Erasure of identities, through the feminist lens

Since time immemorial, the question of how to define the identities of women have always been one of the favorite subjects of the male sex. I call it the,

Obsession Of Penises To Write Off Their Definition Of What It Feels Like To Be A Vagina.

Well, the desire has been so intense that it was not even considered worth enough to give women an identity of their own. She is stripped of her rights, her choices. Her existence is nought. Her voice is neither reactionary nor a wailing cry on account of being wronged. The only space she is allowed to have is a ‘space of silence’, a space of always ‘being defined’. 

Let me turn to the pages of history and make a wholesome context for you’all. It is not very long before stories have been started written from the female perspective. I mean, if you assume that a powerful king would give doles out of charity to the poorer sections, then I am afraid my dear you are living in some kind of a dream that has seriously impaired your brain functionality to think. Similarly, what more could you have expected from the superior male sex than flattery for their own magnanimous adventures. It is certainly out of question to even assume that the inferior sex would be allowed to speak, let alone put out her own perspectives. Who would be interested in reading it anyway, when women have not been allowed to read until quite recently and men used to live in their bubble proclaiming out loud with a smirk, ‘inferior sex produces inferior literature.’

No, it is not a very long way back. I find a countless number of my womankind even today, afraid to speak up their desires on account of being called foolish or too sentimental for anything that transports to reality. Still, they would prefer an anonymous identity or rather a male pseudonym like the famous 'Brontë Sisters' in the earl-ll-y nineteenth-hh century. Ah, the same, a woman says it because a man writes it. 

It is certainly foolish of women to be ashamed of themselves. They would do what they please but where would you go, running away from yourself? So, Ladies, here’s the thing,

Next time, someone decides to erase your identity by stripping off your right to know, you consider it as a matter of serious disrespect.  

Next time, men consider to barter your identity with their male camaraderie, reduce you to a mere flesh of meat they could play with on their own convenience, exclude you before they act on it, you tell them, it is not just a matter of sexism anymore, but a matter of degrading your very human soul. 

You tell it out loud, proud and stoically: 

Whether you are okay with yourself or not, 

I DESERVE RESPECT BEFORE LOVING YOU OR BEING LOVED. PERIOD.