It isn’t the online trolls that hurt us the most. Or the crazed misogynists on the news.

It’s the people who love us, who matter most to us, who do the things that, year after year, cool the fire in our hearts, leave us wincing at a stranger’s glance.

It’s the parent who sends their son to grad school, while expecting the daughter to come home to take care of the grandparents.

It’s the teacher overly eager to compliment the boys’ work and shenanigans, but how dare the girls make themselves seen.

It’s the boss who pays you less than half of what your male collogues make, and reminds you to smile every day.

It’s the partner who betrays your trust because he knows he’s just barely good enough, and can you really risk leaving him?

It’s the strangers who make you feel ever-aware of being seen, who make the details of your body their business.

And of course there’s that terrible tango of sexual harassment — a game of pure chance, because you can never know if that harassment will become something more — 15% of women carry the trauma of rape by the time they are 25 years old — pushing you out of workplaces, community spaces, pushing you into hiding.

There is nothing cute or silly about the gender war. We are losing with every smile we didn’t want to give.