Waiting, An Ode to Men

I'm sorry it can take a while to dress-push up my breasts in wired cages, zip away my belly and cinch my waist, contort my feet to elongate my legs. You see, my clothes are not designed with comfort in mind. They are designed for your pleasure, not mine.     

I'm sorry I'm not done yet. The makeup takes a while too. If I wear too much, I'm trying too hard. Too little? I'm not trying enough. So I must put just the right amount on that looks natural-but not actually natural because my natural face looks sick and tired-so more of an illusive unnatural natural. Sound complicated? It's really not. It just takes a while to cover up dark circles, hide zits, erase pores, even my skin tone, chisel my face. Once I remove those signs of being human, then I'll achieve that natural look you find so flattering.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I have to over-apologize, as if the purpose of my existence is to please you. See, over time I've learned this to be true. 

When you interrupted me with such self-assurance just to compliment my eyes, I learned that your flattery is more important than what I have to say. When you asked for my number and called me a bitch when I refused to give it, I learned that you are entitled to my compliance and I am not allowed to say no. When I shied away from your advances so you gave me the middle finger, I learned that my body is meant for your disposal. When I heard that women who choose not to become mothers are selfish, I learned that my role is to bear children for you. When you followed me persistently despite my numerous attempts to escape you, I learned that your desires take precedence over my comfort and safety. 

So here I am apologizing, failing to please you because I'm taking too long trying to please you.  

I'm sorry, I know what it's like to wait. See, I've been waiting too. I've been waiting for what I say or do to mean more than what I wear or look like. I've been waiting for you to stop shaming my body, claiming my body, or having any say over my body. I've been waiting for the work I do to be valued as much as the work you do, and paid as much too. I've been waiting for you to validate my emotions instead of dismissing them as "hormonal" or "crazy"-just because you've shut yours out doesn't give you the right to shut mine out too. I've been waiting for you to stop feeling emasculated when I intimidate you with my power. I've been waiting for you to fucking understand feminism already. I've been waiting for you to speak up about my waiting. This whole time, I've been waiting on you.

So please explain, What is taking so long? You're taking forever. I've been waiting on you my whole damn life, so I think you can wait just a little while longer.