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A separate class?
If I want to dance with you, I’m a follow, because it would just be weird to lead you.
If I want health insurance, I have to tell you about my sex life. No, I’m not pregnant.
I nest. Apparently it’s an instinct.
My voice will never carry like yours does.
If I want children, it’s my body that will carry and nourish them. They will become my life. My life is over. It’s now our life.
You are the sun, I am the moon. Emotions swing with the tide. I bleed to bring you life.
I hear there’s a battle that’s been waged since the beginning of time. Between the sexes. Between you and me? I have to fight with you? You know I’m supposed to win, right? I guess we’re not meant to understand each other. I don’t understand myself, sometimes.

What does that mean in the modern world?

A different class?