Me: The Closet Feminist

I wrote, before I knew women had to write under pseudonyms to get their books published.

And I rode my bike, without knowing in some countries the ban on women doing so has only just been lifted.

I was a feminist before I knew of the stigma that comes with it.

I recently discovered I’d been a closet feminist my whole life. Not hiding from embarrassment or shame, but from a lack of motivation. Without the feeling I could actually change something. It hadn’t occurred to me that what I considered just to be me being overly opinionated, and a tendency to never shut my mouth, could potentially do some good. And it turned out I wasn’t the only one objecting to rape jokes, or to ‘lad’ culture, and there were others doing it with much louder voices, and there were even more who were beginning to sit up and take notice.

My savior came in the form of my mum, armed with a copy of the Guardian.

It was International Women’s Day and I’d been reading on Twitter -feeling slightly depressed there was still a need for this day, rather than just a celebration, but more importantly at that time, procrastinating from revision.

“There’s a girl in the newspaper, about your age. She’s been using Twitter for feminism. This sounds like your sort of thing”

That was my mum, and the girl was @lilinaz_evans, with the amazing Twitter Youth Feminist Army. Within an hour I was fully immersed in the world of online feminism, from an infrequent, and slightly technology-impaired Twitter user, I jumped into a domain of¬†egalitarianism and openness. A world where it is alright that I’d much rather wear waterproof trousers than shorts.

Now I’m a member of TYFA. I’ve spoken to brilliant feminists from across the world. I’ve read horrifying statistics and personal accounts that remind me, this is not a grey area, this is not something that can be debated against. And it doesn’t matter if no-one reads this blog, or even if its attacked by misogynistic idiots. Because I’ve seen what can be done, and I’ve seen what’s still to be done. So now I’m proud to say, irrelevant of whatever stick I may get from it, that I am a feminist.

3 thoughts on “Me: The Closet Feminist

  1. Pingback: Me: The Closet Feminist | fbomb

  2. I’m in my early thirties and over the last decade had been feeling more and more depressed about the society my little sister (13 years younger than me) was growing up in. Feminism seemed to be a dirty word amongst her friends, open sexism was rife, and I’ve seen the expectations of how young woman should dress and look become more and more ridiculous. Then there’s the exposure to graphic misogynist porn from such a young age… I worried for her and her generation (which I guess is you!).
    Every time I read a blog post like this, and see another young woman identifying herself as a feminist it makes me so happy! Thank god you and many others have created this resurgence. I’ve seen the change in my sister since pockets of the real and online world have started to echo the sexism she felt so alone in hating.
    Thank you for writing this, and to all the other young feminists for being… young feminists!

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