Hello my people. I know that I said a (freakishly) short time ago that I am on hiatus due to the fact that I am writing a ✨book✨. However, I ended up finishing the writing extremely fast (I couldn’t stop once I started, much to the disgruntlement of my parents, hehe). Ze publishing will take place later.
And so, I am back!
Yay! (I missed my blogue).
And I have finally decided to write something based on feminism, seeing as I am the feministwriterwhogoesmeh!
So many exclamation marks!
My friend sent me a video yesterday. It was a woman explaining feminism to people who didn’t identify as feminists. Here it is:
And then my friend reminisced about a time when our history teacher asked our class the following question:
How many of you identify as feminists?
And guess what?
I was the only person in the entire class to raise my hand.
That was very interesting for me, because I have had conversations with many people in my class about feminism and how they identify with feminism, etc. etc.
Perhaps they were ashamed of identifying as feminists? Perhaps they were scared about what people might think of them?
Well I for one have never given two craps about what people thought about me, and I will never give two craps about what people think about me.
I am proud to say that I am a feminist.
But wait, let’s not go on to judge those people who didn’t raise their hands. Maybe they were hesitant because others do not understand the notion of feminism.
So I come to what this long winded rant was supposed to be about in the first place: What does feminism mean to me?
Before we ask this, we must know the definition of feminism.
This ain’t so complicated.
Now, what feminism means to me.
To me, feminism is the idea of equal opportunities. It stands for being, unabashedly, a woman.
Now, I’m not going to delve into some long winded discourse about what feminism means to me (this entire thing is long winded already). In fact, I invite y’all to continue this conversation in the comments.