Twas the night before the due date. Every student has been there before. When the deadline is coming for you and the word count is looming and the ideas are stuck in your head somewhere behind thoughts of puppies and weekend plans. My drafts were scattered all over the table. The girl across from me was crying her way through math tutoring. I felt similarly. After an hour of deleted sentences I resorted to the forbidden place: google.

Women in 2018.

I needed something eye-catching. A feminist movement sweeping North Dakota or an impending strike at the Oscars would be my engaging starter. Instead, I found a list of upcoming conferences hosted by big names like Forbes and the United Nations. Grand events in New York City and Paris with star-studded guest lists and incredible agendas. Further down the list were powerhouse athlete rosters, female Olympic hockey and tennis and track and field. Then came the news features. “Suffragettes 100 years on” from BBC, “Fearless: Five Years after Delhi Gang Rape” from The Guardian. There were images of mixed race female authors and Britney Spears covered in glitter. The possibilities were endless. And then I saw it. The one liner ad at the bottom of the page that got pen to paper.

Bad Girls in your Area. Take A Look. It’s 100% free.

Google is not a person. No one soul can be held responsible for ad content. There was no short haired intern with a gold stapler and millennium pink nails who typed it out. No Armani-suited editor who demanded it. It is business. Ad space is sold and the money tree grows greener. Do we blame capitalism? Do we blame the human craving for sex? Do we blame the search engine algorithm? Do we blame ourselves for not just scrolling onward?

I needed a break. My story was not going to become a capitalist rant. I googled Pizza Hut. The first listing was Domino’s with the little ad icon.

I thought this story would be about women. A compelling narrative of my sorority sister Hannah and her trip to the Orlando Women’s March. I was going to link her story to the upcoming Oscars. The sea of black dresses and Hannah’s story of empowerment would speak to the State of Women in 2018. My conclusion would have called us united, a force for change. But this can’t be that story. Nonfiction has one requirement: be true. While that bubbly piece about breaking the glass ceiling would have satisfied, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I could not keep scrolling past the truth staring me in the face.

Who were the bad girls in my area? I knew more than a handful of girls who would qualify. Something told me the crying girl with the lollipop in her mouth across from me might. I would too. But our pictures aren’t out there for 100% free perversion. Except they are. My Instagram is full of flirtatious smiles. My Snapchat has seen its fair share of pre-party cleavage. The notebook in my bag with two lists of names tells even more. One list of people I’ve kissed. The other of people I’ve slept with. The sheer fact that I keep a list qualifies me. So what?

Women have sex. This wasn’t the mic dropping truth I had in mind. But what was it? What made this little ad at the bottom of my search so significant? What is the truth here?

The truth is I was upset. I was angry that the headline most worthy of my writing was a sex ad. I was upset that my soundtrack to writing this piece was “Bad Bitch” by Bebe Rexha. I was upset that Google takes no responsibility for their role in sexism. I was upset that I was one of the “bad girls.” I was upset that being a bad girl didn’t feel empowering. I was upset that Instagram and Snapchat adore my cleavage. But I was the most upset at not being able to tell Google’s algorithm to come at me, bro. The truth is it only came to make money.

This is the moment where I realized my story became a capitalist rant. I also realized I never ordered pizza. I wish that the State of Women was one of progress and clean cut reporting. But, if I am to deliver the truth, the State of Women is a bunch of bad girls holding cardboard and sharpie signs who are fed up with the bullshit.

So, Google if you’re watching, which we all know you are, here is a new idea. When I type Women in 2018, the ad should read as follows:

Badass Women in your Area. Take A Seat and Listen. It’s 100% Worth It.

-Written by Kaitlyn Kocsis