It’s been a beautiful week, both in weather and in my good fortune, but I’m angry.

A gorgeous woman wakes up every day with a thought toward success, a thought toward goodness, and sure, a thought toward getting through another day. Honestly, it could be a man, but because of the way it turns out, it happens to matter that this person is a woman.

She’s a reporter. She has always been told that reporters tell the truth, that they should avoid any sort of personal relationship with those about whom they report. So when a man begins crossing that line, as any good reporter would do, she tells her editor, and he tells his adviser. But they don’t believe her, despite her years of loyal service to the paper, despite her experience, despite her reasons for protecting the reporters who follow her. Why?

Because — God forbid — she cried when she realized they didn’t see her side. She was frustrated that the people she trusted in turned against her, because although she had never complained over anything in the years she had worked there, they said she must be over reacting.

Women are not asking for world domination. We are not asking for college scholarships that belong to equally qualified men. We simply ask that men take us seriously, that they consider our testimonies as truth and look into our suggestions as something valid.

All I can say is, thank god the job I just accepted is supervised by a woman.