I am pink. With lace and sparkles. Glitter, flowers, soft and quiet. I am feminism.
I am fiercely independent. I am proud. I am accomplished. I am intelligent. I am feminism.
I am fresh baked cookies. I am time spent with children. I am ruffled aprons. I am feminism.
I am a driven career woman. I am a friend. I am a sister. I am a human being. I am feminism.
I am confident. I am insecure. I am sweatpants and ball gowns, swim suits, and sweater sets. I am feminism.
Feminism as the equality of the sexes.
But in practice. Allowing individual human beings to CHOOSE what is right for them.
Feminism is not a set of rules. It’s not a condemnation of men. It’s about respect, between men and women, and the acknowledgement that we are all given unique gifts and talents, hopes and dreams. And that these are all valid, regardless of sex or gender.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve known that someday I want to be a mother. I want to be a mom in every traditional sense of mommy-ness. And for a while, I felt actually felt guilty about wanting this. I was under the misconception that wanting this, wanting to fulfill a role traditionally assigned to women made me a bad feminist.
I am an intelligent, independent, accomplished, young woman. I am capable of supporting myself. I am capable of having an incredible career. I’m capable of being the woman that rejects all traditional gender roles.
But that isn’t what I want. There are people who will tell me that this is because I’ve been beaten down by a patriarchal society. And this is tricky, because maybe that is why I want to be a mom. But to me, feminism is respecting the choices of all human beings. Professionally, personally, socially, sexually.
Therefore respecting and honoring all aspects of myself, goofy, girly, geeky, and gritty, is how I am feminism.