Dear patriarchy… (Wait, is that a term of endearment that’s too emasculating for you? Oh well.)

I did what you told me to do, patriarchy. I got married and had a child. Nevermind – the marriage was a toilet fire of elephantine proportions (no shade to elephants). So, here I am showing up in this world as a solo parent. Of course, it’s not the way you wanted it to be, right? 

Also, I gave birth to a biracial child. (I’ll wait here while you finish raging about race mixing). Okay, now that you got all those eugenics theories out of your system, can we just pause for a second to celebrate the fact that I had a human being cut out of my body? You say women are the weaker sex, so I am curious about your experiences growing human beings inside your own body. What’s that, you say? “Your body, your choice?” Intriguing; I’m glad we can agree on something.

Now that I’m a single woman who has had a child, why am I suddenly the downfall of the very fabric of society? Am I bringing shame at your feet for being unmarried? Your archaic institution didn’t work out for me. Somehow, I think you know that in most cases it doesn’t. And when it does, they’re all cucks and simps and beta males. Wouldn’t want to catch feelings and (gasp!) feel love for another human being now would we? The indignity of it all.

Patriarchy, what does it do for you to have created this seemingly complex yet wholly basic system? Maybe I should ask this instead: what are you afraid of?

I know you’re ultimately afraid, patriarchy. You are afraid of women and what they can do. Plus, I’m Black, so no amount of science-based racism can dispel the fact that I am overcoming every barrier you’ve put in my way. I earn my own money and my child has a stable home where I teach them loads of subversive things like equality and solar energy.

I work too, patriarchy. I know you love to come out swinging with that old excuse. The breadwinner; the head of the household. I’ve heard it all before. I sometimes wonder how you would survive if left to your own devices. There’s only so much meat and beer to go around. Oh, I just remembered that sustainability isn’t your jam. My bad.

You could never do what mothers do, patriarchy. Sure, you work. You go to meetings. You have people fetch you coffee. You steal ideas from your lowest-paid workers then blame them for inflation (that is literally priceless). You send emails about “make work” projects and drive the economy into the ground with your abysmal ability to make decisions. Then, when your day is done, you expect a reward of indentured servitude.

When my day begins, there’s no fanfare. I have the school run down to an exact science. I then move mountains during the day because I don’t have access to child-care. Then, after school, I use my culinary genius to create delicious meals cooked with love.

For the record, patriarchy, you and capitalism need to simmer TF down on food prices. I know you need to eat too but this is ridiculous. Because I know how to cook, I only buy what I need. You won’t get much profit out of me.

Then after a blur of bedtime bubbles, stories and snuggles good night, I too would love for my 16+ hour day to be rewarded with indentured servitude. But in those quiet moments after the little human has gone to sleep, I often wonder who will take care of me? Patriarchy, I know it won’t be you because I’m supposed to take care of you and uphold everything you stand for. Not today, patriarchy. That goes for you too, kyriarchy.

I’m not saying that what I do is easy; it’s beyond hard. I’m on my own perpetually looking for community, and I’m grateful, patriarchy, for learning the difference between support and help. Support is just words. Help, on the other hand, is money, which you continually make harder for me to get. Help is time. 

Parents need help. They need to be seen and have their stories told. I know you know that motherhood is killing us, yet you expect us to raise children and do all the things so you can do…what, exactly? Golf? Bomb something? Abstain from self-pleasure?

I do what I do because I chose this path. I wanted a family of my own. Somehow it turned out exactly as I thought it would. Though, maybe I underestimated how much I’d have to finagle a life out of practically nothing. I look at my child and think to myself “Self, I get to see the world through their eyes. I get to teach them how to feel and express emotion. I get to encourage them to speak up, take up space and use their voice.”

Patriarchy, you’ve done your best to keep us down. It’s getting harder every day, isn’t it? More people are choosing not to have kids. Somehow this deeply bothers you but we’re past caring about you and what you think is right. After all, you can’t even tolerate a low-level menstrual cramp. Oops – I forgot you don’t actually know what menstruation is.

You need to know, patriarchy, that your way of being is crumbling. Scores of people just aren’t participating in your system anymore. Personally, you can have it. Hold onto the remaining scraps of the fabric of society. You’ll need something to clean up after yourself because no one will be around to do it for you. 

Also, save yourself a scrap to wash your legs. DEFY