Think of the humans you turn to when sad, when afraid, when happy, when angry. The ones who listen to you vent and love you anyway. The ones you most relate to because of shared pain and injustice, shared love and laughter. If you’re a woman, your circle is likely female.
In the year I was born, only 40% of undergraduates in America were female.1 Today, 60% of undergraduate degrees are earned by females. In my organic chemistry courses, almost 70% are female. Future doctors and scientists. This is so commonplace today that we take it for granted, but every right women currently have was fought for by our mothers and their mothers. It was not bestowed on us. It was demanded.
There’s a funny Mary Poppins song that goes, “Though we adore men individually…” and “Our daughter’s daughters will adore us, and they’ll sing in grateful chorus…” and “Womankind, arise!”
Women fought for the right to vote, to own property, to go to school, to divorce, to run for office, for birth control, to be Secretary of State and Vice President and serve on the Supreme Court… We’ve made so much progress but still, we are underpaid. Still, men strive to control us. What are men afraid of? Do they think if(when) we take over, we’ll mistreat them as we have been mistreated for hundreds of years?
Do they fear revenge?
That’s it. That must be it.
But is it?
Men do not understand women any more than we understand them. Their drives and our motivators don’t line up. Yet they think if they don’t hold us at bay, we’ll take all their imagined power. (I didn’t intend this post to take me down this path, but such is the nature of the writing process–the path always meanders.) Such supposing about what ifs led me down a winding path to write a dystopian novel a decade ago. The story began from fear. Shootings in schools and on college campuses were becoming more common until one day my daughter hid for hours on campus while police hunted down a shooter who’d killed a cop. That day, the future came for me. What could not touch my heart came too close. From that fear a story grew where females found a way to protect not only each other, but also saved the world from destruction by men, by taking over.
It’s just a story. Just fiction. But a story from the opposite perspective from Margaret Atwood’s THE HANDMAID’S TALE. Instead of women held down, men are taken to their knees, subdued, and controlled in every conceivable way. Take a look at my book, INFINITY LINE, for a horrific tale of single-gender control in a future that’s exclusively female. It’ll remind you how much you individually love your husband, brother, father, and friends. And maybe it can shake up some men to a perspective that females have incessantly fought against for our entire lives and would never wish on anyone.