Brooke Burns

I said a lot of shit when I was in my tender years that sounds disturbingly similar to the triumphant bleating of “religious freedom” enthusiasts in the wake of the Burwell v. Hobby Lobby ruling. The phrase, “socially liberal but fiscally conservative” probably featured on my MySpace page for a shameful amount of time. I have a vivid memory of a playground discussion in 8th grade, during which I defended myself to my crush as an anti-feminist because, as I said, I didn’t hate men, I just thought men and women were too different to be truly equal. I was trying to tell him that I loved him more than Nicole, my competition, ever would but the point never came across. I had the sense talked into me by more than a few patient people, but for most of my formative years, I was a teenage anti-feminist.

What is an anti-feminist? Is it the confused 13 year old trying to flirt with a classmate?  Is it the Supreme Court justice who votes against the protection of conception and body autonomy? Is it the abortion clinic picketer trying to save the existence of a cell clump by destroying the safety of the woman harboring it? Is it the nice couple down the street who tut over the morals of young women in short shorts?

The definition of anti-feminist is complex, and there are a lot of people who deserve the label as a result of their action or inaction ...