My brother is a Math Whiz.  Ever since primary school, he has been competing in Mathematics competitions, and he wins.  All the time.  Top of the class from Grade One to Grade Six, went on to a highly competitive science class in high school.

            My parents love bragging about him to their friends.

            And me?  Well, I had the added pressure of living up to his footprints so of course I did all that too.  And more.  I didn’t just compete in Math.  I competed in Science too, had a bunch of awards for social studies, writing, and advanced to the top university in the Philippines for college.

            Now I work as a receptionist in a hotel for pennies.  And my brother’s an engineer.

            Studies show that women are largely underrepresented in the field of science, technology, engineering and math (STEM).  Math and science have been repeatedly reported as male fields, whereas women tend to be characterized as more suited to humanities.  While it is common to experience gender bias and stereotypes in almost all fields, the gap is particularly pronounced in STEM.  This, added to the lack of role models for women in STEM fields, makes for a very sad picture when you see the statistics.

            For the record, in 2019 Unesco Institute for Statistics stated that women take up less than 30% of the world’s researchers. 

            Many people would probably say my brother is probably just more talented than I am.  He must have been so much better in Math since he survived engineering and even passed the board exams with flying colors.  Whereas I, the little sister always in the shadow of my dear older brother, just happened to be less smart. 

            However, I know for a fact that my IQ is higher than that guy.  I studied Psychology for a few years and I took so many tests just to make sure I’m not lacking in comparison to him, and I’m not lacking in any way.

            Except for the fact that I do not have apenis.

            See, it doesn’t really matter that I have better research skills, or that I can solve as many Math problems as he can.  From the get-go, we had very different upbringings.  Ironic, I know, considering that we had the same parents, but that’s just it.  It doesn't matter that we were made up of the same genes, lived in the same house, ate the same food (mostly) because bottomline is...my brother is a man.  And I’m not.

            We went to the same primary and secondary schools, but people always perceived and treated both of us differently.  I remember how much the teachers loved the guy.  They would buy him food, give him private instructional materials, talk him up to their superiors just because the guy could count.  Meanwhile, the most I could get from my teachers was their opinion on my unbrushed hair and disorganized backpack and my inability to sew a handkerchief. 

            His appearance isn’t picked at and commented for being too fat, too pimply, too unfriendly.  I had to deal with being sexualized at twelve years old because I was growing breasts I didn’t even want.  He had uninterrupted playtime, but I couldn’t even hang out with my peers because, oh, the sun is setting, all vaginas need to be inside the house.

            Any choice I make has a million inputs from non-related people.  Eating meat?  That would make you fat.  Have chocolates?  Oh, diabetes.  Taking pills for dysmenorrhea?  Bad for you, drink this horrible-tasting concoction instead with the same damn chemical components when extracted.

            Growing up, I was always so insecure.  I was afraid to raise my hands and answer questions even though I’m usually right because people would question you over and over again about how I learned what I learned.  Meanwhile, my classmates would just pass over test questions and be done.  If I did badly, it’s a humiliation.  If I did good, it’s another kind of humiliation because people won’t hesitate to accuse you of cheating because that other guy had the same damn answer, apparently.

            There’s no end to it. 

            I went through puberty scared and confused out of my mind.  I felt like I was underwater, kicking and punching, trying to get ashore but all these hands kept pulling me under, filling my ears with water that sounded so much like doubt.  Doubt, doubt, doubt.  People won’t stop doubting you when you’re a girl.  Even when you’re smart they would make you believe you’re not.  Even when you want something they’ll make you stop reaching for it.

            And if you complain, boo hoo, she’s such a girl.  You don’t see your brothers making a big deal out of their shedding uterus? 

            It’s too hard.

            Seriously, it’s too hard.

            Being a woman is like a constant battle against the world.  They want all these things for you, and then a few more things, and a bit more, and there’s no end to it.

            There’s always something they’re expecting.  You reach a certain age they’ll want you to give up and have babies, and it’s so fucking unfair.

            And yeah, if you say that out loud some boomer will probably yell at you to say, “Idiot, nothing is fair!”

            And I would say back, “Just because something is a given, just because something is expected, does not make it right.”  The world is unfair, yes.  But doesn’t that make it more important that we change things?

            We can’t live in a world where we just expect unfairness all the time.  That’s not right.  We need change.  We need policies against discrimination.  We need instructors who won’t let their gender bias affect their lectures.  We need institutions who acknowledge women.  We need to educate people on how to raise children without constantly bombarding them with gender roles.  We need changes from the top down.

We need women in positions to implement these things.

            We need to try harder.

            So much potential is lost when we let these outdated views on gender rule our society.  Think of how wonderful the world can be if we just listened to our mothers?

            Women are amazing.  Hire them people, hire them, and not just to make your coffee assholes.

            Use their brains and stop staring down their shirts.