The other day, I found myself at the butcher shop, on a mission to get a specific cut of beef for my renowned pot roast. This recipe has been in my family for years, and I’ve prepared it countless times. I might even dare to say I’m an expert at it—though admitting that as a woman feels somewhat awkward.
As I approached the counter, I confidently requested my desired cut, expecting the butcher to simply hand it over. But instead, the male butcher looked me over and asked what I was planning to make with it, as if that was any of his concern. Then, to my dismay, he launched into a five-minute lecture on the intricacies of meat selection and preparation.
I eventually received my cut of beef, but not without feeling the urge to toss it at him in frustration. Yes, I understand that you’re the butcher, and yes, you know more about meat than I do. But I knew exactly what I wanted and didn’t require your unsolicited advice.
So, to Mr. Butcher and all the other mansplainers out there, let’s have a chat.
Dear Mansplainers,
I’m aware that in professional settings, I tend to speak less than my male counterparts. I often apologize, hold back my thoughts, and use filler words like “um” and “like” more frequently. Research suggests this is because I perceive a lower threshold for what is offensive. Essentially, I’m a bit of a pushover in conversation. But here’s my last apology: I’m working on it.
However, I implore you to cease the mansplaining. The term “mansplaining,” coined by Rebecca Solnit in her 2008 essay Men Explain Things To Me, describes what you do when you ramble on, assuming I can’t grasp a subject simply because I’m a woman.
For example, as a mother of two, it’s unlikely you could adequately explain what childbirth entails or how to handle a baby piranha. Yet, over the years, men have attempted to enlighten me on all these topics, as well as how to prepare a pot roast.
Mansplaining is like a megaphone for the male ego, blaring out information, even when I’ve already demonstrated my expertise. I’ve encountered this at writer conferences, during car rides, in classrooms, at the butcher shop, and countless times in my previous job at a hospital. Male doctors frequently feel the need to explain to female physical therapists how to help someone move, despite the fact that moving people is literally my specialty.
Sometimes, even my husband accidentally mansplains things to me. After 15 years of marriage, I know he doesn’t mean it. For instance, if I express that I’m feeling down, he might elaborate on why I feel that way—suggesting I need more exercise or sleep—completely missing the point. I don’t need a lecture; I just want to share my feelings.
So, please recognize that my brain functions quite well. I have a wealth of knowledge, even if I’m not shouting it from the rooftops. I’ve been around for 40 years, and if I want your advice on my pot roast, I’ll ask for it.
Thanks,
Women Everywhere
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Summary:
In a humorous take on the frustrations of mansplaining, the author shares an experience at the butcher shop where she was lectured on meat selection, despite being an expert in her family’s pot roast recipe. The piece highlights the common occurrence of men explaining things to women, often assuming their lack of knowledge based on gender. The author asserts her competence and requests that mansplainers recognize that women are more than capable of understanding topics without condescension.