I’m a woman, and I am angry.
I am angry that I have to do more,
I am angry that I have to do more to be seen as an equal among men.
I am angry that I have to learn more, that I have to learn to defend myself because I am small and short and “weak.”
I am angry that I have to pay more for “luxury items” like tampons while condoms get passed out for free.
I am angry that I have to work more, work longer hours, work harder, to get the same pay as a man.
I am angry that I have to take more. I have to take catcalling and harassment from people I don’t even know.
I am not angry. I am furious.
I am furious that it is even worse for women of color.
I am furious that it is worse for people outside the United States.
I am furious that it is worse for lesbians and trans women.
I am furious that we are seen as inferior for something as simple as a body part.
But Fury is what starts the fire.
Fury is what rebellions are made of.
Fury is what starts the conversation.
Fury is Seneca Falls, Selma, Stonewall
Fury is what sets equality into motion.
Because when I think of it, I cannot understand why we weren’t equal in the first place.
The only thing that differs between us all is the color of our skin, the languages we speak, and what we believe in.
Biologically, we are the same.
So why do we feel so different?
We are all human.
I’m a human, and I am angry.