Real girls in their own place.
Not too crazy and just a pinch of naughty...
The magnitude of my current existential crisis is staggering in its scope and impact on my life. I am in love. I am a feminist. I am learning that those things are not mutually-exclusive.
1. I am in LOVE.
And let me tell you, this is capital L-O-V-E, people. Not the kind of lust/love that you first meet someone you want to fuck. The kind of love that inspires you to turn your life upside down, move cities, forgo career opportunities, and devote all your resources to being with that person because you don’t want to imagine a lifetime without them.
2. I am a feminist.
Perhaps not the bra-burning, man-hating, militant type (that never really existed) that we women have been taught to reject as a necessary stage of development in the continuous march to full political, economic, and social equality for women, but, unlike Katy Perry, I am proud to call myself a feminist. I am 28, an ivy-league educated lawyer, and, as a woman, I have a vested interest in ensuring that other women are able to meet and exceed any expectations that they have for their life.
So, when confronted with said LOVE. How does a feminist - committed as she is to
showing proving that women are just as capable, if not more so, as men at basically everything - accept that a man can have this sort of impact on her life?
Well, first, it involves a lot of soul-searching and intense convos with all parties involved to ascertain the source of the conflict and ensure that you have the levels of support you need to move forward with your decision. Then, as I have, you’ll realize that exercising your will and determining the ultimate course of events in your life is, as a woman, about as pro-female as you can be.
I did not choose to be a woman. I did not choose to love this man. But, I can and do choose to love in a way that is meaningful and beneficial for me and mi hombre, knowing that the freedom to do even this is a result of the struggle of the many women that came before me.