The Moment I Realized I Was a Feminist

Walking alone at night. Paying the bill. Having children. Leading a work project. Dressing up for a party. Maintaining the household. Making the first move. You know what they are. Without explanation you've probably heard about these expectations for women—things women are expected and not expected to do, the way women are meant to act and the way they aren't. Each situation highlights something very important—the prevailing existence of the gender gap.

A simple Google search defines feminism as

the advocacy of women's rights on the basis of the equality of the sexes

Simple enough. But somehow, feminism has turned into this heated topic with a hard middle line and sharp-tongued soldiers on both sides. The topic has fallen into the dreaded category of forbidden talking points that no one ever wants to be caught bringing up at any kind of gathering—see "religion" or "politics."

Let me make this clear—feminism is not some superiority complex. This movement isn't meant to act as some sort of retribution for all of the years of oppression women have experienced in communities all over the world. Feminism is a right, even in its belief. And it isn't just for women either. We're not talking about taking the throne. We just want a seat at the table. And the failure to understand that is the basis for all this disagreement.

When I was a child, my mother always emphasized any messy habits of mine as shocking or uncharacteristic. Not because I was an inherently clean person, but because of my supposed gender role. I don't fault her so much for this—after all, her time was different than mine is—but perhaps I should. Because it starts in our own backyards, doesn't it?

This isn't to say my mother isn't a strong woman. She's the one that taught me to be independent and not to rely on others to take care of me—men or women alike. And that's just to show that adversity can show itself in the smallest pieces. Because feminism is everywhere. It isn't just about who's responsible for washing the dishes.

I used to think I had to be all or nothing. I used to think that if I dreamed of being a mother, then I must not be a feminist. I used to think that if I believed in chivalry, then I must not be a feminist. I used to think that if I wanted to dress conservatively, then I must not be a feminist. But it isn't all or nothing. Wanting a family doesn't make you less of a fighter—and not wanting one doesn't make you any less of a woman. It's the option and the choice that I shouldn't be judged for.

Because I shouldn't have to be worried about being attacked walking to my car after a long day at work. Because my date shouldn't be expected to pay the bill—and I shouldn't be expected to "return the favor." Because I shouldn't be expected to want children as some form of fulfillment. I shouldn't have to break my back for my ideas to be heard or for my leadership to be acknowledged. I shouldn't have to worry about how I'm dressed for a night out with my girls. I shouldn't be expected to do all the cooking and cleaning, or be discouraged from asking you out first. And you shouldn't be subjected to the other side. There doesn't have to be any sides.

The moment I realized I was a feminist was the moment I discovered how strong and different and beautiful women living with these societal expectations are. The way we—as in every individual human being—choose to live our lives shouldn't be defined by what other people think is right or best. Feminism isn't an act of defiance. I'm just asking you to listen to what I have to say. And isn't that something we all deserve?