Femininity

Thanks to the reference of a friend, I encountered this gem of a blog: http://truefemininity.blogspot.com/

I can't imagine any subject material more antithetical to what we're doing here at Fornicating Feminists. It's almost hard for me to take her seriously; she's so very earnest about her desires to be a housewife.

I don't mean to demean that position either; while I might never have kids and certainly have ambitions to spend most of my life working outside of the home, I recognize that it is a huge amount of work to create a home environment that is loving, safe, clean and to raise children while maintaining an ounce of sanity.

However. The very title of her blog implies that there is one true concept of femininity, and the brief introduction I've had to her writing illustrates that it's an extraordinarily narrow concept at that: Christian, child-bearing, home-schooling, subservient, people-pleasing, and of course, hetero-normative. What about infertile women? Or Jews? How about career women? I won't even waste my time wondering about how this applies to gay/trans/queer folks, because clearly she doesn't.

Spewing this kind of hate (and yes, it is a form of hate that permeates through the way she talks about feminists and even women as a whole) just makes me sad. Women are so wonderful and expansive and there is so much more to femininity than people-pleasing (and if I may be so bold, I think the mere variety of women on this earth is evidence enough that God agrees with me).

As the Patron Saint of Feminists, Eve Ensler, wrote in March 2010's Glamour Magazine, "The act of pleasing makes everything murky. We lose track of ourselves. We stop uttering declaratory sentences. We stop directing our lives. We forget what we know. We make everything OK rather than real."

That last sentence gives me chills. Life is far too short to let yourself exist in way that's less colorful and passionate and full than you deserve because you want to make everyone else happy first in a misguided religious goal.

Real femininity, to me, is complicated and messy and passionate. My femininity wears combat boots and dresses and shaves when she wants to; brings you a cup of tea when you're sad and rubs your legs when you're tired. Real femininity means saying "hell yes" to the things that tickle your heartstrings, regardless of how other people feel about them, and "no thank you" instead of overextending and taking on just one more burden for someone else. It's carrying your own luggage and opening the door for other people and paying your share. My femininity is warm hugs and tough compassion and being there for the ones you love. It's being in control of my sexual health and being knowledgable and responsible for myself because no one else will do it, and also strong enough to ask for what I want and need in bed. My femininity means respecting everyone but groveling to no one, especially not my future husband, if I ever have one. Because my femininity also means that I am a complete and full person if I don't get married.

Much love,
The Albright Sheriff