The other day, I found myself in front of the meat counter, looking for a particular cut of beef for my renowned pot roast. This recipe has been passed down in my family, and I’ve made it countless times. To be honest, I consider myself quite knowledgeable about it—though admitting that as a woman feels a bit awkward.
I approached the counter, requested the meat, and anticipated a straightforward transaction. Instead, the male butcher looked me over and began asking what I intended to use it for—like it was any of his business—and launched into an elaborate lecture about the meat itself. For five long minutes, he detailed what I should do and shouldn’t do with it. Eventually, I got the cut I wanted, but I left feeling like I could have done without the unsolicited advice.
Sure, Mr. Butcher, you’re the expert on meat, but I knew exactly what I wanted and didn’t need your input. Here’s an open letter to you and all the other mansplainers out there.
Dear Mansplainers,
As a woman, I recognize I might not speak up as often in professional settings. I’m not as blunt, apologize frequently, and tend to use filler words like “um” and “like” more than you do. Research indicates this is due to my lower threshold for what I consider offensive. Yes, I can be a pushover in conversations, but I’m working on it—this will be the last time I apologize.
But please, stop the mansplaining. The term “mansplaining” was introduced by Rebecca Solnit in her 2008 essay, “Men Explain Things To Me.” It describes the tendency of some men to explain topics in detail, assuming I lack understanding simply because I’m a woman.
For example, as a mother, you probably wouldn’t dare explain childbirth to me or how to breastfeed a baby piranha. Yet, I’ve had countless men attempt to explain these very things to me over the years.
Mansplaining is like the male ego taking center stage, insisting on sharing information, even when I’ve already demonstrated my expertise in that area. I’ve encountered it at writers’ conferences, while driving, in classrooms, at the meat counter, and far too often in my previous job at a hospital, where male doctors loved to explain movement techniques to female physical therapists—something I specialize in.
Sometimes, even my husband unintentionally mansplains. After 15 years of marriage, I know he doesn’t mean any harm. For instance, if I express that I’m feeling down, he might start diagnosing the problem, suggesting I need more exercise or sleep or to be stricter with the kids. What I really need is simply to acknowledge my feelings, not a lecture.
So, to all the mansplainers out there, understand that my brain functions just fine. I’m knowledgeable about many topics, even if I’m not always vocal about them.
Having lived on this planet for 40 years, I will ask for your opinion on my pot roast if I want it.
Thanks,
Women Everywhere
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