Carrying The Feminine Mystique in my purse (I’m baaaaaaack)

In light of recent events, I have felt compelled to begin writing once again.

A decent amount of things have changed since I last wrote about my feelings, opinions, or insights of the surrounding world- specifically those regarding feminism and women’s rights.

Right now, I am simply in disbelief. I cannot wrap my mind around what is happening in the US. It feels like some shitty movie, where we have gone back in time and reversed the progress that has been painstakingly made over generations. Hard fought progress. Progress that should not be reversed.

To be honest, I thought that my minor in Women’s Studies would become obsolete. I thought that I would no longer have to be an angry feminist or need to proclaim myself as a feminist at all. I felt that I no longer needed to explain to those I dated why my minor is relevant or important. I thought that people had finally figured it out.

I have been proven wrong.

Oh so wrong.

How foolish of me to assume that one step forward wouldn’t mean five steps back.

In reading The Feminine Mystique, Sister Outsider, Not That Kind of Girl, How to Be a Woman, Female Chauvinist Pigs, The Beauty Myth, and so many more, it had never occurred to me that I would have to fight the fight that so many women before me have fought. I assumed that the war had already been won, and we were just waiting to celebrate our victory. I didn’t understand why my female professors held onto their rights and beliefs so strongly. As if they could be snatched from them at any moment. Now I understand why.

Those iconic black and white photos of women protesting, marching, and speaking with such conviction; images that I thought would not and should not ever repeat themselves.

I thought, “Finally, a world that I would want to bring a daughter into.”

I have been carrying The Feminine Mystique around with me all day in my purse. Hoping that it wards off any misogynistic vibes, or aids me in smashing the patriarchy.

I just bought one t-shirt, and two tank-tops exclaiming, “Women are strong as hell” and “Smash the patriarchy” and “Riots not diets.”

Now, I parooze Amazon hoping to get my hands on all the feminist books I didn’t get the chance to read in college.

Frantically, my mind races about all the extreme lengths I might have to go to to protect my rights, and the rights of all women, people of color, my LGBTQ brothers and sisters, and other minorities. But one thing I do remember from one of my women’s studies classes is this: women make up about 52% of the world’s population. We are the majority, NOT the minority. We cannot be divided anymore. We are female, we are strong, we are the majority, we are the resistance.

Stay woke my friends, stay woke.