To boys from girls
A letter to the teenage boys I have to put up with. Xoxo

You can’t ignore my orders just because my voice is higher than yours, you can’t mock me when I ‘giggle’, you can’t interrupt me because I wear a skirt.
Just because I’m a girl, does not mean you can disrespect me.
And when I earn that coveted title of woman, I will be treated like the queen I have waited so long to become.
I’ve been told to go easy on you, to teach you gently, to hold your hand when I say this.
And all I am left with is why?
Why is it that you hate any trace of us in yourselves?
Why do you get to call us immature when you’re older than us, and still using racism as a sense of humour?
Why do you get to wear that immaturity like a badge of honour?
Why do we have to sympathise to every problem you dump on us, and expect nothing but some non-committal monosyllables in return, when we need advice, or help, or just someone to talk to?
Why are you allowed to cut us off, but we have to fix you. Why do we have to be the ones to fix you?
Why the hell can’t I hold you to a standard?
You want me to fit so many conditions, every single detail is put into consideration, but how very dare I have a non-negotiable expectation, despite all I’ve let slide about you?
How dare you call precious women inferior because they look ten years younger, rather than the twenty the world has taught you to prefer.
And I know it’s not your fault. But if you’d just listen to us. Just wake up. It’s hard to let go of a system you benefit from, I’m sure, but if you’d love women like you claim to, how hard could it be?
Unless there’s something that takes priority. Do you really value control so much?
I’m sorry my simple existence made you feel so small, my bad, do you want to trample me to get over it?
You hate what you perceive as femininity, and that has royally screwed you over.
I feel sorry for you, if I’m honest, stuck there, unable to express anything, ridicule being your worst fear.
I would love to tell you that you’ve made your bed, so lie in it.
And even though you don’t, I want to forgive you. Just make it a bit easier, please
