I was lucky to grow up in a feminist family, even if I didn’t realize that that’s what we were. When I read The Beauty Myth at fifteen, and discovered the word “feminist” in its pages, I took it to my mother and waved it around like a toddler who has just discovered that playing with a particular household item is terribly fun. Look at what I found lying around the house! Did you even know how great this thing is? Look at it, Mom!

I was simultaneously confused that there was a word for this idea – wasn’t it just common sense? – and intrigued by the idea that there was more than a word, but a movement, a whole ...