Female, Feminine, Feminist
While sitting on the back patio Friday night a conversation came up regarding feminism. It was a brief conversation, but it occurred to me that even in 2006 there are still so many misconceptions on what feminism is, and what it is not.
I can’t speak on behalf of the entire movement, and I most certainly can’t speak on behalf of the 3rd wave (what with me being just a wee bit too old to be one of those fierce little bitches, Goddess bless ‘em), but I can speak for myself.
Might I suggest stopping here, taking a bathroom break, getting coffee, and then coming back to read? Get comfy, this is going to be a long one.
Perhaps what you should know first, if you don’t know me and have never actually met me, is that I’m a rather feminine female. Look at my pictures, for Pete’s sake. I wear pink to the office so often that I’ve been nicknamed “Paris” by co-workers who like to see me snarl. I am fond of high heels and own a great many pairs in various colors and styles - although I end up not wearing most of them, my basic black pumps are my best friends. I wear make-up, have my hair highlighted, paint my nails, and even wear perfume on occasion. I’m fond of lacy underthings that make me feel sexy, even when I’m feeling grumpy; it’s rather difficult to be grumpy when you are wearing spectacular underoos. In short, I’m a girl and I rather like being a girl. And yes, I’m aware of the fact that by being this way, I do, in a sense, fall under the spell of the patriarchy. Can’t win ‘em all. We’ll blog about that another time, k? Promise.
Anyway.
It has been pointed out to me by those who know me that I also have some interesting male tendencies, but I believe most of those have to do with driving and the way I get turned on by sports cars. I am not sure if these are genuinely male traits or if people are just not used to seeing women display them.
I am not, by a long shot, anti-male. I genuinely like men. I have several male friends that I absolutely adore, although I don’t spend nearly as much time chatting with them now as I once had. And yes, I’ve heard that it’s impossible for men and women to be “just friends” but that’s crap. Debate as much as you like, but count me out of the conversation, it’s tired and worn out.
I don’t believe that men and women are the same and should be treated the same at all times. On the contrary, I know that we are different and I celebrate those differences. If not for those differences, life would be incredibly bland.
When in the workplace, however, I expect to be given as much credence as my male counterparts. I expect to be listened to, taken seriously, and treated in an equal fashion as the boys. I am very good at what I do, and I enjoy the recognition that comes with that. I also expect to be paid the same, go figure.
And at home?
The question was asked, “If you had a man to take care of you and do all of those things (things being whatever it is we women find icky), wouldn’t you rather he did it?” I’ve paraphrased the question, but that’s what I got out of it. And my answer?
Okay, take a few minutes to think about that if you must. And if you must, obviously you don’t know me very well, now do you?
Oh c’mon now, do you really need to think about that?
It’s not because anything he can do I can do better, but rather, because I have issue with dumping the crap work on anyone. I mean really, why would I dump the crap work on him? What’s up with that? I make jokes about “blue jobs” but in all honesty, there is no one particular job that I feel is “man’s work” anymore than I believe doing the dishes is “woman’s work.”
It’s all about the balance.
In a true partnership, the burden is equally placed on both people. Finances, chores, child rearing, what have you. It’s shared equally. At least it is in the ideal world. And this is far from the ideal world isn’t it?
I’ll take your silence for assent.
Would I rather to never have to do some things? Oh dear Goddess, I’d be a liar if I said no. But the thing is, I need to feel as if I’m pulling my own weight. I need to know that if the worst happens and my partner is gone, I am self sustaining.
I did the stay at home mommy thing when the kids were young. It’s hard work, and I would never diminish that work. But once they were all in school, it was time for me to move on and do new things. I taught myself how to do a few things that I thought would work for me and then I stepped out into that scary career world again.
It scared the living shit out of me. Making it through that, well, that’s another post for another time. I keep sidetracking myself here, and motherhood isn’t the point of this. The point is I did make it through, and so did my kids. And we all came out the better for it.
A huge misconception about feminists is that we want all of this control, all of this power. You know what? That’s so incredibly wrong as to be laughable. We want to be equals.
Is that so terribly hard to comprehend?
I know a lot of my readers don’t “subscribe” to the “feminist credo.” That’s cool, believe what you need to believe, believe whatever it is that gets you through the day. But let me ask you this, let me put this little bug in your brain. If you aren’t an equal, what are you? Are you a goddess on a pedestal being served, or are you the one doing the serving? Or, dare I ask, are you just sitting there waiting for your life to reboot and wondering where it went in the first place?
Girls, girls, girls, really. Wake up.
To the goddess on the pedestal: what are you going to do when you fall?
To the servant: who is serving you?
To the woman waiting for reboot: what are you waiting for?
If you are relying upon anyone to sustain you, in any way shape or form, you are denying yourself the opportunity for growth and true happiness.
And you are denying your partner the same.
Contrary to what you may think, I do not want to be the boss, I want to share that role. To be forced to always have to burden the role of provider and head of household is incredibly demanding. As a single mother I can tell you that it’s also exhausting. Why would I want to put all of that burden on someone I care about?
Why would I want to carry that load myself?
I’d rather my partner and I met on equal footing. I want us to have the same equity in the relationship. I want him to be my partner.
This is what feminism is for me. Equality. At home and outside of the home.
To the question that was asked on Friday as we all tipped our drinks and perhaps tipped ourselves: My answer is, of course, a resounding no.
Any other questions?
Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength.