One fell swoop.
I just like grey areas so much better.
Like, that's why I dislike organized religion, or political rhetoric, or gender roles.
That's also why I hate feminism.
Yet another standard has been set which I can not reach.
Yet another box I have to prove I belong in.
For example, today I was planning my meals for tomorrow and I knew my coworker would ask what I brought.
I'd reply "Veggies and Quinoa, I'm making up for Fourth of July!" I imagined.
See, I have had 24 years of being socialized to watch what I eat. To reprimand myself for what I eat.
I have spent years watching women bond over their anger that someone brought donuts for everyone. Years watching women walk past a dessert and sadly say "I'm trying to be good". Years watching women say "I'm gonna be bad" as they stuff the chocolate peanut butter caramel bar into their mouth while their eyes roll around.
I have learned to replicate this.
But I'm also a feminist so I love my body no matter what. I don't subscribe to society expectation of how my body looks, I have to remind myself.
Dang it, now not only am I fat but I hate myself for caring/noticing that I'm fat.
And I'm ashamed I vocalized it.
Sometimes I will go to shave my armpits with an electric beard trimmer and then remember I'm meeting my woke friends for lunch. I know they will ask why I shaved my armpits, if noticed. Perhaps my boyfriend doesn't like them, their eyes suggest?
Perhaps I'm really not feminist enough for the feminist club.
I can hang as well as the rest of them, so I put the beard trimmer down.
Overtime, I feel trapped by feminism. Now stuck between what is expected of me from society, and what is expected of me from radical and academic inter-sectional feminism.
All the while, shaming myself for even being affected or torn in the first place.
But I'm a feminist sociologist. I know better. I shouldn't care that my eyebrows aren't done at this pool party.
Another short coming.
I sit at a brunch table, my speech being policed as I am reminded the new correct terms= yes and the old adjectives= no. I am reminded of when my speech was unacceptable in church or at the family dinner table.
I am reminded of my loss of choices.
I am reminded your way of doing things should be my way of doing things.
And my feminist card depends on it.
The hypocrisy of inclusivity without a shared definition swirls around me; each college educated person taking a stab at it with 4 syllable words I had to look up two years ago but have since forgotten a more rudimentary synonym.
Crabs in a barrel, I climb over others, holding my oppressions in my hand, hoping they buy me a ticket out of my privladge.
Who is feminist enough to be a feminist when anyone can be, right?
