Punching Holes in the Glass Ceiling

Today someone voiced that there were eighteen million cracks in the glass ceiling at this very moment. In a way this is correct, because if a female is elected President of the United States, it will certainly be history in the making.

girls

However, as I continue to look through my various social media feeds I’m not seeing all those cracks. I see a little space carved out perhaps, allowing women to climb up further in certain areas. Two of my role models have only in the last few weeks stepped out on their own and bravely voiced their beliefs, regardless of the criticism it was sure to arouse. But because of that I saw women verbally abusing each other with an “I’ll pray for your soul” attached at the end for good measure.

I’m seeing women objectify their own bodies and calling it feminism, perpetuating the idea that we are images that need to be on display at all times. What I don’t see is a guy showcasing his body and calling it male power, grabbing himself in the name of freedom, or loudly singing about sexual positions to an audience of high schoolers and calling it his male right. They do all that stuff, sure. But they aren’t trying to attach it to a holy cause.

I see judgment from all sides, throwing boulders at one another and calling it Christianity.

Hey ladies, let’s scrap like cats because someone doesn’t want to breastfeed at all, or decides to nurse well into the toddler years. Let’s “slay” as we judge each other based on our political preferences. We can rally at the cause of feminism by purchasing a push-up bra so that we can feel good about ourselves while we’re at it. But who even decided that high breasts were something to feel empowered about?

I think our glass ceiling is being held in place by each other’s hands, and until we can get past these things nothing will be shattered. We will only see individuals cutting their own holes and climbing through – wrinkles and all – while the rest of us scramble for youth and other people’s affirmation, not even noticing when someone escapes.

And as long as Sexy Witch is the number one costume choice of adult females, I think most of us will continue burning each other at the stake, while a very few make their own ladders and climb up and out.

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