"My response to the “I am not a feminist” internet phenomenon….
First of all, it’s clear you don’t know what feminism is. But I’m not going to explain it to you. You can google it. To quote an old friend, “I’m not the feminist babysitter.”
But here is what I think you should know.
You’re insulting every woman who was forcibly restrained in a jail cell with a feeding tube down her throat for your right to vote, less than 100 years ago.
You’re degrading every woman who has accessed a rape crisis center, which wouldn’t exist without the feminist movement.
You’re undermining every woman who fought to make marital rape a crime (it was legal until 1993).
You’re spitting on the legacy of every woman who fought for women to be allowed to own property (1848). For the abolition of slavery and the rise of the labor union. For the right to divorce. For women to be allowed to have access to birth control (Comstock laws). For middle and upper class women to be allowed to work outside the home (poor women have always worked outside the home). To make domestic violence a crime in the US (It is very much legal in many parts of the world). To make workplace sexual harassment a crime.
In short, you know not what you speak of. You reap the rewards of these women’s sacrifices every day of your life. When you grin with your cutsey sign about how you’re not a feminist, you ignorantly spit on the sacred struggle of the past 200 years. You bite the hand that has fed you freedom, safety, and a voice.
In short, kiss my ass, you ignorant little jerks.”
I wore a red dress to work today. It has a zipper at either side of my chest that can unzip and reveal a thin strip of skin. A coworker, without warning, tried pulling at the zipper and when it wouldn’t zip, instead revealed a good portion of my collarbone and shoulder as well as my bra strap. An hour later, the same coworker came up and told me to not wear clothes with zippers because he’ll go right ahead and unzip them. I shot back that unzipping me without my permission is sexual harassment. Apparently a manager heard and berated my coworker. At the end of my shift, my coworker told me that my little comment got him in trouble and that he no longer feels comfortable saying anything to me other than “hello” and “goodbye.”
I am supposed to feel guilty for pointing out that he can’t lay his fucking hands on me.
So I wore the infamous dress at work yesterday and ANOTHER MALE COWORKER DECIDED TO PULL AT ONE OF MY FUCKING ZIPPERS. We were surrounded by other (also male) coworkers (that did nothing) and I swatted his hand away while promptly informing him that he didn’t have permission to touch me.
He then asked, since he knows I cosplay, if it would be any different if I wore a revealing costume. I gave him a dirty look and told him that no matter what *I* decide to wear, no one is allowed “to lay a finger on me unless they want my foot up their ass.”
Being that I’m quite professional at work, they were all surprised by my language and the ferocity with which I spat my promise.
After doing some research, Agrawal says she found that more than 100 million girls in the developing world were missing a week of school because of their periods, and using things such as leaves, old rags, or plastic bags in the place of sanitary pads.
THE SIZES RUN FROM XS TO XXL AND THE PRICES ARE NOT INSANE, THEY’RE OBVIOUSLY HIGHER THAN THOSE 5 FOR $10 SALES AT TARGET BUT YOU WON’T HAVE TO THROW THEM OUT BECAUSE YOU MISCALCULATED YOUR FLOW AND BLED ALL OVER THEM BEFORE YOU COULD GET TO A BATHROOM
I’M SORRY FOR SHOUTING I’M JUST REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS