Second to being alive and staying that way, being a woman/girl/female must be by far the toughest and yet the most beautiful thing to deal with. Don’t you dare ask me “compared to what?”, because I am talking from my experience of having been through this ALL MY LIFE! I’ve been alive all my life and as far as I know I’ve been female all my life too.

I can’t think of being any other way. I can’t think of not fussing if I should put on my coral lip gloss or go with Vaseline for the day. I can’t think of not smelling like flowers or choosing between a detailed alice-band or six inch heels as an accessory. I can’t think of not being able to dream about looking like a princess on my wedding day and being so happy that I cry. These aren’t the things that define my femininity or make me stand out among other women but they are the simple pleasures that come having ovaries being able to stop a man in his tracks with just a smile.

But like all things good and all of life there has to be a downside. And in this situation the downside is sometimes so gruesome it makes me not want to wake up in the morning, or leave my house, or trust another human being. More often than not, femininity, beauty, grace and all things womanly are associated with helplessness, vulnerability, dependency, weakness and inferiority. For this reason we often fall prey to moronic, selfish, violent marauders who have absolutely no regard for human decency or compassion. We fall prey to seemingly innocent brothers, uncles, fathers and all members of the male society that are either strangers to us or we know from everyday life. We fall prey to the very part of the universe that we are supposed to gravitate towards for support and protection. The very people, who our grace and softness is meant to compliment their masculinity and heroism, defile us and disgrace us.

Like I said these indecencies are several and some more ghastly than most things in life. We a stripped of self-respect, emotional stability, we are kicked and bruised and our hearts are dragged through pig-sty’s. We are lied to and tricked and not appreciated and insulted. We are loved in half measures and in most cases we aren’t loved at all. We are threatened and burdened and made to feel like our existence is merely for someone else’s pleasure. To these people we are no less than a gadget with a money back guarantee. We are raped, both physically and mentally, and denied control over our own bodies and our thoughts. We are expected to raise children that aren’t our own without flinching and at the same time go through tremendous amounts of pain producing and giving birth to and raising our very own children. We are drugged and scarred with no regard. And all this is done by the very people we are supposed to trust, our very own better halves, and our supposed defenders.

If you are a man and you are reading this and for some reason your conscious pushed you to reach this point of the article / whatever you want to call it, or maybe you were coaxed by the voice in your head that ridicules all things feminine, or maybe you are just a good guy who supports all women then please keep reading. This is not an attempt to make you understand women completely, but hopefully it will give you a fraction of insight or even remind you of what you already know because none of the things I have mentioned here are new. We didn’t miraculously, over the past week, change and become women.

We are fragile, and soft, and kind. We cry when things are good and we cry even harder when things are bad. We cry when things are pretty and when we cry when we are overwhelmed by romance. We are emotional beings and the sensitivity doesn’t always show on the surface. Standing up to you and being “A strong Woman” does not mean we neglect our basic feminine instinct. Wanting to be equally respected does not mean we will treat you any less like the King that you are.Most of my friends think that my thinking is ridiculous but i believe there is a natural order of things, we as women must not fight so hard to be equal to out male counterparts that we forget the joys of being a woman. When I put on my clothes every morning and pursue a career, it does not mean I will not be home after work to cook up a storm and be ready to give my object of affection a back rub. Treat me with love and respect and you will see how I will return it ten-fold.

As a stranger, appreciate the fact that me walking down the street, be it at an ungodly hour, does not mean I am inviting you to come and sexually violate me or assault me and take my belongings that I have worked hard for. It is not an invitation for you to batter me or stab me to death because in my fear of what it is you could do to me I called out for help. As an uncle, appreciate the fact that my single mother left me in your care out of trust. She is not giving you a free for all pass to steal my innocence.

Sadly there is the belief that endurance through all of this makes you ‘stronger’ or ‘more of a woman’. But at what point does one break? At what point does it become unbearable? At what point do we say, no more flowers and alice bands, no more white picket fences and princess dresses. Are we supposed to lose our grace and delicate nature? Are we supposed to grow hearts of stone and turn our backs on humanness and kindness? Are we expected to turn back a child with no mother, are we expected to lie and cheat and steal from people we ‘love’ just so we can avoid heartache and pain? Until when are we going to be under such vulnerable positions which put us at risk of harm and destruction on a daily basis?

Respect yourself enough to know that treating a woman with decency does not make you any less of a man. It does not render you weak to control yourself when I say NO. Have enough reverence for life and innocence to not lay with a defenseless child. Enough compassion and the most basic of common sense to know that women cannot survive this world without men and the same goes for men, what kind of life would they lead without women. Mere humanness, to be able to deduce that you lifting your hand and striking me across the face does more damage than a bruise or a cut that can be put together with a stitch.

All I know is how to be a woman. All I know is how to love without reservation. Please don’t make it hard for me to do what I am genetically predisposed to. Allow me to love you and respect you. Be my King and I will be your Queen.