Feminist Schiminist

I never thought of myself as a “feminist”.  Feminist is a baaaad word.  It applies to females who douse themselves in patchouli oil and don’t shave their pits.  These creatures are too busy angrily screaming about men while teaching Women’s Studies at the community college to be taken seriously.  Feminist??? Me??? Gross.

excerpt from cartoon on fashion-inspiration-by-me.blogspot.com

excerpt from cartoon on fashion-inspiration-by-me.blogspot.com

Up front, I’ll be the first to admit that I have a severe aversion to being labeled.  It makes me feel too controlled, too confined.  Something I maybe should have considered before joining drama in high school or cheerleading or competing in pageants or a joining a sorority in college.

Don’t call me a sorority girl.  I have a name.  Don’t lump me with 60 other people just because we belong to the same club.  Although, it is a pretty awesome club.

{Oh, you’re an Eata Krappa Pie???  You must be a private school girl.}

Recently, however, I’ve realized that maybe I do buy in to the beliefs of feminism.

Merriam-Webster defines “feminism” as “The belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities.”

If that’s all there is to it, why not?  Everyone should have equal opportunities as long as the bar doesn’t have to be lowered to be considered equal.

{Give me what I want.  Do it. I can’t earn it on my own so you should just give it to me because it isn’t fair that I can’t have it.  Work harder???  No.  I won’t do that.  That’s stupid.}

Don’t accept me into an Ivy League school with a subpar GPA because I’m a girl.  Make me earn it.  Let me prove I’m better than your expectation.

We grow up screaming “Anything you can do I can do better!” at the top of our lungs but then what?  Too often we stop short of proving it.

{I can jump higher.  I’m not going to show you because I don’t want to embarrass you.}

I’ve always been competitive.  I knew from an early age that whatever I did in life I wanted to be the best.  But I’m also deeply afraid of failure.  So much so that it’s crippling to think of putting myself out there.  As a measure of self-preservation I stopped trying.

{What if no one likes me, what if no one takes my ideas seriously, what if no one reads the random thoughts I piece together and call a blog?????  Ha, that’s funny.  Everyone will read my blog.}

I don’t think I’m the only one in the world who feels this type of fear.

What I do know is that I’m tired of being afraid all the time.  Who cares if I fail at something I’m passionate about?!?  Who cares what other people think.  I know I’m awesome.

I spent my first marriage trying to convince someone that I’m worth being with when I should have been convincing myself.  If I know I’m great, those who don’t can suck it.

Girls are given mixed messages.  We can be whatever we want.  We can have it all.  As long as we marry a prince.  But first we’ll have to scale an icy mountain, draw blood on a needle, survive a poisoning, get turned into a frog, and escape a kidnapper/shoe thief.  If we succeed he’ll save us from our evil step-mothers and we’ll live happily ever after.

Um, wake up, Sleeping Beauty.  Your Prince snores, he doesn’t clean up after himself, and he lives with his dad.

{Hey, Snow, I have a zit on my back that I can’t reach.  Imma need you to pop that for me after I blow this snot rocket on the shower wall that I won’t clean up because I know  you’ll  clean it if I leave it there long enough.}

I checked Snow White’s Twitter account shortly after she married Prince Charming.  It said, “Hashtag, notwhatIsignedupfor” and rumor has it she’s back living with the Dwarfs (oh, sorry… “little people”).

Here’s my point: as a woman, we will always have to work harder for less.  There is no amount of shouting that can change it.  When we fought to enter an equal workforce we didn’t stipulate that we wanted to work in place of caring for a family.  The family duties are still there.

We are inundated with the opinions of everyone else.  You’re horrible if you work outside the home.  If you don’t work outside the home, you don’t work the “right way”.

Women judge other women.  Women judge themselves.  Women look to men to solve their problems and we all know that just creates worse problemsGenerally speaking, men create the problems that only women can effectively clean up.  It’s like asking a muddy dog to mop the floor.

Stop.  It.  (that’s what she said)

Also, stop priding yourself in how much you can take on.

{I founded the “Women Who Are Better than You Because They Multitask” Club.  I run 2 companies, have 4 kids, AND I go to night school for my PhD.  Thaaaaat pretty much proves I’m better than you.}

I have 2 kids, I work full-time, I coach cheerleading for 4 months out of the year, I have 2 dogs, and I’m married.  AND I’M EXHAUSTED.  There are days that I don’t think I can do it all.  There are days I don’t want to do it all.  I am grateful for my job but there are days I resent it.

{I noticed you were out with a sick child last week.  You are missing too much work.  Can’t your husband help?}

Truth is, I don’t want to be considered equal.  I want to be considered awesome.  I’m done trying to be perfect and I’m done trying to be better.  Look at how happy Elsa was when she “Let it Go”.

I’m just gonna Keep Calm and Stay Pretty.  Cuz THAT I can do.

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