Men’s Day, Or Stroke-inducing, angry musings ย 

You know what’s disheartening? Women all over the world fighting the patriarchy hard for our rights, for equality, while women in Colombia are celebrating men today on a bloody made up Men’s day. Doesn’t get any more patriarchal than that. Pickup artists all over the world must be laughing and shaking hands right now.

Anger, despair, face-palming, head-desking doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel right now.

Please, give me some words of wisdom. Anything. I feel so aggravated right now I am on the  verge of saying something I will regret for the rest of my life to each one of them. What a horrible thing to be so blind, so brainwashed.

A telling article in Colombia Reports gives us some disheartening numbers:

According to recently released figures, 38,000 cases of reported domestic violence were reported in 2014 alone.

Colombiaโ€™s women: Beaten, tortured and extorted

More than 16,000 Colombian women were sexually abused in Colombia in the same year.

According to the Ombudsmanโ€™s Office, 75% of women have suffered psychological abuse, 50% have been victim to physical abuse and 11% have suffered economic violence.

Please take a moment to read it. These facts -while chilling- must be known, acknowledged and acted upon.

Last year, my sister posted something to the extent of happy day to all the men in my life shit, 

I explained to her -as kindly as I could, which took the restrain I have exercised in my life, something I am rarely capable of- what the purpose of International Women’s Day is, why it had been created, how it isn’t a hallmark holiday meant to wish women a happy day for no reason, and how women are still oppressed, abused and murdered in many parts of the world. I explained why it was wrong to have a Men’s Day because every other day of the year is basically men’s day given the patriarchal nature of societies in general and Colombian one in particular.. 

And yet… and yet, there she is again this year, posting how she wishes a happy day to all the men in her life! 

Just like most of my old childhood and school friends.the same friends who were so sympathetic to our classmate who’s niece took her own life a couple of months ago due to domestic abuse. 

My friend posted all sorts of articles and statistics about the prevalence of domestic abuse. She exhorted everybody in our secret group to think about it, to share it with all the women in our lives. They all agree, of course.

And yet, here they are today, so happily posting all sort of hallmark-like thoughts of celebration for all men in their day.

I’m losing it. Seriously. I just can’t

PS: This is another post from my phone therefore formatting will be wonky.

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6 thoughts on “Men’s Day, Or Stroke-inducing, angry musings ย 

  1. Ruby Tuesday says:

    My dearest Claudia. I feel your rage. I understand and agree with it. That having been said, surely you’ve heard, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink,” or some variation. You can talk to your sister and your friends and female family members until you’re blue, and education is key to understanding.

    But this is the world they live in, one in which you lived. It takes a remarkable strength and courage to get out and go up against it, as you have. Not everyone is so capable. Probably many of these women celebrate because they are afraid of the abuse you have shown the prevalence of.

    The fact that they do talk in secret groups is something which gives cause for hope.

    Do what you do. Educate. Agitate. Resist. Encourage all the women you know to do the same. But keep I’m mind that you cannot help someone without their consent. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep trying, but if you blow fuses, you hurt yourself and cannot help anyone. โ™กโ™กโ™ก

    • Ruby Tuesday says:

      I’m glad if it was what you needed. That’s what I aim for, mostly.

      As far as mothers and sisters. . . Well, I am extremely lucky still to have my mama around. But if I were to sit and think about it too much (I won’t), I would probably come to the conclusion that my sister and I each got/get very different things from her. In many ways my sister is so much more like the women in my dad’s family. Coming from a legacy of very strong women on either side, though, we can’t go too far wrong.

      I can only imagine what it must be like for you, though. Sisters mean so much, they are our first playmates, confidantes, our first and lifelong best friends, if we are lucky. You want good for her even more than she wants it for herself, and you expect more from her because you have seen, through the years, all she can do.

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