We need to talk about

… a stubborn thing that’s been stuck in my mind for a while now.

It’s been like a small but annoying stone in my shoe that won’t go away until I stop what I’m doing and deal with it. And it has taken me a few days the ‘shake it out’ and find the words.

This thing came up in a conversation with a good old friend recently after a night out. Someone I like and trust, someone who absolutely sees himself, and is seen as one of the “good guys.”

I didn’t know the woman he was talking about at the time, a girlfriend of a friend, I think, but he referred to her as a slapper. It was so casual, a small thing, but I pulled him up on it. I think I said it was unhelpful, sexist, and that as a man who cares about women, he should know better. He should be setting an example. And he should be calling it out when he hears language like that out in the world.

His response?

“I’ve thought about it, it’s the right word to use, and I’m comfortable with it.”

And that was it. Case closed. Conversation over. Shut down.

Literally: it’s ok because I say so. When put like that, it sounds positively… parental, doesn’t it? Hmmmn.

And that’s what’s stuck with me.

Not just the word. There are worse things a person could say or do than call a woman a slapper, seriously, I’m not that sensitive, and we’ve all suffered worse, some of us much worse and I don’t want to minimise or trivialise those experiences of others in any way. It was the calm, dismissive confidence with which he made himself the judge and jury and brushed my objection aside that is sticking. My objection was not taken as a prompt to reflect, or as a moment for curiosity or humility even, but as something that could be so quickly and easily dismissed.

He was comfortable with the word. Therefore, it was fine. And I should be fine too.

It was only a small thing. One common word. But maybe that’s exactly the point. Maybe addressing the small stuff matters precisely because it’s not the worst thing. Maybe every time we let casual sexism slide by unchallenged, we’re not just avoiding conflict and discomfort- we’re passing it on, allowing it to go on unchecked. We’re kicking it into the long grass for the next woman to trip over.

We need to talk about the ‘good guys’

I have realised something since that moment that I haven’t quite been able to un-realise since… the source of my general sense of dis-comfort and something that has been crawling all over me ever since:

Even with the good guys, we’re not safe.

Not really. Not when it matters. Why? Because if they can’t hear us on the seemingly small stuff – on the language, the tone, the tired derogatory slurs – how are they going to hear us on the big stuff? How are we going to have conversations about the systems and structures that these casual sexist attitudes help to maintain? The more dangerous stuff? Systemic misogyny? Violence against women? The erosion of reproductive rights and access to reproductive health?

It’s not enough for the ‘good guys’ to say they are on our side – they need to show us. Every day. Being one of the ‘good guys’ is not an identity, it’s a daily practice. A way of being.

This is the truth for women living in a world where so much harm is normalised and minimised, and so much is decided for us. What’s unsettling here isn’t just the language. It’s the casualness. The confidence. The entitlement. The fact that he got to be the judge of whether it was an issue.

The problem with the ‘good guys’ is that because they see themselves as kind, respectful, and progressive, they somehow feel they are exempt. That their good intent is enough to override the actual impact of their words and someone else’s lived experience. That their self-image as one of the good guys gives them the right to define what’s harmful and what’s not, even when the person on the receiving end is telling them otherwise.

I know it’s not all heroes and villains, but…

I know the world isn’t neatly divided into heroes and villains, good guys and bad guys. I also know that my friend’s resistance to my objection may well have been a simple moment of defensiveness, and it doesn’t define his entire character. The problem is that even well-intentioned people can get stuck in defensive responses that prevent them from engaging and learning.

When someone’s self-image as a “good guy” becomes more important than listening to feedback about harm they might be causing, when it leads them to double down, then the conversation is going nowhere.

The damage it may cause doesn’t simply cease to exist just because they didn’t intend it.

Many people still don’t see sexism, especially the mild, casual, everyday kind, as very serious or recognise that it’s something that affects nearly every aspect of daily life for women and girls just walking around in their bodies on planet earth.

The existence of misogyny is still considered “up for debate,” especially when it comes disguised as humour or familiarity. And men, even the ‘good guys’, feel comfortable electing themselves as the judges of what is and isn’t acceptable. Just as they feel comfortable putting forward opinions and making decisions about women’s rights over their own bodies.

I keep asking myself: why can’t I let this one go?

Why has this moment stuck with me?

Maybe it’s because I’m a 54-year-old menopausal woman raising a teenage daughter in a world that’s still steeped in all this mildly sexist and, let’s face it, overtly misogynist bullshit. And my capacity to just let the bullshit slide is much diminished these days – which, I understand may be a simple function of entering this glorious life-stage as a woman.

Maybe it’s because while many women live with relative freedom, true equality remains beyond our reach. In some parts of the world, basic rights for women and girls – their essential humanity – are still denied. Elsewhere, in places that once felt safe, those rights are being eroded.

We are raising daughters in a world where the insidious voices of toxic masculinity – ‘men with microphones’ broadcasting to the ‘Manosphere’ from ‘Trust Me Bro University’ – are gaining greater access to and influence over young male minds. And authentic feminine sensuality and expression of sexuality is judged (and not just by men), hijacked, commoditised and exploited. 

Maybe I’m just tired. Tired of having to explain the basics and being the one to “make it a thing” of it whenever I’m faced with yet another instance of micro-misogyny out in the wild. Tired of watching people with power over social dynamics opt out of that responsibility when it comes to the language they use and what they let slide by.

Finally, I simply give less of a shit about being seen as a nice woman and about making others feel comfortable. So what if I’m “that woman” who always makes things awkward, who causes the eye rolls? I’m ok with that now, after decades spent letting things go, not speaking up, not wanting to make myself unpopular. Letting the boys be boys.

Maybe I’m finally using my voice when it matters – in the moment, when it might actually land, and not just in hindsight when I’m on the phone in a ‘safe’ conversation with a girlfriend.

So, What’s the Solution?

I realise that it’s not terribly helpful just to vomit my outrage onto the page without offering any kind of solution. There’s no simple formula here, of course, but I think we could start with a few key shifts:

For those who would be allies

True allyship means staying curious when you’re confronted with feedback, even when it’s uncomfortable. It means recognising that your good intentions don’t erase the harmful impact of your words and actions. It means understanding that empathy and understanding, growth, is ongoing, not a destination you arrive at.

We are none of us “fixed”. We are all a work in progress.

For those who would rise up and call out the bullshit

It is possible to acknowledge someone’s general good character while still addressing specific harmful behaviours. We can approach these conversations with the assumption that people are capable of listening and changing those behaviours, while still holding firm on our boundaries about what’s acceptable.

For all of us to recognise

Casual sexism isn’t harmless just because it’s so common. It isn’t separate from more serious forms of misogyny – it’s all part of the same beast. It’s the tip of the iceberg, and when we normalise the casual dehumanisation of women through language, we pave the way for more serious harm to be perpetuated.

Every unchallenged sexist slur, every dismissed concern, every time we’re told we’re being “too sensitive” about language – it all feeds into a larger system that devalues or invalidates women’s experiences and perspectives.

This is my Queen of Swords rising

I’m also asking myself why I’m bothering to write about this. It’s not my job. It isn’t my ‘work’.

But then I realise this isn’t separate from my work. It is very much a part of my work. The deck I’ve been working on, the Still Small Voice Tarot, is being created in the modern feminist tradition. I have been inspired by so many of the beautiful decks that have come on the market in the last decade – decks that claim Tarot as a space where the feminine is not just included, but centred – offering a more rounded reflection of our real, lived experience of the wonderful yet often dangerous world we inhabit.

This deck is my response to that world. It offers a space where your inner voice is honoured, your experience is reflected, and your power can be reclaimed. To help us hear ourselves clearly enough to speak out. To trust the inner voice and express it even when it’s inconvenient or awkward. To stop gaslighting ourselves just so others can continue to feel ‘comfortable’.

This is not anger, this is clarity

In the end, this post, which started out in my mind as an angry feminist rant, has not been written in rage. Although female rage is a completely reasonable response to the seemingly endless bullshit we have to put up with. It feels like writing it has given me some much-needed clarity and helped me to establish some clearer boundaries about what I will and will not slide.

The Queen of Swords is rising – and this Queen has a very low tolerance for bullshit in general and sexist bullshit in particular.

The Queen of Swords cuts through illusion, but she also believes in the possibility of truth and progress. She knows that calling out harm and maintaining relationships aren’t mutually exclusive – in fact, honest conversations are often what make real relationships possible.

Tarot Prompt

Pull the Queen of Swords (or all the Queens if you like) from your deck and explore the following questions. If you don’t have a deck, you can simply sit with the prompts and write down your responses in a notebook or journal.

Ask yourself:
What truth am I ready to speak? What voice in me is ready to rise? How can I speak this truth in a way that opens rather than closes conversational doors?

Explore the feminine shadow:
When have I silenced my discomfort because someone else felt comfortable? How has it served me to stay quiet in the past? Where might I be ready to let that go?