there is a way that men write about injustice. about how they themselves, or other men like them, have suffered. a way that is grand and sweeping and powerful, that thunders with the knowledge that justice will come, that the arc of history is bending in their favor. i used to try to emulate that style, that power. i used to want to be a part of it, believe in it–that righteousness. that right.
but men can write like that–like injustice is just a temporary state for them, that they will be back to the place they deserve someday–men can write like that because the place they deserve is Manhood. injustice towards men is the theft of manhood, justice for men is its restoration. and Manhood exists at its very core as a dominance over women.
women who write about injustice, the ones who do it truthfully and well, write with a grim sort of inevitability. the knowledge that justice for us is never truly served, that whatever gains we achieve, men will always make sure they have more. and i think that’s why so many women resist feminism, or at least true feminism, when we’re young. it is grim to realize that the arc of history isn’t bending towards your humanity–that it’s quite the opposite.