Dear Men, I Don’t Owe You A Thing
Noboby ever claimed that. Least of all me. I don’t even know you. But: That’s reciprocal, I don’t owe you anything either.
I don’t owe you a thing simply because I’m a broad, a chick, a girl, a gal, a chica, a lady, a member of the fair sex, a skirt, a pair of tits and ass, borne from Adam’s rib — in other words, a woman.
We’re gonna fill a lot of pages with text, aren’t we?
I don’t owe you a smile on your cue to brighten up your day because your inability to regulate your own emotions, that you now hold me responsible for, was always dismissed as “boys will be boys.”
I…. what? You haven’t understood the “emotions and men” thing, right? And I do hold you responsible for talking about a topic you have 0 knowledge of – you are an adult, after all. But it’s a free country, if you want everyone you know you are stupid; feel free to do that. But please, don’t come blame me for telling you that; that’s your responsibility.
I don’t owe you my silence when you interrupt me at a work meeting, brunch chat among old friends, or in front of our children — I will bulldoze through with a shaming, “Excuse me, I’m talking now.”
Go try. But chances are we’ll never be in a work meeting together; you don’t seem to be qualified for anything than making an idiot out of yourself in a magazine. And I’m certainly not gonna have kids with you -. and nor should anyone else, if that’s your idea of parenting.
I don’t owe you an apology when I don’t move out of your way on the sidewalk, disagree with something you just said in front of people, ask you to simply do your job, or even apologize too much.
See… you don’t have to apologize for me being an internet shitlord plucking your insane ramblings apart. As stated earlier: Nobody in this world ask for such an apology. My readers usually enjoy that kind of writing.
As for the sidewalk thing – I consider that rude. Now you’re stupid and rude.
I don’t owe you my laughter so you can still feel like “one of the good guys” after telling that hacky, sexist joke because “fuck political correctness” or whatever other Roganesque mantra you need to recite every morning to feel like you’ve earned that dick.
Penis-envy? Yeap, most definitely penis-envy.
I don’t owe you my presence as the token “female” in your conspicuously all-male shows or panels, so you’re hailed as a woke ally when all you’re handing out is self-aggrandizing charity rather justice.
So… if I invited you to an all-female panel of the most obnoxios bitches on the internet, you would come? Plus, it’s “rather [than] justice”
I don’t owe you my friendship after you refused to call out those who called me a “cunt,” “whore,” or “bitch” because you didn’t want to “start something.”
That would be rather hypoctitical, as I just called you a bitch myself, wouldn’t it? Plus: Why would I want to be friends with a stupid, rude bitch?
I don’t owe you my support for your work, goals, and dreams when you dismissed mine as “fun hobbies” and “cute projects” till the baby comes.
Au countraire, madame. You are one of those people that makes this “cute” blog project of mine possible. So – you certainly don’t “owe” me that, and neither am I grateful for you supporting me unasked. Still… that seems rather masochistic. We’ll add that to your character assessment.
I don’t owe you my patience when you’re correcting me about something you know nothing about, but I do — your opinion is not automatically upgraded to “expert” simply because men are “logical” and women, “emotional.”
Well, for an unpaid shitlord, my grammar sure is more expert than yours or that of the editor at that publication of yours, it seems. But of course, that’s not because men are logical and women emotional, that’s because I can actually write texts (even such with meaning), whereas you…
I don’t owe you a thank you when you try to compliment me by saying, “You’re not like other girls” when I say I like the industrial-sports complex, watered-down American beer brewed in Canada, or sex.
Sex? Well, I could imagine you might be able to give a nice blowjob for a tenner. But of course, me telling you that requires no “thank you”. You would already have that tenner, you know?
I don’t owe you a response when you text, DM, or air drop me unsolicited sexually explicit limericks, eggplant emojis, or dick pics, and especially not on my birthday!
I am actually considering (lierally) air-dropping (literally) half a ton of dick-pics in that woman’s front yard – just to prove she totally would respond to that. If you’d crowdfund that as a reader, let me know.
I don’t owe you my attention when you catcall, whistle, or gesture obscenely at me on the street to show off your flaccid idea of manhood to your bros.
My idea of manhood doesn’t involve the appreciation of stupid, rude, masochistic, self-aggrandizing bitches. Nor does that of my “bros”.
I don’t owe you diets, exercise, makeup, long hair, or plastic surgery for you to display me to the public like an elephant that you shot down with your big gun and mounted on your wall of compensating-for-something.
On the plus side, with men less choosy than me, your list might just help them overcome your horrible character. But cats do need love, too.
I don’t owe you my time in exchange for money, jewelry, drinks at a bar, or picking up the dinner check, no matter the amount.
So… that’s a “no” to the tenner then? Well – your loss.
I don’t owe you a bra so you can’t see my nipples through my shirt or a blanket when breastfeeding simply because you’re incapable of seeing women’s body parts as serving no function other than to service your PornHub-derivative sexual desires.
Also, wearing a bra or using a blanket when breastfeeding makes it a lot harder fo fulfil my PornHub-derivative sexual desires. I totally don’t see your point here.
I don’t owe you explanations of feminism, misogyny, or systemic sexism for you to segue into men-lose-most-child-custody-cases and what-about-the-military-draft Petersonian counterarguments.
I already know feminism is cancer, no further explanation needed. And you’ll be happy to hear that I am in full suport of the prison-industrial complex greatly served by men losing custody cases; single mothers produce way-above average criminal offspring.
I don’t owe you my sympathetic shoulder whenever you cry “Not all men!” (thereby unknowingly admitting that “Yes, me!”) when women publicly share their #metoo experiences, from sexual misconduct to rape.
Wow – that’s a vivid example of the female rationalization hamster running amok. Listen, girl: Just because most protagonists of the #metoo movement turned out to be complete liars, that doesn’t mean all women are false accusers. You are but one human being (more or less), you can only speak for yourself- and not read thoughts. But I’ll happily add “false accuser” to your character assessment; you seem to be totally okay with unfounded allegations.
I don’t owe you answers as to why “women didn’t report before” so you can hang onto the tit of your Louis CKian pseudo-heroes as you respond to Facebook posts with, “But, you have to separate the art from the artist.”
I… don’t have any heores, especially none that are named “CK”. And when I want to get censored, I go to 4chan, not facebook.
I don’t owe you my sexual assault story to prove to you that women have legitimate justifications that have been proven again(Anita), again(Christine), and again(me) to distrust, fear, and avoid men, even you.
I’m also not interested in that story; I don’t like you enough to be interested in you. And I’m sympathetic because sexual abuse gave you a mental disorder, but that doesn’t make your weird world view true.
I don’t owe you anonymity when you spread sexual rumors about me (to heighten your status as a “real man” and diminish mine to a “slut”) and then I expose your lies on social media for all your peers to see — sue me.
See…. that’s why I’m even more sympathetic to the men’s rights movement: stupid, rude, masochistic, self-aggrandizing bitches with a inclination for false accusations can freely say “sue me” – because the western law system doesn’t adequately punish those people.
I don’t owe you a public defense on a comedy podcast against multiple sexual misconduct accusations because, even though you abused her, her, and her, you never abused me.
I think I have lost you: I don’t think sexual misconduct is particualrly funny. Nor are false allegations.
I don’t owe you my body simply because I’m drunk, wearing sexy clothes, have given it to you before, or am married to you (and I can change my mind in a second, and even halfway through, if I want to).
Now we’re totally missing that point of “adult conversations”. I offered you ten bucks, you said “no”, so – that’s it. Why do you keep bringing that up? You really crave those air-dropped dick pics, do you?
I don’t owe you my forgiveness when you apologize with crocodile tears, promising you will never do that to me again.
I try not to do things I later need to apologize for. If I need to, my apologies are sincere. But of course, noboby is in any way coerced to accept them. There’s like seven billion people on the planet – you’ll find someone else to talk to.
I don’t owe you a compromise when we disagree about my inherent right to autonomy over my body, from the length of my hair to the fetus in my womb.
Oh – if you’re eight months pregnant, I understand your rather harsh decline of my generous offer. You could make a lot more; there’s plenty of weird people out there. But in that case, I wouldn’t have made that offer. I’m not a pervert, after all.
And please, feel free to kill your babies. I also totally support women’s right to choose until their offspring is 30-ish.
I don’t owe you my respect when you remain friends or even maintain contact with men (and women) who do the sexist, inhumane things listed above.
Now I am inhumane, says the stupid, rude, masochistic, self-aggrandizing, mentally ill bitch with a inclination for false accusations.
That’s… well, not exactly the peer group whose opinion I tend to give a shit about.
Lastly, I don’t owe you an education on how to treat women as human beings simply because I’m a woman — actually, you owe it to me.
No, I don’t owe you anthing. We did make that clear reciprocally – in either ones’ first line. I especially don’t owe you fulfilling your weird ideas about how you should be treated because of the grievances in your life, most notably, not having a dick.
But, as I consider myself a nice person, I’ll, just this once, treat you like every other human being and ignore the fact you are female:
You are an asshole, Christina Ouch.