The 21st Century is Female

I was a very chatty girl and loved hanging out with friends, despite living very far outside the city and not really being able to see my friends a lot, except those I spent most of my afternoons at basketball practice with. It was never a big deal for me though, I liked talking to them on the phone for three hours (and at that time calling from landline to landline still cost money, so my parents hated me!) and then occasionally hanging out with them after school. That was totally fine for me and it was fun. But at some point things changed and I started hating people. I didn’t actually hate them, I just hated having to be around them and having to act like I’m interested in what they have to say. I still had friends, and I cared about them (still do!) but this mixture of depression and anxiety took over and I became distant and very closed off, wouldn’t let anyone close to me and only make out with guys at parties, knowing I wouldn’t have to see them again and they’d get to know me and at some point I’d have to explain my messed up mind to them.

In late 2013 I met an old friend at a mutual friend’s birthday party. We didn’t talk much but we got back in contact afterwards, started talking again and met on several occasions. He would come to my house, I would go to his place and it was nice. I liked him, and for the first time in what felt like ages I finally enjoyed someone’s company again. But my mental illness quickly took over. I was alone for so long and enjoyed it, that one night when he wanted to cuddle in bed and didn’t leave me alone when I told him I was tired, I started to cry and just wanted him gone. Luckily his mate called him to ask if he could pick him up somewhere, so he did and I was finally at peace. And after that I was an asshole. I hurt him and I knew what I was doing, but to be that was the only way I could keep him from more disappointment. Because I knew that if he ever came round again and we ended up in the same position it wouldn’t go down well. So in my mind I thought „I’m going to do this to you now so I don’t end up hurting you worse when we actually start dating“. Which was stupid, but that’s how I thought. I apologised afterwards, no worries, and he accepted and we talked again and I told him I acknowledge that I didn’t treat him right, but I still never told him why exactly. Because some people just don’t need to know, I guess.

Now, in 2015 I moved to a new city. It was a big deal because I’d never really lived far away from home. Of course I’d travelled on my own, but this was different. This was actually being on my own, managing my own money not just for two or three weeks, but for … for the rest of my life, I guess?!

In July 2015 I got with my boyfriend. While I know that we’re a great couple and he is very understanding, but I think it’s difficult for him to deal with me sometimes. Which is totally understandable, and I am surprised he’s dealt with me for ove two years at his own free will.

For me, being in a relationship while suffering from anxiety and depression means that I have problems trusting others. And that is not just in terms of relationships, I have the same thing in regards to friendships. I’ll always worry that someone’s talking about me behind my back, that they’re not happy with me and that I bother them. The same goes for my relationship. I underestimate how important space is and I always take it as a „leave me alone, you’re annoying me“ instead of „I just want some time on my own to get some stuff done that I don’t get done otherwise cause I prefer spending time with you when you’re here than doing actual work“. I get offended, I’ll cry, I’ll be upset and that’s hard for my boyfriend to understand. It’s hard for me to understand because this concept works perfectly fine for other people. I’ve even told him that I hate being away from him because I feel that he’ll hang out with people who are more fun and not as annoying and on several occasions he’s told me that that is not the case and it has nothing to do with me personally, it’s only about him wanting a little time for himself, that is all. I am getting better at this whole „time apart“ thing, but it’s still difficult for me. Because in my own mind I think that I am not good enough, even though he tells me I am and lets me know that I am appreciated and that he enjoys spending time with me. But it’s hard. I have a very vivid imagination, I’ll go to great lengths to worry even though he’s not once given me a reason to worry about anything. I get along with his friends, I get along with his family, he’s met my mother and my whole family at my little brother’s birthday party… but I still worry, and these voices are hard to ignore.

It wasn’t until this year that I confronted my feelings of not belonging anywhere. Despite having grown up in my part of the city, where most grownups fondly talk about their days back in Mexico, living in their ranchos, and if you weren’t bilingual, you were often harmlessly teased by the rest of the neighborhood, I never felt like I belonged. Of all of the kids in my elementary and middle school, I was the only one who was actually born in Mexico, lived there for three years. In my head, that set me apart, though I’m sure my classmates thought nothing of it. But if I were to return to my birthplace, after all these years, I know for a fact I’d stick out like a sore thumb. My preferred language is English, and I’d rather hear something from Sleeping At Last than from Enrique Iglesias. My brother and father like to say I’m Americanized, that I’ve lost touch with my roots. I’m proud of my heritage, but I have no memory of ever living in Mexico. I’m afraid of going back to a country I don’t know. Yet here, in this city and in this country, this isn’t my home. I have no home. I belong nowhere. To American for Mexico, to Mexican for America.

It sickens me to see the events that have taken place since Donald Trump’s inauguration. All across the country, innocent men, women, and teenagers are being torn away from their houses, and dragged into trucks to be shipped back to a country they found it necessary to run from. Do you believe someone would willingly leave behind their home, everything they ever knew and everyone they ever loved, to take the hazardous trip across the border, knowing there’s a chance they’re heading to their grave? Mothers strapped their babies to their backs and endured the hardships of crossing a desert to reach a country in which they could begin a new life, pregnant girls risking it all to give their unborn baby a childhood free of violence and blood. Yet people who’ve never had to struggle in their life, not the way we have, tell us we’re lazy parasites out to destroy their country? We’re the backbone of your economy.

 It may seem so radical, but we are simply human beings running from a place that wishes to do us harm. America was founded by immigrants, and I can’t believe that suddenly immigrants have become a thing to be hated.  

I can’t hold down a job.

That’s the first time I’ve ever said that, and I’m in tears already. Admittance is the first step, right?

I read an article recently that addressed the issues I’m bringing up now, how hard it is to keep a job while managing - or attempting to, as is often the case - mental illness. One of the first lines really struck me, made me think.

“How many times have you been fired?” I chuckled. “None,” I said, “but I have quit many jobs.” That moment stays with me because it gets to the core of one of the biggest problems for those suffering from mental illness: holding down a job.

The moment I read it, I could have cried. I don’t think there’s ever been a sentiment that resonated quite as hard with me. One of the hardest things about my mental health problems is holding down a job, is finding a way to manage this giant weight while balancing everything else you must do to have a career. It’s stifling, it’s suffocating, and it’s hard as hell.

I struggled in work environments that I excelled in that I mentally could not handle, because of how intellectually repressing they were or because of how much they allowed me to linger on my thoughts, things I most certainly did not wish to endure any more than necessary. I couldn’t handle being somewhere that didn’t challenge me because of my disorders but then again in today’s world that was all there was. I was at an impasse with no way out. I tried under, tried over, tried around, and I couldn’t see any other routes.

So, I went through. I needed something stimulating, I needed something that made sure I would work my ass off until I couldn’t anymore, and I mean that. I needed something that would not give me the time to think, something that required my brain to work overtime pretty much. I found that in substitute teaching, but partly because that also allowed me to set my own schedule and take days off when I needed to.

Truth is, there is no ‘magic job’ for those with illness. There’s no ‘perfect career’, because we’re all different and so are our disorders. Subbing works for me, but it may take a while to find what works for you which is fine. It’s okay that you’re struggling. It doesn’t make you any less than anyone else you see that seems to be doing wonderful. We all have our battles, even the Peggy Perfect from high school who already has two degrees, a healthy appearing marriage, and her second promotion.

The secret to managing is reminding yourself that you’re okay and reminding yourself to manage. The secret is giving yourself some slack. As important as it is to find an environment that works with your disorder, it’s also important to remind yourself to be that environment. Honestly, I’m still working on the latter, so please understand when I say it’s okay to have some setbacks I’m speaking from experience.

I got my AA after four years of trying for a two-year degree. I’ve had more jobs and for shorter periods of time than anyone I know my age. I’ve been in more psychiatric wards than anyone else I know, too. The correlation is there, but I do my best. I try my best.

There’s no secret I can give you to finding “the one” in terms of a job. But advice? I have tons. The most important is this - stop comparing yourself to other people and do your best. You’ll get there, just don’t give up on yourself. Find something that stimulates you, something that you enjoy if at all possible, and convince yourself not to quit at least three days in a row. The last one is to try to convince you not to, but it also gives you three extra days on pay on your last check and something to feel good about even if you do quit.

You’ll of heard of the so called gender pay gap. In todays society, men tend to get paid more compared to women. This tend to be in terms of salary jobs in a wide range of business. Hourly paid jobs tend to be paid equally, regardless of gender.

This week, the BBC, one of the biggest broadcasters around the world, had to enclosed information about what its “stars” were paid. A lot of attention was drawn to this as the BBC is partly funded by the British people from the TV licence you need in order to watch a TV in your household.

It caused a bigger issue altogether when it became apparent that there was a huge gender pay gap in the salaries of the BBC employees. I won’t bore you with a full financial breakdown but overall, 8 out of 10 of the highest paid salaries belonged to men.  

Male presenters and news reader were paid more than women, even though the breakfast shows are fronted by a man and a woman. They sit next to each other, doing exactly same the job. Yet, one person, the man, is paid considerably more than the woman. If that’s not ridiculous I don’t know that is.

I’ve always liked the BBC. It’s my chosen channel for news and shows a lot of my favourite shows. I;ve always felt it’s been well represented. There’s a lot of female news readers and dramas are well balanced with some incredible performances by women. I mean, a week before this, it was relieved that there was finally going to be a female Doctor in Doctor Who.

Men in sport presenting roles such as Gary Linekere gets paid far more than Sue Barker who presents the Wimbledon coverage every year and does an incredible job. Male actors get paid more than female actors. The list goes on.

My admiration and loyalty to the BBC has been crushed. I’m angry. I’m angry about the blatant in one of Britain’s most loved companies.

Many people say that the gender pay gap is a myth. But, here it is. In plain site and in a major way. I now see the BBC as pretty much a boys club. I’ve lost a lot of respect for the BBC and feel that this needs to be addressed as soon as possible.

I’ve read comments saying that “women are lucky to have a job” and “women should be housewives and mothers any”. This made me so angry. Women have the right to work just as much as men. Nurses and teachers, jobs filled mostly by women, are the backbone of this country. People need to stop living in the 1950′s. 

Every generation has its own campaign for women’s rights. The suffragettes got us the vote. The women of the 60′s campaigned for better sexual health and the pill. Now, in the 21st century, we have the issue of inequality in the workplace. Pay should not be governed by something such as gender. It should be governed by experience and work ethic and performance. I know people who haven’t been employed as they were up against a man. A company once told my friend hiring a man was less hassle.

So, I’m now boycotting the BBC which means bye bye Doctor Who for me but I can’t support a company that value women less than men. 

It’s okay that I stay home while my fiancé goes to work.

I want to start this article out by saying that specifically, because it is an idea I will fight tooth and nail over. It’s okay that some woman choose, should they be able to, to stay home, to take care of children, to take care of the home, to allow their spouses to take care of them as some would say. I do for medical reasons, but even without those reasons I am here to tell you that it is okay.

The idea that a woman is somehow lesser because she has the ability to work as a team with her partner to stay at the home, to take care of her household, to do the day to day tasks that need to be done to keep a home is an idea that is absurd to me.

I have worked many jobs, from administrative work and teaching to waitressing and retail, and at once point my now fiancé and I lived together while he was not working. I paid our rent, I paid our utilities, I paid our grocery bill. He made sure the house was put together and I was grateful for it. We worked as a team, always, and now that the tables are turned we still do. He supports me just as I support him, no matter which one of us is punching a clock and which one of us is arguing with Comcast over the constant outages or fixing whatever might break in the household next. We both contribute, even if it’s in different ways.

Something that has always hurt my heart is that some women look down on other women for being at home. When people ask me what I do and I admit that I stay at the home, I see that second pause, that judgmental crinkle of the eyes, the pursed lips that fade into a smile. I see the distaste. I see it, I recognize it, and I put an end to it as soon as I do. I stay at home because of medical reasons, I say, and I watch that crinkle turn to one of shame. But why should anyone need an excuse to do something that makes them happy?

The idea that women need to do it all and are somehow not feminists if they stay at home while having the right to work isn’t an ideology I stand by, and here’s why: People should have a choice. My being at home does not affect my ability to participate in politics and society. If anything, I have been more involved in both since I have been. Now I have the time to be, whereas while I was working my participation was watercooler talk and skimming Facebook posts while on a bathroom break.

I was told by a friend that I was somehow less of a feminist because I ‘belonged’ to a man now, and because I was allowing him to ‘own’ me. I was told by another that my fiancé being the breadwinner took away from my autonomy. I was told a lot of things, and all of them are wrong.

No matter what reason I have, or what reason anyone else has, for staying home, that is my business. My partner and I, as partner’s, decided together that we could afford for me to do so and that is our business alone. We together made the decision that I would stay home while he worked, and still work as a team even if he is the one making the money. He works, I divide that paycheck up to make it pay all of our bills as well as have set aside balances for groceries, date nights, any events we have planned, and emergencies. I still contribute to my household and anyone else who stays home does as well.

I, and people like me, are no less our own beings just because we do not go somewhere else to work. We work at home. We invest our energies into our home versus a company. We invest our energies into our household, our children, our relationships, and we get paid for our efforts in other ways than monetary gain.

Okay, so when I started my health kick, I thought it would be beneficial to start going to the gym. So I assembled my gym kit and off I went to my local gym. Now, back when I started, I was a complete newbie. I had no idea how to even begin an exercise regime with any semblance of structure so I went on numerous Google searches o try and discern how exactly to ‘Gym’. The results varied greatly - from insanely detailed regimes with every spare moment assigned to some activity all the way to 'the gym is bad for you! AVOID!!!’. Needless to say these results were less than helpful.

So I started making it up as I went along. I jumped on the treadmill - a fairly simple piece of equipment- and just hit start. For the first few weeks it was hard; I became tired really quickly and my body always ached the day after (not to mention how sweaty I got.) Gradually I built up my stamina and was able to run farther and faster in the allotted time. Now, one of the main issues for me was that my face was always super red when I had finished. This on its own is really not a big deal. The issue was that everywhere I looked, everyone looked like running 12 km/hr for 30 minutes was an absolute breeze. (Spoiler alert: it isn’t - at least for me it’s not). This lack of confidence affected my drive to keep going back to the gym. I feared I would look like a perpetual newbie, doomed to always look like I was just starting out. Another issue I had was that on a typical day, the gym was about 60 - 70% male. Again, this in and of itself is not an issue. The thing was that these men were mostly concentrated in the weights section and they are pretty good at the weights based exercise machines and equipment, which made me feel like an idiot when I got to a weights machine and find it was set to something like 70lbs and I could only manage 20lbs on a good day. Not to mention, working these machines does not prompt he most attractive of faces at the best of times.

Now what really prompted me to say 'You know what? Who cares what I look like?’ is the 'This Girl Can’ organisation, funded by Sports England, who are 'a celebration of active women who are doing their thing no matter how well they do it, how they look or even how red their face gets.’ They run super feminist adverts on the television showing women of all ages, shapes and sizes - women with disabilities, women who are thin, women who are unashamedly fat, women who want to get fit and women who want to have fun partaking in a variety of sports; from running to kickboxing. Their mission statement is “…we want to help women overcome the fear of judgement that is stopping too many women and girls from joining in.” This attitude of I’m going to go and have a good time, no matter what anyone else thinks coupled with phrases like “My game face has lipstick on it” and “I jiggle, therefore I am” (which the philosopher in me loves) really inspired me to carry on doing what I was doing, no matter how red I got or how much I was wheezing on the treadmill.

LBGTQ people aren’t particularly safe in Florida.

Two years ago, on June twenty-fifth on 2015, same-sex marriage was legalized and a lot of the people who had been actively against it had one thing to say when gay rights was still fought for - “You got what you wanted, what else do you need?”

Sadly, gay rights, though it has come far since the first day of the AIDS epidemic in the 1980s, has a long way to go before any of us are safe. Yes, same-sex marriage is legal – finally – but that doesn’t mean that we have a long way to go before everything is fixed.

As I live in Florida, that’s where I’ll be focusing my view point. People see Florida as this fun vacation destination things to the many theme parks it offers, but did you know that up until as recently as 2003 the act of being homosexual was still illegal? In fact, that law was changed because of a US Supreme ruling, rather than just written out of the books as an old and benign rule. Additionally, until the United States legalized same-sex marriage across all the states, same-sex marriage and civil unions were banned as well as unrecognized in the Sunshine State.

Even worse than that is the fact that Florida allows the discrimination, both in housing and employment, of LGBTQ people at a state level. Florida’s state laws also deny gay couples the right to adopt, saying married couples may only adopt when engaged in a male/female relationship.

Moreover, it isn’t just those of nonheternormative sexualities that are discriminated against in Florida. For a transgender person to legally change their gender, they must first both legally change their name and get Gender Reassignment Surgery, something that is no small price. TSRoadmap.com estimates that it is typical to spend a total of $40,000 to $50,000 for a mid-range transition, including surgery. Affording that in a state that allows the discrimination and termination of employment for being LGBTQ is in no way an easy task.

I personally identify as nonheteronormative and in 2012 as a ward of the state of Florida I was removed from a foster home after I was told I “disrespected their home” for being in a committed relationship with a female. In the town I lived in that same year, I was outed by a public school employee and told by a leading member of the church I attended that because of my orientation I shouldn’t attend my best friend’s funeral because it would upset them and his parents to see me knowing I was not straight. Mind you, his parents took me to their family gathering and I rode with them from the funeral ceremony to the cemetery. All of this in the course of three months, nonetheless the rest of my time living in this state.

Those of us as LGBTQ have to stand against actions like these and, even worse, actions like the 2016 Pulse Nightclub Massacre in Orlando, Florida. For those of you in Florida, take action. Research the ACLU for what you can do to promote the safety and rights of LGBTQ members. For those of you outside of Florida, find your ACLU or your own such programs and do what you can to stop this.

I focused on Florida but the truth is this is common in many places of our world, let alone in the United States. LGBTQ people are treated like second class citizens just for existing and face harassment, violence, isolation, among other terrible acts of injustice against them. We as people, nonetheless as women who already suffer enough inequity just from walking down the street, should come together to promote equality - not just of sexuality but of gender, race, and all the other issues we face today.

I can’t look at the women’s section of a sports store.

Listen, pink is great. I love the color pink. Every time I do Buzzfeed quizzes and they ask me what’s my favorite color, I always click pink if that’s an option. But for the love of all that is good, the women’s section in a sports store should be more than just pink workout gear and flimsy v-neck t-shirts. I want a jersey or team gear in a woman’s size. Is that seriously too much for manufacturer’s to handle and make? I want to stop buying oversized jerseys and sweatshirts in the men’s section or going to the little boy’s section for basic player t-shirts, which I have successfully done in the past. Seriously, I barely even glance at the female section of sports stores, and the only reason I would ever walk through it is to cut through a crowd and/or get to the exit faster. It is not a novelty anymore that a woman can be a sports fan given that you’ve provided a section of your store for them. It’s time for manufacturers to realize that not all of us are looking for sportswear that reveal a lot of skin just because that’s what they want to see.

Men (and women) are frequently surprised that I am a sports fan.

Senior year in high school, my hometown NHL team is making a run for the Stanley Cup, so what do I do? I show my support by wearing an official team hoodie, one that I of course bought in the smallest size they had in the men’s section because there was no selection whatsoever in the women’s section. I’m walking into one of my classes, and a male classmate that sits near me looks up in surprise and literally asks, “You watch hockey?” No, dude, I just made my mom buy me this overpriced and oversized men’s hoodie because I love this shade of brown and thought I could wear it as a dress since it’s so friggin’ big…

To say the least, that was not the last time a guy was surprised to find out I was a sports fan. I mean, I kind of get it. I come off as a studious, diligent, introverted kind of girl, and to top that off, I am Asian. But yes, dude, I like sports. And I understand what I’m watching, okay? No, I don’t know all the strategies that go into play since I’ve never actually studied or played the game myself, but I know the rules, I know what’s going on. I dread the moment some guy finds out I’m a sports fan and decides to start grilling me on outrageous statistics just to prove that I’m actually a fan. Dude, go away and let me watch the game in peace.

There will always be fangirls even if I’m not one of them.

One MLB game that I went to with my dad and sister, an Asian player was pitching for the opposing team. We happened to be sitting relatively close behind the opposing team’s dugout and found out very quickly that the surge of Asian spectators we encountered nearby was because it was the fangirls (and fanboys) section. How do I know they were fangirls and not just any other female spectator? Because each time the Asian pitcher finished his half of the inning and walked back to the dugout, all the Asian fangirls rushed as close as they could get to the dugout and cried out his name and waved and asked for the one game ball that they weren’t going to get. And then promptly after he left the game, which was about a whopping total of three innings, all the fangirls left! To this day, my sister and I remember this game and moment with eternal laughter and chagrin.

Yes, there are fangirls, and yes, they’re allowed to fangirl. Unfortunately, they may represent the image of a female sports fan and subsequently misguide that image as one who cares and knows little about the game but rather is there for the eye candy. I mean, do I think Matt Wieters is a good-looking dude? Yeah. Is that the only reason I like him as a baseball player? Absolutely not. Do I think Julian Edelman is relatively attractive? Yes. Is that the only reason I know his name? No! Listen. I am a fangirl because I am a fan and I am a girl. I am not, however, some overly excited and cheery girl jumping up and down and waving some obnoxious “Marry me!” sign at athletes because I’m looking to score or find an overpaid athlete for a husband. Inevitably, there will always be those type of people out there, and yes, they’re usually female. That, however, does not represent me or the entire female population.

I love and hate female sportscasters.

Here’s the thing. Do I think there should be more female sportscasters out there? Yes, absolutely. Do I like the majority of female sportscasters out there in the field right now? No. Don’t get me wrong, there are people like Kathryn Tappen and Naoko Funayama; they’re great and I love them because it’s obvious they do their homework and get the job done without adding unnecessary fanfare or a ‘girly’ touch to their shows/segments/interviews. But then there are also people like Heidi Watney, and you wish for nothing more than for the woman to get off your screen. And while the addition of Jessica Mendoza to Sunday Night Baseball on ESPN is awesome, her company still seemingly treat her differently. I mean, they basically made her do a fluff piece with Addison Russell about his Pokemon card collection. Do you think they would’ve made Aaron Boone conduct that segment? I highly doubt it. But due to the sheer fact that Jessica is a girl, the interview was probably given to her when she could have been covering other, more relevant segments.

Maybe this is more of a personal opinion more than anything, but I genuinely think a lot of female sportscasters hiring decisions are done for two reasons: because companies realize they need to hire women to apparently look inclusive and because if they need to hire a woman, well, these men are going to hire someone that looks good. Yes, of course these women need to look good on camera; I admit that appearance is an important aspect of the job. But surely these women they’re hiring need more than just good looks to get by and fulfill their job requirements, right? Surely these women need to be educated, well-informed, and hardworking. And no, I do not know how much work each individual female sportscaster is putting into her job so I cannot comment and criticize on that. What I do know is that seven out of ten times, I wish the female sportscaster on my TV wasn’t wearing that deep v-neck and was required to do more than what I’m seeing in flimsy, minute-long interviews.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is problematic.

Before you freak out, let me soften the blow by saying – pretty much all of your faves are a little problematic. Every TV show, every book, every character has an area where it falls down a little, and that’s okay, it happens. No one is creating art to be perfect and rightly so because nothing is going to be, not now or twenty years from now when we ultimately have entirely different social issues. We as a people evolve and learn and as such when we look back on our favorite childhood characters – and this article is on my all-time favorite childhood character – we realize there are issues they went against, like how racist The Pest was, and how transphobic The X Files, and how ultimately Buffy the Vampire Slayer contributed to bi-erasure and had plenty of instances of sexism, racism, and misogyny not to mention the entire problem that is Xander Harris. Ouch.

Now I will be the first to tell you that rewatching your fave and finding out it’s problematic hurts, but here’s why it’s a good thing: you learn from it, and can prove you’ve grown. When I was watching Buffy slay vampires and cry over a one night stand – Patrick, right? – I, too, believed her to be the epitome of feminism. When she said she was like cookies I knew I didn’t need a man and I’d be just fine on my own… until fifteen minutes later, when she’s entirely in love with Spike again and gosh, why can’t I just find a man so in love with me he’ll try to sexually assault me to show he cares – oh, wait, because I know better. Because I’ve grown.

Bi-erasure was a huge problem for me personally, shown through the love triangle that existed for about three episodes with Oz, Willow, and Tara. Willow was head over heels in love with Oz for two full seasons of Buffy, until she meets Tara and is suddenly gay. Now, let me clarify, I was all for Willow being homosexual, except she had just had a long conversation about why she still very much loved Oz and how he was her always and now she was gay and totally against the idea of dating guys for the rest of the series. Be careful, I have a little whiplash too.

It is definitely sad when media erases areas of grey sexuality, but this one in particular broke my heart. As a nonheteronormative woman who has been romantically and sexually involved with people of varying genders, why the sudden jump? Willow had fantasized about men for years and had been with a man for what was presumably two years before she jumped out of the closet to my confusion. There were no hints at closeted feelings, no long looks at Buffy though I sure wanted there to be, and the storyline smacked me in the face. Why was gay and straight the only options? And why ignore the opportunity it could have been to explore that area of grey sexuality and have Willow develop naturally into a gay woman? Because it’s easier to make it black and white: gay, straight, nothing in between, and that’s been a problem long before Willow Rosenberg first shined on the screen in 1997.

Next up is the casual sexism of BTVS. Has anyone looked back on the Buffy series and really thought about the way they viewed sexually liberated females? I mean, honestly, the moment Buffy loses her virginity to Angel the man loses his soul, and it’s thought to be her fault. Actually, when Angel then goes and kills Jenny, there are many times where Buffy is blamed for it, because she was the one who had sex with him. She also blames herself for sleeping with him, as if it’s her fault she broke the curse by allowing herself sex. Beyond that, the women in the Buffy series consistently seem to be at blame for their boyfriends’ infidelity, as if it is somehow their shame that their men couldn’t ‘help themselves’ but to cheat. Without even bringing up Xander’s consistent terrible behavior towards women, these storylines needed to change, and Buffy is problematic for playing into them as hard as it did for seven seasons.

Racism, too, is a pretty big issue in BTVS and here’s why: it took six seasons for a person of color to live beyond a few episodes, and yet many of the villains or those who died very quickly, such as Kendra, Mister Trick, Forrest, Nikki, and Mister Sweet. The only person of color who earned a real story line was that of Robin, Nikki’s son, and most of that played off of the death of his mother, a person of color who was shown only for her death scene, pretty much. Now, sure, you can blame this on the times but this was the late 1990s and early 2000s, it’s not asking too much to see more than one good POC character who lives. Then again, labeling Robin as good is a bit iffy as well, given that he attempted to murder someone defenseless, but I digress.

On the topic of misogyny I fear I should take a break, crack my knuckles, rotate my shoulders, because honestly on this I could probably write a book. Joss Whedon’s feminism has become incredibly problematic over the years and was very apparent in Buffy, though it was praised at the time as a feminism show and Joss was praised for being a feminist. He was constantly praised for writing strong female characters but the point stands – is a female character strong and feminist for beating up bad guys when they constantly depend on guys, usually who are bad guys? The answer is, ultimately, no.

Truth is, Buffy was created by men, watched by men, relied on men throughout the entire series. She falls apart when Angel leaves, understandably, but then again with the emotionally abusive Riley and the playboy Parker, and that doesn’t even begin to talk about her relationships with these men or bring up Spike, who literally tried to sexually assault her and almost succeeded. And this only focusing on Buffy Summers! If you bring Joss Whedon’s slut shaming and misogyny towards Cordelia and Faith into the picture, this entire article would get much longer than it probably needs to be so let me summarize – sexual and confident on BTVS leads to demise. Always. Over and over throughout Buffy’s seven seasons we are seen that a woman having sex is dangerous and somehow tarnishes them, with the exception of only one, the BuffyBot. Apparently, if you’re a robot being used for the enjoyment of men, then it’s okay… Not the best light for feminism, but a very bright one on misogyny.