#NotAllMen Is an Apology We Shouldn’t Have to Make
Why are we, as women, still being asked to soften our tone when we speak our truth?

I read a great story this morning by Octavia Morrison about how a former lover argued with her about how he should orally pleasure her, as if she didn’t know how her own body responded to sexual stimulation. I loved the story because I went through that with my former partner.
We had a fantastic sex life, except for one thing: cunnilingus. I had a very hard time speaking up for my pleasure and telling him exactly what I wanted, and when I did, he would first argue with me, then proceed to keep doing what he was doing, ignoring my requests. Time and again, he insisted that I would not be able to come if he did what I asked him to do. The pressure was too gentle, he said, and it wasn’t anything like what he saw in porn.
As I said to him many times: I know how my body works. I know how to get to orgasm.
In all the years we were together, we never broke this stalemate and as such, I never had a truly satisfying experience with oral sex.
It was both humorous and discouraging to read Octavia’s account and see that I wasn’t alone in this kind of struggle with a lover.
I noticed, however, that she used #notallmen a lot in the article, which I thought was generous. It was clear she was not talking about all men, after all. It felt like a preemptive apology for telling the story and using the term mansplaining — which was an accurate term to use.
And then when I went to leave a comment, I was stunned to find that in the short time the article had been up, there were already a few comments from disgruntled men. (I guess she saw that coming…)
One of them was a clearly misogynistic grenade flung at Octavia, accusing her of being selfish and greedy, among other things. I was stunned. There is nothing in her article that would make any sane person think such a thing. So, in fact, let’s just let that one go, because obviously this dude has some serious issues, up to and including his deep hatred of women. That shit doesn’t deserve our air time.
Another male reader mentioned that mansplaining is a “loaded term” that puts guys on the defensive. Okay, sure. I can understand the sensitivity there. But also…it happens. Mansplaining is real and it is horrible to be on the receiving end of it. Can you imagine how belittling it feels to be treated like an absolute moron? Like we don’t know our own bodies? Our own addresses? Our own opinions?
Being on the receiving end of mansplaining makes me want to sink into a hole and never come out again. Because that’s how small and inconsequential we become in such an encounter. It is a power move — conscious or unconscious — and we have every right to call out that behavior without having to apologize or worry about people getting defensive.
We shouldn’t have to apologize
Let’s be very clear that #notallmen is an apology that women feel they have to say in order to mitigate their anger, their frustration, and their truth so that it’s more palatable.
Yes, we must strive to demonstrate a precision of language that empowers men as much as it empowers women and other genders. Feminism is about empowering everyone, after all. Making statements, even in the heat of anger, that “men do this” and “men do that” is not helpful, productive, accurate, or fair. We must be very careful to relate our experiences with specific men and when we speak in generalizations, to do so with thoughtfulness. Something more like, “Many men I know,” or “Studies show that some men tend to,” etc.
We don’t have to say #notallmen when we are talking about some men or men we have known — as Octavia so precisely achieved in her article about mansplaining, I’d like to point out. We shouldn’t have to soften what we are saying, so long as we are speaking fairly and accurately. We shouldn’t have to preemptively apologize in order to fend off attacks from men who aren’t willing to look at what’s really going on here.
Defensiveness is privilege in action
When men explain that the words we are choosing or the stories we are telling are making them feel defensive, we need to have a deeper conversation. This is not about “loaded terms,” “thoughtless word choice,” or “feminism as male oppression.”
Defensiveness is about privilege and in many cases, its purpose is to protect that privilege. I do want to say that I think this is usually a subconscious response, not acted out with malice. But that doesn’t negate the damage it does.
When men tell a woman her language or stories are making him and/or all men feel defensive, that’s an unspoken bid for power. Tone it down, sister. Change your language. Change your story.
It’s also an indication that a man doesn’t want to take a harder look at the inequities being described. As I said, mansplaining is real and incredibly disempowering. Calling it by another name, pretending it’s not happening, or defining it as anything other than what it is only strips more of a woman’s power away.
I get it. It isn’t easy to face our privilege or to willingly give it up. As a white woman, I have privilege, too, and unpacking that has been a sobering and humbling journey — one I’ve only just begun.
A few summers ago, I was following a controversy on Instagram that involved a white female influencer and several black female educators and leaders. I was stunned by the angry responses from women of color many of whom spoke in sweeping generalizations about white women that made me feel incredibly defensive.
I read through hundreds of responses — some of which were horrifyingly hateful (on all sides) — and at some point, I had to close the app and walk away. I didn’t want to hear it. Somehow, I felt attacked.
But the next day, I returned to that thread and kept reading. Something inside me knew that there was truth in what these women were saying. They had every right to their rage, I understood. And that rage didn’t affect the truth of what they said. It was still accurate and I realized, perhaps for the first time, just how privileged I have been as a white woman, and how much I have failed to empower women of color.
I still fear I’m failing in that department but I know it’s my job, with the privilege that I have, to keep looking inward and removing all the cultural beliefs and biases that make me blind. I don’t have the right to be defensive. Defensiveness only keeps the cycle going. It protects our privilege.
So no, women shouldn’t have to temper our language, we shouldn’t have to edit ourselves, we shouldn’t have to apologize for speaking our truth. If you aren’t the guy we’re talking about, there’s nothing to get defensive about. If your knee-jerk reaction is to feel defensive on behalf of your gender, then it’s time to look inside yourself and start unpacking your privilege.
We deserve more than this
Our job is to speak our truth with accuracy and fairness. Our job is to call out inequity and bad behavior. Our job is to use the privilege that we have to hold a space for the people who have less privilege than we do.
As women, we can — and should — demand more than having to add #notallmen as a disclaimer to everything we say. We can demand that we take up space in which to tell our stories without apology.
And men, we can ask you to let go of your defensiveness and instead ask yourself some tough questions. Why do you feel defensive? Why do you feel threatened when a woman shares her story or uses strong and accurate terminology to describe power imbalances? Can you make space for her truth, instead? Can you protect her sovereignty instead of worrying about losing the sovereignty you already have?
We deserve to speak without apology, as Octavia so brilliantly wrote in her follow-up piece. It is as simple as that. And that’s why you won’t hear me uttering “not all men.”
I won’t keep apologizing or softening my tone. And neither should any other woman.
© Yael Wolfe 2019
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