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Coping With The Fact That I’m A Feminist

There comes a time in every young Feminist’s life, male or female…yes, male Feminists exist, when they have to finally take a bullet and admit to themselves that they are, indeed, actually a Feminist. I’m kind of joking, but if you start to make a list, which I’ve done, of all of the social/cultural factors that make this an extremely weighty identification you begin to understand why so few young people are willing to carry the movement forward under its current title.

Let’s backtrack for one brief moment and play a game of questions. Do you think that men and women should have a basic set of equal rights such as comparable salaries and access to opportunity based off of qualification rather than sex? Do you think that women should be given control over their own reproductive health and rights? Do you believe that toxic masculinity, here defined as demonstrations of maleness which are so aggressive as to be sexist and potentially violent, is damaging to our culture? Do you believe that there should be space within our culture for men and women to express themselves outside of the confines of rigid gender norms? If you said yes to the majority of these questions…then I’m over here in the corner whispering the words “YOU’RE A GIANT FEMINIST” under my breath.

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