You are 12. You’re at the library looking for some generic young adult fiction novel about a girl who falls for her best friend. Your dad makes a disgusted face. “This is about lesbians,” he says. The word falls out of his mouth as though it pains him. You check out a different book and cry when you get home, but you aren’t sure why. You learn that this is not a story about you, and if it is, you are disgusting.
You are 15. Your relatives are fawning over your cousin’s new boyfriend. “When will you have a boyfriend?” they ask. You shrug. “Maybe she’s one of those lesbians,” your grandpa says. You don’t say anything. You learn that to find love and acceptance from your family, you need a boyfriend who thinks you are worthy of love and acceptance.
You are 18. Your first boyfriend demands to know why you never want to have sex with him. He tells you that sex is normal and healthy. You learn that something is wrong with you.
You are 13. You’re at a pool party with a relative’s friend’s daughter. “There’s this lesbian in my gym class. It’s so gross,” she says. “Ugh, that’s disgusting,” another girl adds. They ask you, “do you have any lesbians at your school?” You tell them no and they say you are lucky. You learn to stay away from people.
You are 20. You have coffee with a girl and you can’t stop thinking about her for days afterwards. You learn the difference between a new friendship and new feelings for a person.
You are 13. Your mom is watching a movie. You see two girls kiss on screen. You feel butterflies and this sense that you identify with the girls on the screen. Your mom gets up and covers the screen. You learn that if you are like those girls, no one wants to see it.
You are 20. You and your friends are drunk and your ex-boyfriend dares you to make out with your friend. You both agree. You touch her face. It feels soft and warm. Her lips are small and her hands feel soft on your back. You learn the difference between being attracted to someone and recognizing that someone you care about is attractive.
You are 16. You find lesbian porn online. Their eyes look dead and their bodies are positioned in a way that you had never imagined. You learn that liking girls is acceptable if straight men can decide the terms.
You are 20. You are lying next to a beautiful girl and talking about everything. You tell her things that you don’t usually tell anyone. You learn how it feels not to want to go to sleep because you don’t want to miss out on any time with someone.
You are 15. Your parents are talking about a celebrity. Your dad has a grin on his face and says, “her girlfriend says that she’s having the best sex of her life with her!” You learn that being a lesbian is about the kind of sex you have and not how you love.
You are 18. You are in intro to women’s and gender studies. “Not all feminists are lesbians- I love my husband! Most of the feminists on our leadership team are straight! It’s just a stereotype,” the professor exclaims. You learn that lesbianism is something to separate yourself from.
You are 21 and you are kissing a beautiful girl and she’s your girlfriend and you understand why people write songs and make movies and stupid facebook statuses about this and time around you just seems to stop and you could spend forever like this and you learn that there is nothing wrong with you and you are falling in love.
You are 21. And you are okay.”
If you’re at a pool, and there’s some kids running, and the life guard shouts “No running!” do you interject with “EXCUSE ME, NOT ALL OF US WERE RUNNING.”
If you’re in class, and a classmate is eating, and your professor addresses his students, “There’s no eating in the classroom,” do you scream out “EXCUSE ME, BUT WE’RE NOT ALL EATING.”
The lifeguard and your professor are well aware who is doing what. There is no reason for them to modify their sentences because they realize you’re aware of who is doing what, too. They have enough faith in your intelligence that if they say, no running, or, no eating, you will recognize that if you are not already doing these things, you are in the clear.
When someone begins a post, “why do men do x,” they are not saying that every single man in this world wakes up and makes it a point to do x for the day, every day of his life. Nobody ever, ever thinks that. They exist around men and observe men on a regular enough basis to know that obviously not all men do x.
No. They are saying that they have witnessed men doing x enough that they would like to point it out. They are saying that in the whole group of men, there are men who do x, and they think it’s worth noting.
So there’s no reason to go “NOT ALL MEN” because everyone already knows not all men, and that’s why nobody said “all men.” They just said men. If you’re not the man it applies to, move the fuck on, just like you’d keep walking at a swimming pool or keep not eating in class.
If the words “some men” are keeping you from recognizing a post with very valid points, you’re the problem.