March is going to be a beautiful month; I level up (ringing in the last year of my 20s as another candle is added to my cake). On top of that grand event, we are also celebrating women’s history month: a rabbit hole I can easily shimmy down for hours at a time. I had big plans for February, but found them waylaid after a car crash left me hurting more than I care to admit. While I am still far from 100%, I am desperate to get back into my regular life, and my soul has been aching to write. This seemed like the perfect opportunity to dive back in.
Women’s contributions to the world are often overlooked and underappreciated. The advocacy for the female sex is typically demeaned and condemned. Women are underrepresented in the entertainment world, which hit particularly close to home as a writer. We are the ones with the power to sway perception and portray a deeper truth; we must live up to the challenge.
I am a feminist, and I do not apologise for this fact, although many decry my choice. I have faced the violent verbal vitriol that many who hold my views have had spat at them. I remember the day that a man told my little sister that women should understand that their place in the world is that of a dog. I remember the day that a man told my mom that if he paid for dinner and he wanted sex, then he would get it. I remember the first time I was afraid for my safety because of my gender- an occasion that has arisen more times than I can count. I remember hands touching my body when they had no right to be there, I remember the way my heart pounded in my chest as I tried to react. I remember the first time a friend of mine cried to me after admitting she had been sexually assault. And I remember the friend after that, and the friend after that. This is why I am a feminist; because I believe that I should be able to go for a jog in my own neighborhood without a weapon or large dog.
I believe in feminism because I believe that all people should be treated as equals, no matter your gender, race, age, sexual orientation, or any other societal demographic we are labeled with. That’s really what feminism is all about- equality. It’s about the privilege of self-determination and personal autonomy. It’s about being able to decide how I want to live my life; whether that means dancing backwards in high heels through the corner office, or playing patty-cake with a chubby-cheeked cherub who shares my eye color. Its about living your life as you see fit.
Are there issues within the movement; absolutely, it is a human invention and is therefore inherently flawed. It is discouraging how portions of the movement espouse the very privilege that they are trying to point out. The traditional story that you hear is the plight of the middle class white woman, and yet the struggles that women of color faced were crucial and should not be ignored. I am a story teller, and these are the stories that must be told. As they say, my feminism will be intersectional or it will be bullshit.
I don’t have much to offer the world, but I have my stories. I don’t have a big platform, but I have this little rock to stand on; I think it will do nicely. This month we celebrate strength and diversity because they go hand in hand. I hope you are brave enough to join me down this dangerous path; the stories of our past will shine a light on our future, the tales of our heroes will inspire our own souls to greatness. We must never forget the roads we have travelled and the stories we have heard, because these are the things that change worlds.
Tipsy Typer 