Am I a Feminist?



Before everyone jumps down my throat, I am a feminist.

And what the fuck is that? Well, google sassed me out defining it as “a person who supports feminism.”

Simply put, it is someone pushing for equality between the sexes. Equal rights, privileges and pay for women shouldn’t seem like that wild of an idea and doesn’t need a negative stigma attached to it!

Unlike many other women growing up, I wasn’t exposed to too many experiences of gender inequality. My family didn’t stick me in dresses or tie my hair up in bows like a lot of girls my age, I was popped in a United kit. I wasn’t aware of any inequality between boys and girls in all the things I did outside of school either, because not only was I going to dance and gymnastics, but I was going to football, skiing, hockey, tennis and even taekwondo. Stick that up your sexist arsehole.

As a family of season ticket holders for Manchester United, every now and then I would go, and once whilst there I noticed that me and my mum were the only women in our stand. Why were there no other mums? Why were there no other girls? Everyone likes watching the football, don’t they?

Not everyone is able to have an open-minded upbringing. Some people’s folks would dress them in Disney princess outfits for Halloween (how the fuck is that spooky?) but I much preferred to thrown on a bin bag and glow in the dark fingers and be a witch that could scare all the boys and girls equally. Nice.

There were times when I would see ‘stay-at-home’ mums and get jealous. It must be so nice for them to stay home with the younger children and look after the house and be able to pick up their kids at 3:15 on the dot. We never had the chance for that in our family, my parents separated when I was young and I have no memory of my dad ever living with us. Remove the typical patriarchal figure from the household and the stay-at-home mum situation just isn’t a thing. We didn’t need a male in the house to do all the things you’d normally have as ‘dad-jobs’ like fixing busted shit, we had my mum. And she drilled in to me from a young age that regardless of gender I was strong and could do and achieve whatever I wanted to.

The school system is fucked too. Career’s advisors trying to pigeon hole the kids into things they should do because of what sex they were. The boys were allowed to talk about being footballers or engineers, and yet my dream of being a police officer was ridiculed because I was a girl. I apparently would never be tall or strong enough to join the police. Oooooo think of my nails, I’d surely break them whilst beating up some scallywag committing a misdemeanour. Oooooo I couldn’t possibly wear that helmet it would ruin my hair. Get to fuck you silly nonce.

But, it worked. I was put off from following my dream career. I followed a career path “more suited for young females” and so at 18 I joined Travelex at Manchester Airport and later moved across to Emirates and American Airlines. I hope my career advisor is happy. I moved away from the female dominated airline industry and into a much more mixed environment, and I don’t know if the combination of a male focussed hierarchy or constant mansplaining but I’ve found myself leaning towards asking the men of the office to help me recently.

OR is it that I am empowered as a woman and can play off the stereotypes of damsel in distress and get a man to change my car tyre or help me at the forecourt, reach the top shelf in the supermarket or back my cute little car out the staff car park when it gets busy.

I’m a feminist, but not a perfect one. I don’t go to marches and I’m not politically active but I know what I stand for and that is that there is no reason for men and women to be treated differently for anything. See, take your feminist stereotype of hemp wearing hairy arm pitted women and bin it.

Watch women’s football. Wear fake eyelashes and hair extensions. Work on a farm. Be an engineer. Doesn’t matter what’s between your fucking legs for jobs, pay or political rights.

And remember, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your mum’s vagina.

Lizi XX