I had no idea I entered controversial territory with my last post. Eating lima beans with ice cream? Practicing the ancient art of fire swallowing while performing cartwheels? Okay, I’d expect controversy there, but I guess in my naivete I thought all of us disliked the system and perhaps tolerated it simply because the status quo is easy to accept. OK so I lived in a bubble, but it was a warm and cozy one and up until last Wednesday when it effectively popped, it was perfect with just the right tint of blue bubbliness. Another result from the post is intimidation, I mean what on earth do I write about next? My post on pulling weeds this weekend just isn’t going to cut it! I’ve never written purely for the sake of controversy and comments, so the incredible response shouldn’t intimidate me… but it does. So in case I end up unable to form another semi-coherent, pseudo-eloquent statement ever again, and this be my last post as a result of said intimidation, please know that its all your fault. (No really, just kidding, don’t stop commenting, me likes, really!)
Speaking of the last post, there are two words I’m often “jokingly” called when I talk about the struggles of women: feminist and femnazi. The last post triggered one of those words and I can’t help but think.. If I speak of the treatment of refugees, Im not termed refugee lover.. If I speak of prejudice, I’m not chided as a stereotype hater... Injustice, Inequity, generally speaking, is okay for me to address.. prevents labels placed upon me. So why does speaking about issues affecting half the human race term me a femnazi feminist?
I don’t think of myself as a feminist because I disagree with what the word implies by those who so label. I dont hate men… I love getting flowers… I adore cooking and lately even baking.. manicures are luxurious, high heels are essentials… and my favorite color is pink. A feminist? Seriously?
I loathe labels. They define us with a cursory glance and without our consent. But I can’t deny that labels stick only if I don’t peel them off, allowing them, and not me, to define myself.
If I happen to dislike that we’re often treated like cattle, raped and then jailed, burned for the sake of money and not allowed a chance to live, if that’s the definition of a feminist then your label, I wear proudly.
“I myself have never been able to figure out precisely what feminism is. I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat.” Rebecca West