craftykarategirl:

When I was young, you were a feminist.

I have your last name, not my father’s.  I will outwit this generation of sexism, my “ownership” will not pass from father to husband, for I have not my father’s last name, and I will not take my husband’s. My ownership is my own, and always will be.  I hold the property rights to my own body and life, inviolably.

When I was young, I had no interest in your feminism.

I want to have kids, I want to have a fairytale romance and wear pretty pink dresses my whole life long, I’ll happily let the men stay in politics, I don’t care!  Whenever the subject of the next generation came up, and you’d carefully add at the end of “when you have kids” a moderating clause of, “if you decide to”, I’d brush it off and be faintly annoyed. Of course I’m going to have kids. Is that even a question, Mom? C’mon.

When I was young, you, my best friend and I,  talked about societal issues sometimes.

We had a conversation once  about Olympic beach volley-ball uniforms, that we reminisced about today.  And I found that I actually cared, and that now I know why.  And I’m sorry I couldn’t find it in myself to care until now, but I think you’d be happy that I finally found it.

When I was young, I thought I could live my dreams, I thought that the image I had in my head was going to be perfect and that I could just go live it, that nothing would get in my way.  That I wouldn’t get spit on or whistled and honked at, that the images wouldn’t affect me and I’d stay happy with my body, that I could just do what I liked, that society would never affect me.

But that’s not true.  When I will not get paid as much as my male colleagues, when the glass ceiling hovers over my head.  When I will be held up to a double standard and found lacking on every point.  I cannot live my life to my own satisfaction if I will not be allowed to do so in peace.  When I will not get enough paid maternity leave, when I know that my income will increase exponentially for every year in my twenties I wait to have children.  When female politicians are shamed for their physical appearance while men sign away our reproductive rights, denying abortion even for rape and incest.  When it is taboo for a woman to have sexual desires, when sex has to be one man and one woman trying to procreate, with no acknowledgment of mutual pleasure, and over-restriction on birth control for women.  When so many women are starving themselves, when we are told all we are good for is having children, and then not supported as mothers, not given adequate resources or childcare or opportunities, then having the wage gap blamed on us for “opting out” of working. Bullshit. All bullshit, that we shouldn’t have to put up with. Why should we?

I rebel. I refuse to live this closed path you are setting before me.

Maybe that’s not what I want.

And though I know I cannot change the system on my own, I am not comfortable with the state of my own rights and place in the world. I will not be told that I am to be treasured and protected, I will not be told I am to be hidden away.  Perhaps I will not lead the life I want, perhaps I will not attain the job I desire, but I will fight. I will fight until I see a world with women in equal positions of power as men, a world where men and women are equally unafraid of being themselves and not being oppressed or judged for what is under their clothes.  A world in which I can truthfully promise my children, be they sons or daughters, that they have a fighting chance of growing up to be happy, productive, and moreover, equal citizens.

So yes, I am a feminist, because I have discovered that this will affect every human being on this earth, whether you are socially conscious and stand up or lay down and take it.

And I am standing up. I am tired of taking it, day in and day out.

My decisions and my life are my own, now let me make them and live it on my own terms.

 -

That is why I am a feminist.

Hate me. Judge me. Unfollow me. Go for it. I believe this as truth, and you won’t change that.

(via artemariposa)