I will never forget the first time I really and truly felt that I was being treated as though I was some sort of pack mule. It was time for theater rehearsals and as I did every single day after school, I went to work. I had a super bad day at work and was tired out. I had exactly an hour to kill until rehearsals, which was not enough time to go home and get back. I ran all the errands I had been procrastinating on. I filled my gas tank up, deposited my last check into the ATM, and then went to get dinner before heading straight to rehearsal.

I was completely exhausted.

On the way, however, I get a phone call being told that my brother was hungry after his baseball game and was going to have no time to get food during our three-hour practice. Even though I only wanted to spend money on my own food and the whole process was just going to make my errand running process that much longer. Even while writing this, my brother and friends peered over my shoulder. He seemed angry.

Feminism isn't much of a popular topic and sometimes I feel like I hold a sort of dirty secret by being one.

It has driven me away from people which is why I think some women try their best to steer clear of it. It can be easier to not stand up. Sitting down and shutting up is almost always a thousand times easier. As easy as it is, it's still not me.

I am tired.

It's not my job to buy food for ungrateful boys who think their sports that they will ultimately most likely never play again after their high school years with the exception of inter-murals or other amateur levels of competition.

I work to make money so I can afford apartment rent as I know how dangerous it is for females to be homeless.

I work so that I can afford car payments to get me the places that I need to go.

I work so I can pay my own college tuition when my parents are no longer able to.

I work because I have to.

I work because my life is a little bigger than high school baseball.

I am by no means even remotely alluding to the fact that what I do as an employee is any superior to what others do as high school athletes, however, what I do think is that don't treat people who work hard as though they have nothing better to do than cater to you.

I'm busy.

I have work. I have classes to place and hopefully, just hopefully, if I can pass English, I'll graduate in May. It's difficult for me to handle my own responsibilities, much less those of a relatively anonymous man I don't care much for. It's not my job nor the job of any woman to accommodate for you. If you want food you can purchase or make your own, you can clean your own house and pay your own bills. I am responsible for me. If I love you, I'll do those things. I will make sacrifices for you whether it is my time or my money. But know you are not inherently worthy of such things. I am not here to cater to your needs.

Let's work hard on not forgetting that, OK?