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Rachael Eyre's Blog - Posts Tagged "feminism"
The Woman's Right to Opt Out
At the risk of sounding grandiose, this is possibly the most important blog I'm going to write. I'll go further: this might well be the most important piece I'll write, period. I regret that only a tiny corner of the Internet is destined to see it.
It's about feminism.
Don't yawn, don't scoff. When I typed 'feminism' into Twitter, I was shocked by the animosity it provokes - charming hashtags such as FeminismisAwful, SayNotoFeminism, FeminismHasGoneTooFar.
What exactly are they objecting to again?
Feminism isn't about hating men or believing women to be inherently superior; misandry is bigotry too. It's about having the right to equal pay, the fair division of labour and childcare, decent representation in the public arena. It's about women being able to participate on an equal footing with men, about being able to walk freely without being verbally abused, attacked or killed. Anybody who's threatened or upset by this should look deep within themselves and ask why.
When I discovered feminism aged twelve, I nearly cried with happiness. I'd spent so much of my early life knocking against societal pressures - why did I have to wear a skirt, why did most of the women I knew stay at home, why were some men so vile towards women - only to receive the same sad, dreary answer, "Because that's how life is." Feminism taught me that you didn't have to swallow this injustice but fight it.
Yes, we're gaining victories all the time. Emotional abuse is a criminal offence; posting 'revenge porn' of an ex partner is illegal; men can now take paternity leave. But there are mindsets that seem to be entrenched no matter what, and it's these that I'd like to call out. Women have them foisted upon them from a very early age, despite having no foundation in fact.
1) Stop suffocating little girls in pink
I mean it. I grew up in the Nineties - a far less enlightened era - yet don't remember such an insistence on colour coding our children. Go into your average toy shop and it's like gender apartheid.
"But my little girl loves pink!" adults protest.
Does she? Does she really? They're the ones who have been dressing her and buying her toys before she was able to form her own opinions. I've witnessed adults actively rewarding "feminine" behaviours and denigrating "masculine" ones - "You don't want that, it's for boys!" It's basic conditioning; it's teaching her to think: "pink= good, blue = bad." The tomboy, the blue print for so many smart, independent women, seems to have died the death.
2) Stop continuing the leitmotif into adulthood
If a little girl's wants and needs are determined by her parents, the media takes over once they're adults. Look at the 'For Her' gift suggestions in catalogues or the women's magazines sections in shops. It's back to nursery colour schemes: festoons of pink, flowers, cute fluffiness, more sodding glitter. I once saw a 'Learning to Drive' CD ROM decked out in pink and cutesy drawings, as though women were incapable of understanding the regular kind. We don't have diamanté in our brains!
If somebody wants all her accessories to be hot pink or encrusted with crystals, that's fine. But please stop assuming that you speak for all women. And while we're at it, can we please have birthday cards that don't have a shoe, handbag or cheap bubbly fetish?
3) Let us look however we want
One of the most odious publications in existence is the celebrity gossip mag. Whenever a public figure steps out looking like a normal woman - e.g. she hasn't dried her hair, she isn't wearing makeup, she's thrown on jeans and a top - it appears on the front page, expressing faux concern about her mental and physical well being. For going down the shops? Come on!
True, there's a lucky minority of women who look stunning in makeup and dresses of all cuts and hues. Some of these women are in professions that showcase this gift. But for those of us who look like Pennywise when we apply makeup, or can't walk in heels, or only feel comfortable in trousers - leave us the hell alone. We're dressing for ourselves, not you.
4) Stop interfering in our personal lives
If you're a single woman heading into your thirties, you become an object of morbid fascination for family and friends. It doesn't matter if you're fine the way you are or if you haven't the time for romance - before long they'll be engaging in increasingly desperate attempts to fix you up.
This obsession with seeing everyone paired off is a hang up from a bygone age. If a woman has children already or can support herself, she doesn't need a partner to prove her credentials.
That seems to be the message behind these ridiculously extravagant weddings, more for the parents than the couple themselves - "Look! Our kids are normal! We didn't raise mutants!" There's nothing quite as idyllic as beginning a new life with ten thousand pounds of debt. And considering how much you can accomplish if you put your mind to it, is your wedding truly the biggest day of your life?
5) Stop harping on about kids
This has to be the most toxic conviction of all: that women are walking reproductive systems, counting down to zero. It's this preoccupation that forces women to have children they're not ready for, causes them to marry louses for 'security' and gives infertile couples no end of grief.
Even more controversial is when a woman has no intention of having children whatsoever. It doesn't matter if she has valid reasons; everyone will try to shoot them down. The word "selfish" is bandied about. But what's more selfish: bringing a child you never wanted into the world and regretting them every day of their lives, or realising it holds no appeal and abstaining? If a woman can frankly assess her life and not see any room for a child in it, she has every right to say no.
Yes, there are many excellent parents who enjoyed every moment with their kids and considered it the most rewarding thing they ever did. But they presumably always included children in their life plans and made sure they had a certain amount of experience behind them first. An idle, feckless young girl isn't going to become a responsible one because a baby's on the way. Somebody who wants to dedicate her life to her career or vocation shouldn't have to take time out because convention says so.
6) Respect our feminism
Feminism seems to have become a convenient bogeyman for certain people - few of whom I'd go for a drink with. Next time somebody says, "I'm not a feminist, but ...", challenge them. Ask them what it is about living in a liberal democracy that they find so alarming. If they're a woman, patiently remind them that if it hadn't been for feminism, no one would be listening to their views.
If something offends you, speak up. You wouldn't expect to see a man's schlong while you're tucking into your egg and chips, so why should you tolerate girlie mags? Why do they keep funding these tiresome and pathetic studies that "prove" men and women's brains work differently? Why is the word "feminist" nearly always accompanied by "strident" or "militant" in the popular media? Would they describe activists for any other cause in this way?
Feminism isn't passé or a dirty word. Let women have the right to opt out of these harmful narratives and achieve lives of greatness.
It's about feminism.
Don't yawn, don't scoff. When I typed 'feminism' into Twitter, I was shocked by the animosity it provokes - charming hashtags such as FeminismisAwful, SayNotoFeminism, FeminismHasGoneTooFar.
What exactly are they objecting to again?
Feminism isn't about hating men or believing women to be inherently superior; misandry is bigotry too. It's about having the right to equal pay, the fair division of labour and childcare, decent representation in the public arena. It's about women being able to participate on an equal footing with men, about being able to walk freely without being verbally abused, attacked or killed. Anybody who's threatened or upset by this should look deep within themselves and ask why.
When I discovered feminism aged twelve, I nearly cried with happiness. I'd spent so much of my early life knocking against societal pressures - why did I have to wear a skirt, why did most of the women I knew stay at home, why were some men so vile towards women - only to receive the same sad, dreary answer, "Because that's how life is." Feminism taught me that you didn't have to swallow this injustice but fight it.
Yes, we're gaining victories all the time. Emotional abuse is a criminal offence; posting 'revenge porn' of an ex partner is illegal; men can now take paternity leave. But there are mindsets that seem to be entrenched no matter what, and it's these that I'd like to call out. Women have them foisted upon them from a very early age, despite having no foundation in fact.
1) Stop suffocating little girls in pink
I mean it. I grew up in the Nineties - a far less enlightened era - yet don't remember such an insistence on colour coding our children. Go into your average toy shop and it's like gender apartheid.
"But my little girl loves pink!" adults protest.
Does she? Does she really? They're the ones who have been dressing her and buying her toys before she was able to form her own opinions. I've witnessed adults actively rewarding "feminine" behaviours and denigrating "masculine" ones - "You don't want that, it's for boys!" It's basic conditioning; it's teaching her to think: "pink= good, blue = bad." The tomboy, the blue print for so many smart, independent women, seems to have died the death.
2) Stop continuing the leitmotif into adulthood
If a little girl's wants and needs are determined by her parents, the media takes over once they're adults. Look at the 'For Her' gift suggestions in catalogues or the women's magazines sections in shops. It's back to nursery colour schemes: festoons of pink, flowers, cute fluffiness, more sodding glitter. I once saw a 'Learning to Drive' CD ROM decked out in pink and cutesy drawings, as though women were incapable of understanding the regular kind. We don't have diamanté in our brains!
If somebody wants all her accessories to be hot pink or encrusted with crystals, that's fine. But please stop assuming that you speak for all women. And while we're at it, can we please have birthday cards that don't have a shoe, handbag or cheap bubbly fetish?
3) Let us look however we want
One of the most odious publications in existence is the celebrity gossip mag. Whenever a public figure steps out looking like a normal woman - e.g. she hasn't dried her hair, she isn't wearing makeup, she's thrown on jeans and a top - it appears on the front page, expressing faux concern about her mental and physical well being. For going down the shops? Come on!
True, there's a lucky minority of women who look stunning in makeup and dresses of all cuts and hues. Some of these women are in professions that showcase this gift. But for those of us who look like Pennywise when we apply makeup, or can't walk in heels, or only feel comfortable in trousers - leave us the hell alone. We're dressing for ourselves, not you.
4) Stop interfering in our personal lives
If you're a single woman heading into your thirties, you become an object of morbid fascination for family and friends. It doesn't matter if you're fine the way you are or if you haven't the time for romance - before long they'll be engaging in increasingly desperate attempts to fix you up.
This obsession with seeing everyone paired off is a hang up from a bygone age. If a woman has children already or can support herself, she doesn't need a partner to prove her credentials.
That seems to be the message behind these ridiculously extravagant weddings, more for the parents than the couple themselves - "Look! Our kids are normal! We didn't raise mutants!" There's nothing quite as idyllic as beginning a new life with ten thousand pounds of debt. And considering how much you can accomplish if you put your mind to it, is your wedding truly the biggest day of your life?
5) Stop harping on about kids
This has to be the most toxic conviction of all: that women are walking reproductive systems, counting down to zero. It's this preoccupation that forces women to have children they're not ready for, causes them to marry louses for 'security' and gives infertile couples no end of grief.
Even more controversial is when a woman has no intention of having children whatsoever. It doesn't matter if she has valid reasons; everyone will try to shoot them down. The word "selfish" is bandied about. But what's more selfish: bringing a child you never wanted into the world and regretting them every day of their lives, or realising it holds no appeal and abstaining? If a woman can frankly assess her life and not see any room for a child in it, she has every right to say no.
Yes, there are many excellent parents who enjoyed every moment with their kids and considered it the most rewarding thing they ever did. But they presumably always included children in their life plans and made sure they had a certain amount of experience behind them first. An idle, feckless young girl isn't going to become a responsible one because a baby's on the way. Somebody who wants to dedicate her life to her career or vocation shouldn't have to take time out because convention says so.
6) Respect our feminism
Feminism seems to have become a convenient bogeyman for certain people - few of whom I'd go for a drink with. Next time somebody says, "I'm not a feminist, but ...", challenge them. Ask them what it is about living in a liberal democracy that they find so alarming. If they're a woman, patiently remind them that if it hadn't been for feminism, no one would be listening to their views.
If something offends you, speak up. You wouldn't expect to see a man's schlong while you're tucking into your egg and chips, so why should you tolerate girlie mags? Why do they keep funding these tiresome and pathetic studies that "prove" men and women's brains work differently? Why is the word "feminist" nearly always accompanied by "strident" or "militant" in the popular media? Would they describe activists for any other cause in this way?
Feminism isn't passé or a dirty word. Let women have the right to opt out of these harmful narratives and achieve lives of greatness.
Weird Girl Notes: The Lesser Spotted Intelligent Woman
My name is Rachael and I'm an intelligent woman.
Why is my instinct to look around guiltily or expect to be smited? I write, I read widely, I love to learn. I do Sherlock scans and smash pub quizzes. Yet the instant the thought "I'm actually quite clever" floats across my consciousness, I panic. I clap concrete flippers on it and cast it out to sea.
Here's the unpalatable truth. It isn't nice. There's sure to be a chorus of noisy denials.
Women aren't meant to be intelligent. If by some fluke they are, they're encouraged to keep schtum about it. It's fine for a man to pontificate about his abilities and vaunt his vast vocabulary, but if a woman does the same, it's bad taste and bad manners.
I first noticed this curious double standard at school. I used to sit with my hand in the air, bursting with the answer, only to be ignored. The teachers were too busy trying to coax answers from the boys. Once I was even admonished for "talking too much" in a workshop. If the other (male) students remained mute, what was I supposed to do? Before you assume I had unusually chauvinistic teachers, they were mostly female.
Around that time I started going to my friends' parties, birthdays in theory but Heineken fuelled orgies in practice. I'd lurk at the edge of the action, watch as my classmates copped off with the grammar school boys. Although I was 95% certain I was as gay as a window, I wasn't ready to label myself. So if a boy slithered over and struck up a conversation, I'd reply.
After we'd swapped names and how we knew the hostess, there was a moment's silence where he tried to look seductive and I tried to repel him. It was thus I discovered the most effective cock block known to man.
"I want to be a writer. How about you?"
Any love or lust fled his eyes. You could hear the sirens squealing, "Abort! Abort!" He'd claim he needed a drink/fresh air/piss. Half an hour later I'd fall over him wrapped around another girl, presumably not a writer.
For years I thought I'd committed a gross breach of etiquette. I'd been too honest, too pushy, too immodest. These boys wanted to hoover my tonsils, not hear my autobiography. I was going to uni soon. Maybe they'd react differently there.
They didn't.
Since then, I've met girls who have been dumped for "lying" about their intelligence. Others have said that if they mention an intellectual interest during a date - writing articles, politics, law - they're jilted without explanation. One of the cleverest girls I've known studied physics at uni. As she was also the definition of a blonde bombshell, people thought she was joking when she said she wanted to be a scientist. She endured endless inappropriate comments from staff and students alike. I hope she gave them all the finger when she earned her First!
This issue is bigger than a handful of insecure, ignorant men threatened by a brighter partner. It's ingrained in our society. It's why it's successful women who overwhelmingly suffer from the imposter phenomenon - the conviction you're faking your way to achievement and one day will be exposed. It's why Nobel laureate VS Naipaul can claim that no female author, living or dead, is his equal. It's why the recent obituaries for comedian Victoria Wood and writer Colleen McCullogh focused on their appearances and personal lives rather than their considerable accomplishments.
As girls and women we are taught that nothing is more important than conformity. We can't say or do anything that upsets social equilibrium. Don't make a literary allusion or a sophisticated joke, it makes other people feel stupid. Don't contradict a man in a position of power, even when he's wrong. Never suggest you're proud of your talents. To which I say: balls.
Your brain is your most valuable asset. Use it. Whether your gift is engineering or design, do whatever you can to pursue that dream. Never hide it or feel ashamed of it. It's what makes you unique, more than symmetry of feature or superficial charm. Don't listen to that hateful inner voice saying you're showing off or you're not good enough. If anyone slights you for being an intelligent woman - well, they're not worth knowing.
Why is my instinct to look around guiltily or expect to be smited? I write, I read widely, I love to learn. I do Sherlock scans and smash pub quizzes. Yet the instant the thought "I'm actually quite clever" floats across my consciousness, I panic. I clap concrete flippers on it and cast it out to sea.
Here's the unpalatable truth. It isn't nice. There's sure to be a chorus of noisy denials.
Women aren't meant to be intelligent. If by some fluke they are, they're encouraged to keep schtum about it. It's fine for a man to pontificate about his abilities and vaunt his vast vocabulary, but if a woman does the same, it's bad taste and bad manners.
I first noticed this curious double standard at school. I used to sit with my hand in the air, bursting with the answer, only to be ignored. The teachers were too busy trying to coax answers from the boys. Once I was even admonished for "talking too much" in a workshop. If the other (male) students remained mute, what was I supposed to do? Before you assume I had unusually chauvinistic teachers, they were mostly female.
Around that time I started going to my friends' parties, birthdays in theory but Heineken fuelled orgies in practice. I'd lurk at the edge of the action, watch as my classmates copped off with the grammar school boys. Although I was 95% certain I was as gay as a window, I wasn't ready to label myself. So if a boy slithered over and struck up a conversation, I'd reply.
After we'd swapped names and how we knew the hostess, there was a moment's silence where he tried to look seductive and I tried to repel him. It was thus I discovered the most effective cock block known to man.
"I want to be a writer. How about you?"
Any love or lust fled his eyes. You could hear the sirens squealing, "Abort! Abort!" He'd claim he needed a drink/fresh air/piss. Half an hour later I'd fall over him wrapped around another girl, presumably not a writer.
For years I thought I'd committed a gross breach of etiquette. I'd been too honest, too pushy, too immodest. These boys wanted to hoover my tonsils, not hear my autobiography. I was going to uni soon. Maybe they'd react differently there.
They didn't.
Since then, I've met girls who have been dumped for "lying" about their intelligence. Others have said that if they mention an intellectual interest during a date - writing articles, politics, law - they're jilted without explanation. One of the cleverest girls I've known studied physics at uni. As she was also the definition of a blonde bombshell, people thought she was joking when she said she wanted to be a scientist. She endured endless inappropriate comments from staff and students alike. I hope she gave them all the finger when she earned her First!
This issue is bigger than a handful of insecure, ignorant men threatened by a brighter partner. It's ingrained in our society. It's why it's successful women who overwhelmingly suffer from the imposter phenomenon - the conviction you're faking your way to achievement and one day will be exposed. It's why Nobel laureate VS Naipaul can claim that no female author, living or dead, is his equal. It's why the recent obituaries for comedian Victoria Wood and writer Colleen McCullogh focused on their appearances and personal lives rather than their considerable accomplishments.
As girls and women we are taught that nothing is more important than conformity. We can't say or do anything that upsets social equilibrium. Don't make a literary allusion or a sophisticated joke, it makes other people feel stupid. Don't contradict a man in a position of power, even when he's wrong. Never suggest you're proud of your talents. To which I say: balls.
Your brain is your most valuable asset. Use it. Whether your gift is engineering or design, do whatever you can to pursue that dream. Never hide it or feel ashamed of it. It's what makes you unique, more than symmetry of feature or superficial charm. Don't listen to that hateful inner voice saying you're showing off or you're not good enough. If anyone slights you for being an intelligent woman - well, they're not worth knowing.
The Artificial Wife and #MeToo
I'm well aware that by releasing The Artificial Wife now, I'll look as though I'm jumping on the #MeToo bandwagon. In fact, when I started writing the story in June last year, it was the culmination of a personal rebellion.
I've always been a staunch feminist. I first became "woke" when I read The Handmaid's Tale as a teenager - it forced me to see that the world I lived in wasn't and couldn't be fair as long as men and women were at loggerheads.
It was appalling to learn that women had only been granted the vote within living memory, that they had been barred from being awarded degrees, that they were expected to give up work after they married. I'd already perceived that men and women were treated differently; this archaic baggage was presumably why. I felt as though Nature had played a dirty trick on me by making me female, and wondered why people didn't seem to be angry about it. I was furious.
This sense of injustice has remained with me. I've heard harrowing accounts of domestic abuse, where men have believed they own their partners body and soul. Rapes, harassment, catcalling - these are part of daily experience for women. Every girl and woman has a similar tale. Yet all too often it's dismissed, tidied away, ignored.
Two events galvanised me. The most significant, culturally speaking, was that President Trump was inaugurated, despite being a predator *by his own admission.* Never mind numerous women had accused him of sexual assault - this was somehow shrugged off. I don't think I've ever been as sickened and frightened as I was that day. The election result said to the women of the world: "It doesn't matter what men say and do. They can still aspire to be the most powerful person on earth - and you can do nothing to stop it."
Around the same time, I read Wendy Moore's How To Create the Perfect Wife. It introduced me to Thomas Day, the charmer discussed in my last blog. Although we'd like to think that we know better nowadays - that a strange man couldn't waltz in and buy two young girls simply because he was wealthy and privileged - the truth is we honestly don't know. Recent revelations have shown that once a man reaches a certain rank in society, he's untouchable. It's only now we're uncovering decades of abuse, in all walks of life.
I thought about transplanting Day's experiment to the modern day, but it felt too raw and unsubtle. By making his victims artificials, I'm saying: if you're upset by this happening to robots, why aren't you outraged when it happens to girls and women in real life?
I've always been a staunch feminist. I first became "woke" when I read The Handmaid's Tale as a teenager - it forced me to see that the world I lived in wasn't and couldn't be fair as long as men and women were at loggerheads.
It was appalling to learn that women had only been granted the vote within living memory, that they had been barred from being awarded degrees, that they were expected to give up work after they married. I'd already perceived that men and women were treated differently; this archaic baggage was presumably why. I felt as though Nature had played a dirty trick on me by making me female, and wondered why people didn't seem to be angry about it. I was furious.
This sense of injustice has remained with me. I've heard harrowing accounts of domestic abuse, where men have believed they own their partners body and soul. Rapes, harassment, catcalling - these are part of daily experience for women. Every girl and woman has a similar tale. Yet all too often it's dismissed, tidied away, ignored.
Two events galvanised me. The most significant, culturally speaking, was that President Trump was inaugurated, despite being a predator *by his own admission.* Never mind numerous women had accused him of sexual assault - this was somehow shrugged off. I don't think I've ever been as sickened and frightened as I was that day. The election result said to the women of the world: "It doesn't matter what men say and do. They can still aspire to be the most powerful person on earth - and you can do nothing to stop it."
Around the same time, I read Wendy Moore's How To Create the Perfect Wife. It introduced me to Thomas Day, the charmer discussed in my last blog. Although we'd like to think that we know better nowadays - that a strange man couldn't waltz in and buy two young girls simply because he was wealthy and privileged - the truth is we honestly don't know. Recent revelations have shown that once a man reaches a certain rank in society, he's untouchable. It's only now we're uncovering decades of abuse, in all walks of life.
I thought about transplanting Day's experiment to the modern day, but it felt too raw and unsubtle. By making his victims artificials, I'm saying: if you're upset by this happening to robots, why aren't you outraged when it happens to girls and women in real life?
