Some Days, I Wish I Wasn't a Feminist

Before I jump into today’s topic, if you have not already seen my VLOG explaining what feminism is, you should check that out at the bottom of the home page. That way, we all have a clear understanding of what feminism is.

I know that this may come as a surprise for some of you, but I am a strong feminist, and I am not ashamed of that fact. I am always ready and willing to discuss the political, cultural, and social systems that oppress women and everything we need to do to fix it.

But, sometimes, I wish I could go back to the days when I wasn’t a feminist. Before you write me off as a traitor, join me in a walk down memory lane.

Do You Remember When…

Can you remember the days when you could go to a friend’s birthday party without ending up in a heated discussion about the wage gap?

When was the last time that you watched a movie without wondering if it passed the Bechdel test?

Remember when you could hate country music because it is repetitive and dull instead of hating it because it objectifies women?

Do you remember when you could wonder what your crush thought about you without feeling like you are being a bad feminist?

What about the times when you could go to a comedy show without having to research how many sexual assault allegations the comedian has against him?

Ignorance Was Bliss

Those were the good old days. Of course, I know that everything that is wrong with the way women get treated was still happening back then, but I was blissfully unaware of it.

Feminism will probably be the hill that I die upon, and I will do so gladly. I guarantee that I have been uninvited from more than a few parties because my friends got tired of apologizing for their crazy feminist friend, and I would gladly exchange those parties for the liberation of women. I am so passionate about bringing awareness to these issues and calling out misogyny every chance I get. But, sometimes, it gets exhausting.

Now that my eyes have been opened, I see misogyny everywhere. Sometimes, I can make a simple statement to address it, and we can move on. But other times, my simple opinions feel like they start a war. And, friend, I am battle-weary.

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Becoming a social justice warrior was the act of lifting the weight of the world onto my shoulders.

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I carry with me the silent tears of every rape survivor, the painful winces of every woman who has been the victim of abuse, and the angry roars of every woman who has worked twice as hard as a man for a fraction of the pay. I do everything in my power to give them a voice, but sometimes I long for the days when I did not know their pain.

I wish…

I wish that I could believe my nieces will grow up in a better world than I did.

I wish that I could trust every man that I meet, and I could fearlessly walk the street, no matter the time of day.

I wish that my friends could talk to their husbands about their emotions, instead of hiding their feelings from their husbands and turning to me as their outlet.

I wish that I could work on my flaws when I don’t earn that promotion, instead of knowing that the only reason I didn’t get it was because of my gender.

I wish that every child, male, female, or otherwise, could have access to education, healthcare, and safety.

I wish for a world where women did not accept the expectation that we will be assaulted and abused as inevitable.

Sometimes, I wish I could go back to my ignorance and unawareness of the atrocities that women everywhere face. But more than that, I wish that we all lived in a world where feminism wasn’t necessary.