It has been six months since quarantine started, which means that it has been six months since I have had to interact with random men on a daily basis. And things couldn’t be better. I didn’t realize how good things were until I went out into the world for work yesterday. All of a sudden: men, everywhere. At first, I didn’t notice the toll it was taking on my mental health to be ogled as an object and crowded in the streets by all the men. To have to engage in the strange physical interactions that men demand of women. To be commented on by men simply for the sin of existing in public. To have men demand attention from me as I stroll down the street. But by the time I got home, I was awash with a fatigue that I hadn’t felt in months. The fatigue of being a woman in public. Even though I was all covered up with face mask, gloves, and head wrap – it still wasn’t enough to protect me from the virulence of men. I crawled back into bed, eager to hide yet again from the men of the world. I think it will be months again before I venture back out into the world. It’s not that I am not strong enough to deal with men anymore, but rather that I am too strong to let myself deal with such unnecessary unpleasantries on any frequent basis. In my world without men, things have only gotten better. I sleep better, I eat better, I feel better. My skin has cleared up, and day to day by mood has improved considerably. Six months without men has done what no diet, no exercise routine, no amount of sleep, no expensive face cream has ever done: it has cured me. And I am not going to give up this cure without a fight.