At first glance, my world seems feminine. My friends are mostly women, I mostly have colleagues and my boss is also a woman. My closest family relationship is with my sister. The migrant community in which I grew up consists almost entirely of women. And when I was little, they called me a “mama’s boy.” When I open my messages on my phone, I have to scroll to find a man’s name. The second or “other sex” as the French philosopher Simone de Beauvoir calls it, is for me the first.
