Pretty women don't need "equal rights".
Flip that script.
I was (according to my husband, I still am) a pretty, leggy blonde in my youth. I left three jobs due to harassment. First was because I came in to get my paycheck and my boss remarked, infront of the entire crew, “Bend over, baby, I’ll give you a paycheck!” The crew thought that was hilarious. There were plenty of other comments like that until I’d had enough.
Second job, a manager thought it would be funny to come up behind me and grab my chest while I was making coffee. He’s lucky I was in shock and just blurted for him to get his hands off me; now, I would smash the pot upside his head.
Third job, I was propositioned by my married boss. “You’re married!” I exclaimed, horrified. He made my life hell until I quit.
Let me be clear; work was for work, to earn money, and to go home. I was not flirty or chatty at work. I was not even remotely interested in any of these men. Being hit on by married men was not flattering; it was offensive. I did not dress in a provocative manner; I dressed professionally.
I was discounted as an airhead in STEM classes by the guys until I blew them away on tests, treated as inferior at one job until I won national awards for my work, not taken seriously in social settings until I roasted people with facts, logic, and reason. I experienced ugly behavior from women who were jealous of my looks, too. I started as a sweet girl; I adopted a resting bitch face out of necessity.
Nothing made me happier than finding a man who was attracted to my looks but also appreciated my intelligence. I was fortunate to find a number of wonderful friends and co-workers along the way. Later, I had some amazing bosses who recognized my talents, gave me entire divisions to run, and watched as I doubled their bottom line through efficiencies and risk management protocols.
The grass is not always greener. Just saying.