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Who Cares?

“Who cares?”, said very few women. We are trained since puberty to care. Our self-esteem is based on how we are perceived as “women” in a society that is staring at us with its phallic eye, yet also looking to us for motherly affection. It’s not enough that from the day we’re born we’re tutored […]

August 26, 2020

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Who Cares?

“Who cares?”, said very few women.

We are trained since puberty to care. Our self-esteem is based on how we are perceived as “women” in a society that is staring at us with its phallic eye, yet also looking to us for motherly affection.

It’s not enough that from the day we’re born we’re tutored the song of right and wrong. It doesn’t end there. Sexism and ageism mix: the younger or older we are the more we are are treated like we are fragile and daft. So we struggle to always look that exact right, fertile age.

With the appearance of fine lines and grey hair you’re a sexless grandmother. But if you lucked out and were born a man, grey hair confers you wisdom and with a bit of good looks, you can even maintain an exciting second life as someone’s “daddy”.

Most home appliance ads, even during this wokest time in history, still use Stepford women to sell. The day we question this, we take a giant step in equality. The world of glamour and marketing is still based on the male gaze. You’d think things have changed, but young women still measure their worth against unattainable photoshopped glitz.

God forbid if a woman falls in love with someone younger, she is called a Cougar. Which I suppose is better than being called a bitch. What is it with the animal names, anyway? If it’s just harmless fun, I think George Clooney should get one, too!

Yet, there is now a new breed of wise cougars, proud sluts, cunning hags and confident bitches. Grey-haired models are breaking into the scene. Sexual freedom has entered our discourse. We are realizing that a progressive society must include the right for women to feel and express the entire gamut of human experience. There is hope. Light at the end of the tunnel.

Till then, let’s take baby steps and introduce the phrase “Who cares?” into our dictionary.

Who cares what they think you aren’t capable of doing?
Who cares when you were drunk, what the doorman thought?
Who cares, when you had a fling, what the moral brigade thought?
Who cares, when you demanded attention in bed, what your chauvinist partner thought?
Who cares?

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