The machismo that exists in all of us women – 06/04/2023 – The Worst of the Week

Laila, who defines herself as a progressive and feminist, writes to tell me that she often struggles against her structural machismo and asks if she will ever be able to get rid of such thoughts. I thought it was fantastic to be able to talk about the machismo that exists in all of us women.

I’ve already given up on being a person without any backward thinking and ignorant. I studied in a Catholic school and was raised very close to a multitude of “beloved” men who, in reality, were toxic to their partners, mothers and daughters.

Therefore, of course, an obscure part of my mind pops prejudices, conservative conceptions or even the idea that some abuses are not exactly abuses and should remain normalized (as they were one or two decades ago).

Until then, my mind also tells me “you have five seconds to live” when I realize that I’ve taken a bite of bread that has expired, the thing is to know what’s left of us in the midst of this tangle of phrases by terrible authors and unknowns that is our neural network. Who are all these who think of me?

My hope is that my machismo dies before it even travels on the electrical tail of a synapse. I keep feeding my shame on my face with good books

But yes, unfortunately I am sexist infinite times a day.

For example, the first thing I think of when I see a sexually free woman, dressed in a “I want you now” kind of way, hitting on people, is: “BITCH”. It’s okay that this woman is myself, and I’m looking at myself in the elevator mirror, going somewhere to party. But about 20% of my brain is taken up by little men screaming “BITCH, BITCH!” Not that, because of that, I stop being happy in my rolês.

I never carry a heavy bag or rucksack if I have a man with me and he is not weighed down.

Whenever I see a very sweet, very nice young woman, very “easy to deal with”, I think at the time: she will open her mouth and those ideas and intonations of “silly, young woman to marry” will come. Gosh, leave the sona, right? This thing about me being angry at cute women for so many years must be a pretty shitty form of sexism.

I’ve already had a 9.5 score from a man who splits a restaurant bill on the first date. Today, I have a score of 1.2. But still goat. Why? I have no idea. I don’t even want them to pay the bill. Creed! Don’t pay me anything. Never. But WHAT A BODE when they split the account on date. What a goat of a man who doesn’t protect me from rain, cold, perrengues and haters.

One time I was being teased by people at work and I talked to three lawyers. A very intelligent woman assured me that I should just forget about that story. A brilliant man explained to me everything that would happen if we went this way or that way. And a pissed-off young man who banged his fist on the table and said: that’s not something you can do with a woman like you! At the time I saw him dressed as a superhero. He would save me from all the malice, envy, and stale bread in the world.

Wanting a man to defend you, to save you. This is to be what? Being sexist as fuck. I spent a fortune on the lawyer just because my dad never defended me like that. No man has ever stood up for me like this. Not even this lawyer.

I’ve improved too much. Fifteen years ago, I still believed that the relationship between women, at work, was in fact more difficult. I really thought that I should “behave well” in order to get good partners (I never behaved well, but I blamed myself when things went wrong rather than sexism).

In my youth, I think I saw shaves in traffic and looked to confirm if it was a woman the age I am today. At the age of thirty, I must have already seen a woman with the body I have today and thought: “she got embarrassed after motherhood.”

I’ve blamed hormones for ridding the bar of lousy boyfriends. I used to get sick of being menstruated. I believed my whole life that the responsibility for not getting pregnant was mine.

These days, I told my boyfriend to find out why the fridge was making a strange noise. “That’s a man thing.” We laugh at my cheap imitation of an ancient woman, at my ironic comment. Only I was serious.

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Tati Bernardi answers the most unusual questions and strangest comments from her readers. Do you want to participate in the O Pior da Semana column? Send your message to [email protected]

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