mind” is what I’m thinking, but I’m torn because to not speak up also casts them to their one-sided train of thought that could benefit from a good challenge.
Although today it is tiredness with perhaps a touch of laziness, other days I believe it is fear. Fear that what I will say will be rejected, or misconstrued, or misunderstood, or, worse yet, that people will think that I’m stupid or another one of those feminist b***es or heaven-forbid unable to support my beliefs with good hard scientific evidence. I feel this intense pressure to do-right by the females and answer every question perfectly and rebut each argument with confidence so as to stand as a good representative for my kind. But sometimes people ask me questions or become argumentative and I don’t know where to start. Sometimes I feel attacked and use all of my energy curbing my anger and not epitomizing the typical “feminist b****” that I stumble through an awkward answer and spend the rest of the day kicking myself for it. Sometimes I become reticent when a Christian male wants to turn-the-discussion-all-biblical not because I don’t know the answer, but because I know by his beliefs that he already sees himself as having the upper hand.
On days of tiredness and on days of fear I long to invite them to my kitchen to start the day with me. Be the bird on my shoulder and observe how in the wee hours of the morning someone of my kind communes with God, and sips her coffee, and watches the hummingbirds. How I greet my husband and rush hurriedly out the door, toothbrush in tow, to my day full of classes and clients and supervision and conversations. See how I utter expletives in traffic and whine about the heat in California. How I lose patience with myself and work too hard and worry about my future and try to shove all the shards of my life back together hoping it will look how it should. See how I live? See how similar our lives are? I want you to see my humanity first, before my gender and before any evaluation of my beliefs. Then lets sit down. I’ll brew some tea and we’ll agree not to interrupt or raise our voices or be committed to our side simply because it is our side. Because honestly on some days I’m tired or afraid of coming to your court and it would be really nice if you would meet me on mine.