Remind me to read more female literature. Novels with strong female protagonists. Essays about feminism. Biographies about strong women.
But also remind me to watch movies where the women are nothing but caricatures. Not real breathing people. Remind me to watch films where the women are only girlfriends, bodies, sex. Remind me this is how we are seen.
Remind me to notice the prudes and the sluts. Compare them side by side. Notice what makes them different. Remind me I am both a prude and a slut.
Remind me to expand my vocabulary. To look up words in the dictionary. Remind me to buy a dictionary. Remind me to use the right words. The right phrasing and knowledge and language that will allow me to participate in the conversation.
The conversation about my gender. The conversation about the experience of being a woman. Remind me I have something to say.
But also remind me that other women have something to say. Women who aren’t given the time or space to say. What they need to say. Remind me to hear them. Remind me I am them and I am not them. At the same time.
Remind me not to feel trapped in my body. Remind me that I am not my body. I am more than my body. Remind me to respect my body.
Remind me I do not need to be likable. Remind me I do not need to smile more. Remind me that I don’t want you to sit next to me, or I don’t want your drink. Remind me to be honest. Not mean. Sometimes mean. Remind me to be a bitch. A cunt. A twat. A tease.
Remind me that I don’t have to hate men. Remind me of my jealousy. Remind me of my envy. The envy to make mistakes I can’t make. Remind me I am the brother of the prodigal son.
Remind me that my rage is understandable. Remind me that I’m not crazy. Remind me that it is 2018. Remind me again. It is 2018.
Remind me that I am not an imposter. That I do not need a degree in women’s studies. Remind me that all I need is myself. And her. And him. And them. And us.
Remind me we can be better. Together.
Please remind me.