Monday, October 16, 2017

There Are Things That Never Fade

This is a revised re-post of a blog entry originally written in June 2016.

Trigger warnings for sexual assault.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

The Patriarchal Call is Coming From Inside The House

*A version of this was posted on Facebook in late April.

I've been thinking, lately, about cis men's acceptance into — and often domination of — feminine-coded spaces. Mainly because I have this clawing, gut-wrenching resentment of it that's been building over the past few years. It's like acid reflux but less pleasant. I tried to flip it around. To interrogate it from a different perspective. "Suleikha, if someone was this resentful of your inclusion in an exclusively white space, what would you say?" But you know what...? That's not the same thing. Because in NO WAY would I be allowed to gain the kind of power and notoriety that men acquire amongst women's groups. I would not be ceded the floor at every opportunity. My word would not be treated as gospel. You can be the token minority, but you can never lead the pack. That is not the case when you're a dude surrounded by women.
Is there an element of misandry in what I'm feeling? Probably. I'm self-aware enough to acknowledge that. But I also know that it's a particular type of man who inspires this roiling in my gut. There are plenty of guys I don't mind having around when I'm with women friends or with fellow industry professionals. The ones that rankle are the sea lions, the mansplainers, the guys who have to jump up and down and go, "Look at me!" so that every eye in the room is now on them. Because it's disingenuous. It's disrespectful. It's claiming a space as yours, marking your territory and turning a collaborative space into your harem.

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Spoiler Alert: Someone Dies in This Movie

One of my biggest cinematic pet peeves is when a film is advertised as a romance and you've invested your heart and soul in a beautiful love story...and then half the pairing kicks the bucket. Pushes up daisies. Shuffles off the mortal coil. THEY DIE. Because it's somehow noble and artsy and the partner left behind can cherish that experience and move forward and live a full life with skydiving and Pulitzers and shit.

How is that romantic? Heartbreak is terrible. If I wanted heartbreak, I'd just stay in my own life, not fork over dough to escape into someone else's!