I never realised I was a feminist until someone pointed it out to me.
The word had something dirty and felt only suitable for extremists and woman that burn bras, don’t shave, try to look like men and yell a lot.
Could I have had more stereotypes in my mind? I doubt it.
Could I have been more wrong? Nope!
Let’s look at the word:
feminism – ˈfɛmɪnɪz(ə)m / noun
- the advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes
Looking at this, I have to admit to myself I am a feminist. I voice my opinion in the name of equality of the sexes.
Do I like a man to hold the door open for me? Of course!
But I do not need him to do so. And in some circumstances, it is just as right for me to hold the door for the gentleman as it is the other way around.
Being a feminist doesn’t mean you can’t be spoiled by the other sex. It just means you do not have the right to expect it or get angry at the men in your life for not doing so.
That’s a small price to pay for being able to decide over my own body, voice my opinion, be spoken to by a tech or car salesman instead of only hearing the information addressed to my boyfriend, receive the same salary for the same work I do and so on.
I also believe in trying to hang up the shelves on your own, not scoff at men who wear skirts and nail polish, playing with HE-Man and SHE-Ra equally as a little girl and with Frozen characters and cars as a little boy. I believe we are stuffing us in boxes for no reason other than society thought a long time ago, that that would be more easy and certain people getting more power out of it.
I believe you can be as feminine or masculine as you like to be, because you count as a person and how you treat people around you.
Good manners are not sex-specific but just things you do because you respect another human being.
Having said this my feminist message of the month: I am a Superhero