tw: sexual abuse, transphobia, suicide
I am an angry feminist. I make no secret of this. However, in talking with the other bloggers, I’ve learned that even amongst various feminist circles, the term has some extremely negative connotations. So I figured I’d use this week’s post to clear up what I mean when I use the title.
Let me just say that my particular brand of anger isn’t the “hulk smash” kind, nor is it the “I WILL SEEK VIOLENT REVENGE” kind. It’s the “This is wrong, so very wrong, and it needs to change. It’s not changing, and I can only do so much to help fix that,” kind of anger.
And let’s be real. There’s a lot to be angry about. So here’s my list. Here’s why I’m angry.
I’m angry because I still have flashbacks to sexual abuse that could have been prevented if my abuser and I had been a little more educated on consent.
I’m angry because abusive relationships are starting to seem like a rite of passage.
I’m angry because neither my little brother nor my grandfather understands or respects the words “no” and “stop.”
I’m angry because the wage gap exists.
I’m angry because yesterday I had to take time out of a therapy session I can’t afford to teach my therapist about the different kinds of attraction.
I’m angry because the health center at Randolph gives out free condoms, but not free lube, or even better, free lubricated condoms.
I’m angry because pads and tampons cost money. I’m also angry that people insist on referring to them as “feminine supplies.”
I’m angry because my mother does not think she’s pretty, and because she thinks my efforts to improve my own self esteem are made explicitly to embarrass her.
I’m angry about so many things, but I’m running out of room for this post, so here are my final thoughts:
I’m angry. If you’re not, then I think maybe you’re not paying attention. Come be angry with me, get royally pissed off, and then let’s do something. Maybe we can change the world.