When Did You Become a Feminist

Thanks to #banbossy and Beyoncé (and even kinda sorta Katy Perry?), it’s now much cooler to call ourselves feminists in public. Of course first props to folks like Susan Faludi, Susan Sarandon, Meryl Streep, Emma Thompson, Kelly Cutrone and Caitlin Moran for keeping the flame alive during those dreadful in-between years — it’s not a complete list, but hey, if you disagree, write your own blog! — you know, the years between abortion and, well, now.

Sorry, I didn’t see much happen during the Riot era, when lipstick, torn fishnets and a guitar made you a feminist. Though not many people were actually calling themselves feminists.What I saw was a lot of erosion of women’s rights, and what I did was a lot of apologizing for promoting stuff like NARAL and Planned Parenthood. Even I felt reluctant at times to admit to being a feminist, because I was caught between the idea that a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, and that girls just wanna have fun. For a straight girl, the former didn’t sound like a lot of fun, and the latter felt a little superfluous.

Then I moved to Qatar. I thought I was being all woohoo! Lady Powers activate. But no, in fact, it was there that I met my Inner Housewife. I’d be driving into work, hoping not to die in the insane traffic, and I’d catch myself looking at the women in back seats, being driven to or from the mall, staring into space behind Prada shades. “Where did I go wrong?” I’d wonder.

And that’s when I knew I had a problem. I either had to get on board with the idea that I was a feminist who still had Cinderella fantasies, or I could pretend those fantasies didn’t exist until I drove my husband away with my suppressed rage. Naturally, I picked the latter.

I know. Not my best move.

But in fact I didn’t know. I was too busy pretending I was a feminist. It was some time after my husband left before I even realized what had happened. I definitely knew I didn’t want to be either an angry person, or a latent misogynist. So I’ve forced myself to get acquainted with my real, outmoded beliefs. And when I want to criticize another woman for her choices, I look at what it is about me that’s getting bothered. That doesn’t mean I need to accept things I don’t like or want as part of my life, but I do need to be aware of my own hypocrisy. In other words, be the change I want to see.

So what was your moment of revelation? When did you decide to call yourself a feminist? Tell us here (I’ve disabled comments on this page.) Oh, and also if you don’t. But please come up with something better than that old, “I’m a humanist” line. Please. Are we misanthropes? The problem is the ignoring of what’s real and true.