I am what they call a loud woman. I doubt I’d have an epithet at all, if I wasn’t a female. I’ve always wanted to have my way. My way or the highway. That hasn’t worked out so well in the past. I’ve lost more friends than I have today. But the baffling thing is – I’ve always been the one who had to break it off. Because I finally realized I was just being used.
It’s one thing to be loud about the rights of others, and another thing entirely to be able to walk over the needs of others to get what I want. I take others into account first, then it’s my turn. This is probably the thing that makes me loud. I will stand for our rights, I will be strong and vigilant for us. I can’t do the same for myself. Maybe I still don’t feel I deserve it. I have empathy for everyone but myself.
I get angry easily. No, I mean, easily. I get angry because someone decides they can take advantage of all the submissive men out there in need of someone to understand them. I get angry when people don’t recognize bias and illogical and unrealistic gender stereotypes they harbour and try to subjucate others with their misconceptions. I get angry when people demand my help but won’t do anything themselves. Just want me to save the day. Again. And again. And again. Because I will. Because I care more than them.
So, I am loud. I will not stand still if someone is attacked, like my friend K was in a tram, at 11 o’clock one sunny day. A man came from nowhere and hit her. I stood up, went to him and started to yell at him. All the people around us where silent, looking out the windows, at their feet. There were big men sitting there. Men with gym bags and trainers and healthy muscles. But I was the one who was standing in front of him yelling that it isn’t your right to be violent to anyone. You can’t hit a human being. I would’ve hit the man in return if the driver didn’t have nerves of steel and a better judgment. The man was gone before I knew it.
I was left there my hands shivering, my body filled with adrenaline and a deep feeling of disappointment and neglect. It’s never safe to be a small woman like we both are. It’s never safe to be me. I am loud because I had to learn to be. Because I wouldn’t just take it. My friend didn’t even realize what happened before the day after. She couldn’t handle it. But I did, for her. If it would’ve been me, I would’ve stood there alone with no one to turn to.
I am submissive. But I don’t take shit that has nothing to do with me and all to do with being entitled, bigger, uglier and the norm. Who do you think the people in the tram thought was being unreasonable, violent and loud? I could see it in their turned away eyes. I could hear it in the silence. I am a girl – and that makes me too loud.