#equality paradox

Everybody wants equality.

Until it comes wearing boots.

And asks who is willing to bleed.

Let’s be honest.

This is not about all women.

Some women are honest. Some women understand cost. Some women would say, “If the burden exists, make it fair.”

Respect.

This is about the cowardly sector.

The slogan merchants. The benefit collectors. The professional responsibility dodgers.

The ones who want equality until equality stops looking like applause and starts looking like a government form.

Selective Service is the great little truth detector.

Because everybody loves equal access. Equal pay. Equal titles. Equal status. Equal seats at the table.

But the second someone says,

“Cool. Then register too.”

Suddenly the speeches get shorter.

Suddenly biology matters again.

Motherhood matters. Pregnancy matters. Strength matters. Children matter. Sex differences matter.

Amazing.

Five minutes ago, men and women were exactly the same.

Now Uncle Sam opens a clipboard and the whole philosophy starts limping.

Here comes the slitherer.

“But there isn’t even a draft.”

Shut up.

STFU with that horseshit.

Men still have to register.

That is the point.

So STFU.

And here comes the other escape hatch.

“Blame other men. Women did not make that system.”

Cute.

Now we are victim blaming eighteen year old boys for laws written before they were born.

Beautiful work.

Very compassionate.

Very progressive.

Very “men created the system” until an actual young man is standing there being told to put his name on the list.

Then suddenly he is responsible for every dead politician, every war room, every cigar chewing corpse that built the machine before he had chest hair.

And let us not pretend the protection part is imaginary.

The same men being mocked, dismissed, called disposable, told their burden does not count,

are still the bodies standing between civilization and the kind of invading force that would turn all those cute empowerment slogans and feminist groups into a live action Handmaid’s Tale, Extreme Edition.

That is not romance.

That is not patriarchy fan fiction.

That is history with blood on its boots.

The burden exists. The legal expectation exists. The civic threat exists.

A sleeping chain is still a chain.

Selective Service exposes the scam.

Not of women.

Of cowardice wearing empowerment lipstick.

And not just female cowardice either.

Some of the worst offenders are fathers.

The old pussy hounds.

The men who spent their youth running through women, ghosting them, lying to them, using them, then suddenly produced a little angel and discovered morality at the hospital bassinet.

Now his daughter is sacred.

Now his daughter is innocent.

Now his daughter knows nothing of the temptations, the games, the OnlyFans economy, the attention marketplace, or the same world he helped build one bad decision at a time.

Funny.

These men love honor until honor asks for his little girl’s John Hancock.

Then suddenly the warrior talk gets quiet.

Then suddenly the draft is barbaric.

Then suddenly the burden is cruel.

Not when it was somebody else’s son.

Only when the clipboard reaches his house.

Because equality is easy when it hands you dignity.

Equality is easy when it hands you access.

Equality is easy when it hands you power.

Equality is easy when it gets you into the boardroom, the academy, the scholarship office, the press conference, the promotion list.

But equality gets real quiet when it asks for your name on the same list as the men you mock.

That is when the boss babe mug starts shaking.

That is when the slogans sweat.

That is when “equal everything” suddenly becomes

“well actually, this is very complicated.”

No.

It was complicated the whole time.

You only noticed when the cost approached you.

And that is the ugly part.

A lot of women do not want equality.

They want selective elevation.

Equal when it benefits. Traditional when it protects. Modern when it pays. Ancient when it excuses.

They want the crown without the helmet.

The platform without the burden.

The rights without the draft card.

And then they call that justice.

No, sweetheart.

That is not equality.

That is a coupon book.

Either abolish Selective Service for everyone or make the obligation equal.

That is the clean argument.

But do not stand there screaming equal rights while pretending the one federal sex based civic burden placed on men does not count.

It counts.

It counts because the government says it counts.

It counts because men are required to sign.

It counts because consequences exist.

It counts because responsibility is still responsibility even before the machine turns on.

That is the final test.

Not who gets praised.

Who gets listed.

Not who gets hired.

Who gets called.

Not who gets a microphone.

Who gets a rifle when the state decides it needs bodies.

So yes.

Equality sounds beautiful when it is printed on a tote bag.

But when it arrives in uniform, carrying a clipboard, asking for names,

a whole lot of brave women suddenly remember they are delicate.

Funny.

Reblog if you know why this conversation makes cowards nervous.

Save if you have watched someone dodge it in real time.

Read it again if your equality only works when men pay the invoice.