You’ve heard the statistics: 40% of women are the primary breadwinners of their home, if women got paid equally as men the US economy would double, etc. These statistics are irrelevant.

Women don’t deserve equal opportunity because “it’s good for our economy” or “good for their children” or “good for their family.” A woman’s value isn’t dependent on her relationship to her children, family or country — a woman’s value is inherit in her, simply for being a human being. This notion that women are valuable because of their association with someone else, is a contributing factor to rape culture. Unless we realize a woman’s inherent value, not just in our hearts but through our actions, our culture will continue enabling men to feel entitled to mansplain, dock a woman’s pay, harass her and force themselves upon her. We need to look inward and do some serious soul searching as a culture, and as men.

Even the most well-intentioned fail to fully recognize this, I myself often invoke my mother when making the case for why women deserve equal pay. Women don’t deserve equal pay because they had to raise kids like me on their own, they deserve equal pay because they are equal. Period.

The sad thing about men and people generally, is that many of us turn a blind eye and deaf ear to the objectification of others — until it happens to us. Since the beginning of my campaign, many have objectified and sexualized my candidacy. Many have been fixated on my looks and identity and have silenced my ideas, it stops being flattering when people start to tell you to “stop talking, just stand there and be nice to look at.” This is all but a fraction of what women go through every day, or how they feel when they are constantly objectified by men who feel entitled. Men need to do better and be better, starting with me.

Recently, I sat down to write a letter to my mother and I would like to share it with you.

Dear Mom,

Thank you for being both mom and dad throughout the years. You've always been there for me: as a colicky baby crying from a car seat, as a toddler who never believed in diapers, a second grader who hated waking up and got car sick on the way to school, a rowdy middle-schooler, an angsty teenager who rebelled and nearly flunked high school, to a struggling college student, a young professional who decided to leave you and chase my dreams in Washington, and now as a grown man running for congress.

You might not know this, but I remember seeing you cry when I was nine... the only time I ever saw you cry. There you were, sitting in bed, looking at a pile of bills on the night stand helplessly. I remember seeing you playing the saddest game of solitaire -- stacking bills behind others, knowing you couldn't pay them all and trying to figure out what we could live without for a month -- internet, water, or food. We had to do homework, we had to shower for school and we had to eat.

That struggle feeds me till this day mom -- you're unwillingness to quit on us still feeds me, and is why I don't quit on myself or others. You showed me, through a divorce, a broken heart, being broke, through working as a receptionist for a family doctor, applying for work at grocery stores, and now working and thriving in real estate -- that you can dust yourself off and start again, and that there's dignity in a hard day's work, that your work doesn't define you, it reveals you.

I'll never forget how you inconvenienced your life for mine. Whether it was interrupting work and explaining to your employers that your son needs to be driven home from school, to soccer games, to church and band practice. Or, choosing to live in a war zone just so your boys can have a father. You taught me how to work hard, but more importantly, you showed me how to love insanely and unconditionally. For that, I thank you.

You're my friend, the reason I can show friendship to others, you're like my sister, the reason I have a brother that I love like a son, and my one and only mother. I hope I've made up for all the lost time, all the heartache, the wounds and worries, fear and uncertainty during our years together. I hope you're proud to have me as your son, because I'm proud to have you as my mom. Forever, together.

I know I'll never be able to repay you, but I can make this promise to you. I promise you mom, that someday your granddaughter will have it easier. Her life won't be harder just because she's a woman. I'll fight until my last breath to make sure her life is fairer, her opportunities are more equal, and rights more protected. I promise you to let no one, especially no man, rob her of the progress your generation fought and sacrificed for.

Today, I am running for congress to fight for my mother, all women and the women of future generations.

If elected, I will stand up for:

• Fair and equal wage / equal opportunity for jobs
• Women's Reproductive Rights/Women's Healthcare
• Fighting violence against women
• Strengthening Title IX and educational opportunities for women