Every single day, women are surviving things that many refuse to name.Small things. Quiet things. Daily things. Deadly things.And somehow, we’re still
Every single day, women are surviving things that many refuse to name.
Small things. Quiet things. Daily things. Deadly things.
And somehow, we’re still told that we are exaggerating.
Meanwhile, Men:
“Men are the most persecuted human beings on earth.”
We hear it.
But first, here’s what women are surviving while being told to “calm down” and “be nice”:
Walking to our cars—keys between our fingers like weapons.
Sitting through meetings with the man who violated us—because HR said it’s fine.
Caring for children after being left by someone who promised partnership.
Faking smiles after being harassed on the way to work.
Turning down advances and praying it won’t cost us our safety—or our job.
Being filmed, followed, stalked—and still told “it’s not that serious.”
Being called liars for naming what happened.
Keeping the peace in homes we secretly want to flee.
Being called “bad moms” for protecting our kids from abusive men.
Checking the backseat of the car. Again. Just in case.
Staying silent because “it’s your word against his.”
Knowing he won’t face consequences because “he’s a good guy to everyone else.”
Wearing headphones just to avoid another forced conversation.
Keeping our daughters close in public bathrooms.
Being attacked for rejecting someone politely.
Being told to “move on” from what still wakes us up in the middle of the night.
Surviving entire systems built to protect him—not us.
This is not paranoia. This is practice.
This is what survival looks like when the world keeps trying to forget.
And when we speak up?
They call us bitter. Hateful. Delusional.
Or say:
“But men have it hard too. We’re the real victims now. We are the most persecuted.”
Affirmed:
👉🏽 We are not in competition.
👉🏽 But we will not be erased.
👉🏽 We are not hysterical. We are historians.
Living, breathing archives of survival.
If you’re more outraged by our truths than the conditions we describe,
maybe it’s not us who forgot something.
