I hate the way women do not tell the whole truth
I’m sure that way will be fine she says
At least a man will blurt out what he thinks
Uncensored and harsh – critical but honest
I hate the way women pretend not to see each other
We avert our eyes – except secretly we evaluate
Her hair clothes shoes purse – at least men stare
Openly at my breasts then quickly away
I hate how women fight sneaky, subtle
She decides I am no longer her friend
But I do not even know we are fighting
Men will hit each other then get a beer
I hate the way women don’t help women succeed
The first woman reached the corner office turned
And said, you have to make it on your own
And for some reason we believed her
I hate that women must have innate knowledge
How to paint eyes and cheeks and nails
Or accessorize shoes and hats or maybe
I hate that most women know and I do not
I hate that women are able to manipulate
Men with their bodies – short skirts, high heels
I do not believe that men are this stupid
And yet these women are not alone
I hate that some women still walk a step behind
My sister works cooks cleans pays bills
Her husband works plays tennis calls the shots
How does this 1950s dysfunction still exist?
I hate how some women martyr themselves
By never leaving husband, children
Why can’t you go to a movie with me?
Are you scared of who you are alone?
I hate how some women will not share the light
Ask you questions to give you the answers
How do we get to know each other
If it’s all you and nothing of me?
I hate how women cannot praise themselves
It was nothing – no need to thank me
I am complicit – I crave recognition but
Shrug off the words that would lift me up
I hate how women who were once little girls
Do not remember their meanness, their cruel words
On playgrounds and at slumber parties and
Smile today as if nothing is wrong and never was
I hate how women are expected to do it all
Never complain that all is too much
Where is the time and the space and the silence?
Where is our room of one’s own, Virginia?
I hate that other women do not seem to need me
As much as I need them – their approval
Confirmation that I am one of them when
I feel so much more comfortable with the guys
I hate that women seem to be satisfied with less
Or is it just that women in my tiny little world
Are shallow unthinking average people
Do they have no greater ambition than this?
I hate that women in movies never wear glasses
Unless it’s before the big transformation
Take off her glasses and wow she’s attractive
Why wasn’t she beautiful before?
I hate that women do not share their secrets
Unlike Carrie Bradshaw and friends
No wonder we all fell in love with that show
It’s a myth, a dream, a female utopia
I hate that women must bleed every month
No beautiful burden but cruel trick of
Reproduction – messy and annoying
Requiring the purchase of too many panties
I hate that women are not physically strong
Groceries, my laptop, a painting just framed
I hope not to drop them, hate the looks
Hate that no one offers help, hate that I need it
I hate how women disappear after babies
I have barely seen Chris or Kim since #2
I only want an hour, a moment, in a coffee shop
I guess I’ll see you when the kids turn eighteen
I hate that married women think in couples
I am outcast from their dinners, parties
My single friends agree we are scarlet lettered
I am hurt and I miss my married friends
I hate that single women outnumber the men
In Chicago and east coast college towns
Go west for single men, mostly illegals
See a demographic dating problem here?
I hate that women are victims and targets
I cannot walk late at night alone or open
Doors to repairmen without pangs of what if
Over-attentive cab drivers make me nervous
I hate that women’s problems are ignored
I see no ads for our Viagra, no amazing cure
For our common sexual dysfunctions
Where are the research dollars and press?
I hate that women are so emotional, irrational
My judgment impaired, arguments invalidated
And yet on the page it may be my strength
So I cannot wish it gone completely
I hate that stereotypes of women do apply to me
I love chocolate and flowers and romantic comedies
Colin Firth’s Darcy and that James Blunt song
It’s so unimaginative – I want to be different
I hate that so few women know the truth of
Science fiction – not tribbles and tricorders
But dreams of idyllic futures where the planet
Is peaceful and all people are equal and free
I hate that women love shopping and clothes
Trailing in their wake in department stores
I say Oh that dress is blue and yes that’s pretty
And can we go look at stereos now?
I hate that women so often flirt and tease
This has always seemed dishonest to me
Let’s exchange resumes, ask direct questions
Save everyone time and money and heartbreak
I hate that women compete over men
Why must one of us win and one lose?
Have I just not met the one I would fight for?
Or is it that I want to be chosen by him?
I hate that I am able to find so many things
I hate about women – my sisters – my friends
Men are not perfect but it’s easier to forgive
Why do I hold women to a higher standard?