A stand against misogyny
“This election, we must demand better. We must vote not just with our hopes, but with our memories — remembering the times we were silenced, diminished, disrespected.
Daily Tribune“This election, we must demand better. We must vote not just with our hopes, but with our memories — remembering the times we were silenced, diminished, disrespected.
Misogyny isn’t always loud. Often, it creeps in through jokes, backhanded compliments, and dismissive glances. But whether subtle or shameless, it always does the same thing: degrades women.
Lately, our news feeds have been polluted with stories of candidates for the upcoming midterm elections making vile, misogynistic remarks. Each headline stings — not just because they expose who these men really are, but because they resurface wounds many of us have tried to bury.
Consider Pasig congressional candidate Atty. Christian Sia, who brazenly invited single mothers to “sleep with him.” Or Misamis Oriental Governor Peter Unabia, who claimed that only “beautiful women” deserve nursing scholarships. These are not just inappropriate jokes or political gaffes. They are painful evidence of a deep-seated misogyny that permeates our society.
I used to think being educated, accomplished and articulate would shield me from such indignities. I was wrong.
At the wedding of a law school classmate, I had a disturbing encounter with a high-ranking official from a government-owned corporation. I was a new lawyer then — idealistic, eager and proud of the hard work that had brought me that far. He approached me under the guise of mentorship, speaking of a “window of opportunity.” But his real intent became quickly, unmistakably clear. It was an invitation — not to a job or project — but to something deeply personal and profoundly demeaning.
At that moment, my voice vanished. I was stunned, humiliated. The exchange may have lasted just minutes, but the power imbalance it exposed haunted me for years. I began to hesitate around male officials, wary of hidden intentions, afraid to seem “difficult” or “overreacting.” I carried the shame in silence.
But this is not just my story. It is the story of countless women — women in offices, in factories, in classrooms, in households — facing daily battles against a culture that tells them they are less worthy, less credible, less human.
And so I ask: if women with degrees, careers, and support networks can be reduced to silence, what happens to those without such armor?
Thankfully, change is stirring. More women are speaking out, refusing to normalize misogyny in any form, especially from those who seek to represent us. This courage is contagious — and powerful. It’s the foundation of a new political standard: one where integrity, not insult, is the currency of leadership.
We cannot afford to elect men who demean women. Misogyny isn’t just a private failing — it’s a public danger. It shapes policy, warps judgment, and reinforces the systemic barriers that hold women back.
This election, we must demand better. We must vote not just with our hopes, but with our memories — remembering the times we were silenced, diminished, disrespected. And we must stand together to ensure that no woman ever has to face those moments alone again.
Uprooting misogyny from politics isn’t just about gender equality — it’s about human dignity. Let’s build a government that reflects the respect we all deserve.