Let’s just say, I’m a little annoyed about this view of Feminism
It’s a curious thing to hear that a young, vibrant, clever, proud, powerhouse of a woman doesn’t identify with Feminism. It’s something I just associated with those kinda character traits. It’s a fit. I was wrong.
I’m talking about my awesome friend. She’s all those things and more.
She turns heads. She shocks guys with her audacity and boldness. She loves Metal, dresses like a vixen, stuns with her vocabulary but can’t get her head around Feminism.
Let’s, for the sake of this article, call her ‘M’.
M is a knockout. She’s the friend that my male friends say ’Come on man, how could you not....?’. But she’s my friend. Simple.
Both in physicality and sexuality, she’s a goddess, but in intellect, smarts, insouciance, M packs a punch second to none.
So when her and I were spinning tales, talking talk and hanging out, I was quite taken aback that she thinks Feminism is for other women. Certainly ‘not for her’, but other ‘desperate bitches’. Which surprised me. She embodies Feminism. But without wearing a Badge. So I probed her as to the what, why, when, where and how.
You see, M’s impression of Feminism is the version that the internet has created, defined, distorted, violated, debunked and corrupted. Google Feminism and you will get it’s actual definition. You’ll also get links and videos on ‘why I hate Feminism’ as told by a man. ‘Who needs Feminism’. As rendered by.... a man. ‘It’s an organisation’, (?). ‘Female stupidity’. I could go on. And on. And..... But I don’t want to.
The Google Dictionary has it like this: ‘the advocacy of women's rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes’. So when I show this to M, she doesn’t believe me. Or Google. This definition of Feminism.
But that’s where she’s been given and informed of the wrong view of what it actually means and represents. To be Equal, Strong, Own Your Own Space, a multitude of many other great positive things and certainly not a second class citizen. Personally Feminism is defined by not owing to, or giving a shit to, or feeling like one has to give anything over to something or someone they don’t want to. For me, Marlies Dekkers and her brand, product, and imagery portray a fantastic representation of Feminism without compromise. It’s stunning.
But I do digress.
I was perplexed because M embodies these ideals, beliefs, and behaviours but the term Feminism has become an embarrassing and dirty word for her. I don’t get it.
M actually stated she doesn’t identify as ‘a self serving dyke asshole’ (WTF?).
I spoke to M of what it actually is. Of how it came to be. Of how it has enriched and empowered and given women of the ‘western’ world what they know today, allowing them to stand strong for themselves and for their own, etc. etc.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I dunno’.
It made me think of the rich old white scared male dinosaurs (slowly dying out - fuckers), that run this modern world and how they have slowly perforated silently the momentum that the 70’s celebrated and then 90’s Madonna and Janet Jackson and Paula Abdul and Taylor Dayne (those that I grew up with) and many more who fought to stand up and be them. It made me sad for some of the women today. For my daughter. That maybe the male dominant stream of consciousness again has found a way to squash us.
I told M I’m a feminist. She frowned. ‘You’re a guy’. It doesn’t matter I told her. It’s who we are and in each of us if we choose it to be.
It’s such a hopeful thing to see Feminism is alive and well, here on SG. It’s beautiful and daring, and brave and vulnerable and intoxicating and subtle.
But I didn’t press the matter that day any further with M. I could see that the vitriol of the Internet had permeated it’s way into her self esteem and sense of self and those mis-truths of Feminism had successfully broken down her ability to be a feminist.
For now. I’m not giving up talking to her about it.
How can I? She’s my friend.
