I can practically feel the communal eye roll of my entire generation of fellow females, but just hear me out! Yes, I support the feminist causes. Of course, I believe women should be able to get paid the same amount as a man for equal work, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that a a woman should also have control over her own body, and don’t even get me started on the fact that women who need a man in their lives to feel complete are only doing themselves a disservice. I am strong, empowered, and extremely capable with or without a man by my side. I can spend whole afternoons holding my own in intellectual battles and it is no secret that my favorite past time from August till February is NFL footballs. I’m climbing the ladder in my career and I’m plan on traveling solo for the first time overseas next summer. All of these things are acceptable and expected from women in this day and age and I stand by them, fully.
Yet on the other side of that is the fact that I never wear pants in the office. I believe in a-line skirts and cardigans or Michelle Obama style dresses with flats or heels only. I enjoy buying sexy Victoria Secret panties, and have a standing appointment at European Wax for a year round smooth bikini line, but I also don’t believe in being overly promiscuous and tend to be pretty tight lipped about my sexual adventures with the few partners I have had. I can’t wait to take my future husbands last name, and, yes, just to be a Mrs. in general. Additionally I like to cook, I like to clean, I like being taken out for dinner without needing my wallet, and I know no title will feel anywhere near as important as the title of “mom” one day.
The sad part is, I’m extremely ashamed to admit any of that. Does it make me less of a feminist to say those things? Has our generation lost touch with the things that use to be the feminine norm? Can I blend both together and be accepted? How did we get to a point where saying you want to have kids someday is met with this pity and embarrassment for everyone involved? I am young, smart and talented and yet when I left Washington DC for the desert life in Arizona my mentor at the time told me “it’s such a shame because you had so much potential.” As if giving up the career only path makes you less of a woman.
But I don’t think it does! I like a man who is strong, I like it when he occasionally orders for me and treats me like we’re in a classy 1940’s wartime movie. The kind of guy who’s not afraid to grab my hand, pull me into him and kiss me without asking permission. I like a man who knows what he wants, and doesn’t apologize for it. Someone who know’s even though I make my own money will provide for me one day, out of want, not obligation. We are equals, but he still kisses me on the forehead when he wants me to be quiet and will ask my Mom and Dad for my hand in marriage before proposing. He can be honest in telling me when I need to calm down without the risk of me getting more upset. He owns a nice watch and plays pick up games with his friends on week nights, and prefers that he drive and I sit shot gun (because he’s a better driver and I’m a better navigator).
He is all these things and yet I can imagine him one day down the road, dawning a tiara and sipping tea with a little girl dressed in the pinkest of tutu’s because he’s that secure in his masculinity.
If he can be secure enough for that, then I can be secure enough in my own femininity to decree that I am an extremely feminine feminist (also not shaving or wearing a bra is for hippies cut it out) and there isn’t anything wrong with that.