Enough with the Cape

Lately, I’ve seen a lot of fake women empowerment advertisements.  You know, the woman is wearing a superhero cape or something stupid like that, and that’s supposed to make all women feel good because I guess in the past we still had to do the same shit but couldn’t wear capes. 

Here’s the problem with that: WE CAN’T DO EVERYTHING.  And, for God’s sake, it’s a fool’s errand to try to do it all in superhero fashion.  I hate to tell you this, but it doesn’t help to wear a fucking cape if you have a job below your capability, you’re primarily responsible for the care of the children and daily household chores, or people disparage your run for Presidency because you happen to have a vajingle.  In fact, it’s offensive.

Now, you may be like, “Whoa, lady, sounds like you want me to put on a pantsuit and be a man.  No thanks, I’ll keep my cape, my tiara, my Wonder Woman outfit, plus all of my Spanx, because I’m gonna look good in all of them.”  Well, that’s not what I’m saying.  But I just had a conversation with my boyfriend where he was perplexed about why one of his guy friends was taking six weeks paternity leave. 

“Why does he need paternity leave?” he asked.  “He didn’t have a baby.”  So I explained that perhaps he wanted to bond with his baby and support his wife. 

“I’d be climbing up the walls if I was home for six weeks,” he said, looking at me as though I was, at that moment, prepping my womb for his children and planning six, no eight weeks of forced paternity leave for him. Incorrect.  But I did explain to him that paternity leave for men should be expected because, otherwise, we set up - purposely or accidentally - a system in which the woman is primarily responsible for the work of raising children and catering to her partner.  I mean, consider this: you’re a woman.  You have baby Slade on Thursday.  Your husband/partner stays home Friday and the weekend, and then on Monday is like, “See ya!” and heads off to work, because….man.  Meanwhile, baby Slade is biting your nipples with invisible razors, pooping and peeing at the same time, crying for no reason, and sleeping so abruptly that you keep holding a mirror in front of his face to ensure his continued breathing.  Husband breezes in after work, and expects a meal, or cooks something rudimentary because if he cooked a balanced meal, that would be bananas.  And then he bitches about getting the baby when he cries at night because, “I have to work in the morning.”  No, that’s ridiculous.  In six weeks, while you heal your sore babymaking parts, your partner should be doing the work of the family.  But, instead, you do it all, and you get a cape.  And this pattern continues as your kids grow.  You go back to work, but you also have to drop the kids off at daycare, do the grocery shopping, make all of the meals, do the housework, provide the emotional support for the family, and bear the criticism for “letting yourself go.”  BUT YOU GET A CAPE.

So, enough with the cape.  Enough with the expectation that we take it all on and smile as if it’s effortless.  Enough of accepting the work that somebody else could do.  It’s not even worth a really cool cape.