Embracing Kindness and Understanding for Women Everywhere
Thank you for refraining from asking when I’ll get married. It stings when you jokingly comment about me applying for an HDB flat alone at 35, labeling me picky when I express my desire not to settle for someone who cannot see and nurture my true potential for life.
Thank you for not giving up your seat. I pretend to be engrossed in my phone to distract myself from the debilitating pain of my period and the anxiety of possibly staining my pants.
Thank you for not questioning men about how they juggle work and family responsibilities—you know they often can’t.
Thank you for not allowing me to take last-minute leave, knowing it would cost me a day’s salary. You understand the helplessness I feel when my child is turned away from school for a slight cough, the long wait at the pediatric clinic, and the lack of support to share my responsibilities.
Thank you for not showing hostility toward my sexuality. I regret not being able to hold, hug, and kiss her in public, having to let her go due to the absence of same-sex marriage rights in our community.
Thank you for not dismissing my age as a barrier to being funded in my endeavors when I launched my own company at 46. You know lists like “30 under 30” are misleading; age should not define our success or when we can pursue our dreams.
Thank you for not raising the prices of sanitary pads and tampons. You’re aware that men in this country receive higher pay for military service while women are not afforded similar financial support, despite menstruation being a biological necessity that prepares us for motherhood.
Thank you for not abusing me. You know you can choose to let me return to my family if your feelings change.
Thank you for not staring or whispering about my child when they have a meltdown in public. You know judging without understanding the situation is unfair.
Thank you for not letting abusers escape consequences, justifying their behavior with calls for re-education. Justice should not be blindfolded while ignoring the voices of the victims.
Thank you for not insisting I conform to traditional femininity, like removing my glasses, wearing makeup, or donning a dress. Hiding my authenticity to avoid criticism is uncomfortable.
Thank you for not gaslighting women into thinking they are overly sensitive or dramatic. This is a form of silent violence.
Thank you for not producing clothes with inclusive sizing. It’s baffling why local fashion brands often stop at XL, forcing the need for a separate “plus-size” category.
Thank you for not pressuring me to leave my job when I became pregnant. My great-grandmother worked during WWII while pregnant, my grandmother raised six children alone, and my mother continued working up until my birth. I am as resilient as the generations of women before me, and those who follow will be equally strong.
Thank you for not censoring discussions around homosexuality, racism, and sexism. I want to teach my children that not everything can be neatly defined, even if society tries too hard to do so.
Thank you for not questioning why I never eat alone at the hawker center. Navigating with crutches or a wheelchair makes it challenging to manage food and return trays.
Thank you for not punishing me for my identity. Not everyone must align with the sex assigned to them at birth. Stop using derogatory names when I present myself as a woman.
Thank you for not being confused by my child having two mothers. Family is where “nobody gets left behind or forgotten,” not defined by traditional roles.
Thank you for not perceiving a request for help as a weakness. It simply means I need assistance—nothing more.
Thank you for adding real pockets to my jeggings. It’s shortsighted to assume all women carry handbags.
Thank you for not saying, “You’re too pretty to be smart.” The brain and appearance are separate attributes, and comparing them is absurd.
Thank you for not interpreting catcalling as a compliment. That behavior turns you into a predator.
Thank you for not urging me to sever ties with my family. Toxic relationships exist, and filial piety should not come at the cost of my well-being.
Thank you for not being offended by my choice regarding abortion. Having control over my body is crucial, just as allowing me to become a mother is.
Thank you for not telling me, “It’s okay; you don’t have to be perfect.” No one can or needs to be morally infallible.
Thank you for not questioning my choice to pursue a career typically labeled as “male.” Grammatical gender does not dictate who can hold a position; we say “policeman” without implying that only men can serve.
Thank you for not reacting negatively when I friend-zone you or decline to share my number. Living up to the title of “gentleman” is essential.
Thank you for not discussing cars, soccer, and wine with women. Many women possess knowledge in these areas; it’s just not bragged about.
Thank you for not devaluing stay-at-home mothers. Their labor is crucial, and society would be in chaos without their contributions, as evidenced by the front-page stories highlighting our reliance on foreign domestic help.
Thank you for not believing it’s wrong for me not to have children. Motherhood is a choice, and we can lead fulfilling lives without being parents.
Thank you for not calling me fat. Conformity does not equate to beauty, desirability, or even health.
Thank you for not reminding me that it’s acceptable to pamper myself. Life doesn’t always pause for those who deserve a break; everyone should learn to love themselves.
Thank you for not objectifying women and viewing us merely as sexual objects. This indicates a failure in education on the matter.
Thank you for not ignoring the contributions of women in shaping history. The Matilda Effect is a testament to the systematic erasure of women’s achievements from the historical narrative.
Thank you for not overlooking the physical, emotional, and financial challenges I face to become pregnant. The IVF journey is indeed a lonely one.
Thank you for not invading my personal space on public transport. This issue is pervasive, and no authority seems able to address it.
Thank you for asking before hugging me or my children. Boundaries matter, and respecting them is essential.
Thank you for not dissuading me from reporting an abuser. The uncertainty of living in fear is what makes it a true nightmare.
Thank you for not perceiving depression as a sign of weakness. It’s perfectly okay not to feel okay, even in moments of apparent success.
Thank you for not insisting, “Women should remain silent and stay at home.”
Thank you for not dismissing my desire to explore my life options and uncertainty about my future.
Thank you for not weighing me at the clinic. Many medical interventions can occur without fixating on a number that doesn’t fully define our health.
Thank you for not ridiculing my hair. Our shampoo brands often perpetuate stereotypes by favoring long, straight, dark hair in advertisements.
Thank you for not marketing skin-bleaching products online. True beauty lies beneath the surface.
Thank you for not harboring animosity toward women and allowing us the freedom to be ourselves. Hatred is a contamination that seeps into everything, worsening conditions for all.
Thank you for not posting ungrateful comments on social media. Life is already filled with noise; we don’t need more negativity at others’ expense.
Thank you for not organizing leadership and empowerment talks solely on March 8. True support for women comes from empathy, non-judgmental advice, and respect for their choices.
Thank you for not mocking my child for having no father. He has made the choice to be absent.
Thank you for not hosting panels with female leaders sharing success stories. Their achievements do not address the brutal struggles many women face today, and their narratives will not change our reality.
Thank you for not labeling women who advocate for others’ concerns as feminists. Many of the “you knows” mentioned here are the tears of women who feel trapped, questioning the significance of celebrating March 8 when little has changed.
Thank you for not recognizing the 52 “thank yous” in this letter, symbolizing the 52 weeks in a year. It’s idealistic to expect continuous focus on women’s rights; perhaps we could aim to foster meaningful change once a week instead?
Thank you for not grasping my sarcasm in this open letter. A “thank you” does not always convey genuine appreciation; it can also serve as a reminder of what remains unaddressed.
Stop hurting women. Start being kind. Happy International Women’s Day.
