Dear Man

Buckle up because this is about Hamster Wheels, Blow Jobs, and the patriarchy

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

Dear man,

If you are reading this, most likely someone has sent it to you. Please read it. I wrote it for you, unsure of how it was ever going to get into your hands.

I wrote this because I can’t talk to you about it; it’s never the right place or the right moment. Maybe it’s because we don’t know each other, and maybe we never will. Please don’t use that as an excuse to dismiss this; I have written it for you.

I am also going to ask you, please, try not to interrupt me while reading this. Don’t mutter, “I don’t need to read this shite,” or argue with me in your head. You know I can’t hear you, and you know you won’t convince me I’m wrong. So please, humour me. Humour the person who sent this to you. Just read.

I promise you that this is mostly aiming to be a permission slip, a gift. You might not like me in all of the paragraphs, in some of them you will think I am dick, I can take it. By the end of it we will hopefully both admit that all this is nu…