A year ago I pitched the idea of Let’s Talk?, a column about women’s issues, to our managing editor, Greg Pratt. For some reason (which I’m sure he frequently regrets), he graciously allowed me the space to fight for equality.
What I had originally intended to be a hard-hitting column about the injustices women face on a daily basis has taken more than one detour—from my love of pumpkin spice lattes to ruminations on fuckboys back to rants about cookie-making, with a quick aside to discuss big-girl panties—but at the heart of it, I try (and, hopefully, at least sometimes, succeed) to shed light on the struggles (no matter how trivial they may seem) I face as a woman in 2019.
I wrote my first column on International Women’s Day. I wrote about my frustration over the absurdity that we needed a day to celebrate women and how fucking amazing and strong we are. Because, if I’m being brutally honest, at the time I didn’t really get it—I am surrounded by seemingly strong women who take zero shit.
I didn’t feel like we needed a day to prove how awesome we are because we are freaking awesome 365 days a year.
A year later, after fumbling though countless interviews with astonishing women from all walks of life, I am humbled enough to say that I am beginning to understand.
We are celebrating because it’s not just about being a badass. The reality is that Women’s Day isn’t just about celebrating how awesome women are; it’s about supporting those who are marginalized—the ones who have it way harder than me, the cis white female.
Am I marginalized because I have a vagina? Sure. Am I more privileged than many? Absofuckinglutely. This realization is overwhelming, but that doesn’t mean I get to put my head in the sand and shy away from it.
So, when I celebrate Women’s Day, I’m not just celebrating the “Rah-Rah, I am woman, hear me roar.” I am celebrating every woman: the ones who aren’t white, the ones who aren’t cis, the ones who have been cat-called far worse than I, the ones who have been outcast, the ones who think they should be doing more despite doing more than enough, the ones who are badass, the ones who want to be, the ones who need a movement like Women’s Day, and the ones who don’t. I am celebrating all of us.
After 18 cycles of panicking over what I will say in my next column, I feel like I’m beginning to understand the simple root of all of this: being a woman is hard. For some more than others. But for the sake of this crazy sisterhood, we need to come together and support each other.
So, happy Women’s Day, all my lovely ladies. We got this.