Let’s have a chat, shall we?
Yesterday, I made a post in a personal blog in which I asked readers to vote on what sort of dessert I should make for my boyfriend’s parents. I will be visiting them in Ireland this year when I go to visit him, and I was looking forward to making them something special and fun to take along as a gift. I already make bath products, but I thought that a dessert of some sort would be memorable as well. A while ago, I was legitimately worried that I would be unable to make a good impression, but this fear has since mostly dissipated to the normal pre-meeting jitters that anyone gets before meeting the mother and father of their significant other. Because of this, I made a joking reference to impressing them, as well as taking good-natured pot shots at myself and my family’s somewhat conservative views of how a “proper young lady” should act.
And somehow, this is an affront to feminism.
I’d like to state before I go on that I do not, have not, and most likely never will declare myself a feminist. This isn’t because I do not believe in the ideals of the movement or have a conservative view of a division between the roles of men and women. Far from it, in fact. To avoid going off on a long tangent, I will just tell you that I am quite liberal across the board, including women’s rights. However, like so many other good ideas and movements, feminism seems to be plagued by a social hierarchy that declares that you are not truly a feminist unless you…fill in the blank there yourself. It happens in many movements - environmentalism, religion, humanitarianism - but no matter where it happens, it’s tiresome. You aren’t a feminist unless you buck every social convention, no matter how harmless or even good it is. You aren’t a feminist unless you act in only your own interest, as anything else is bowing to the patriarchy. You aren’t a feminist if you perform traditionally feminine tasks for others, especially if that person is a man. Especially if you are involved with that man romantically.
The patriarchy declares that you are less of a woman if you don’t wear lipstick. The matriarchy declares that you are less of a woman if you do. And so it goes.
Please excuse me if I decide that I wish to bow out of the cycle and define for myself what I will and won’t consider personal liberation. I am old enough to make my own decisions on the matter, as well as whether or not I wish to disclose the reasoning behind those decisions. Making your own decisions based solely on your personal values, beliefs, and mores? That, to me, is feminism, just like the following points:
-Being a “good girl”
I often describe myself as being a “good girl” in a playful manner, but this is often misconstrued as an admission of cheerful subservience. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am not “good” to satisfy the demands of a patriarchal society - were that the case, I would most likely not be writing this blog. Society’s good girls, after all, do not complain.
No, no. By “good,” I mean decent. I mean following a code of social conduct that works for me, a code which includes respecting others and treating them as equals, regardless of their sex or gender. For me, part of this goodness is following positive, kind and affirming traditions, such as giving gifts to others should the need or desire arise. In this case, the tradition is giving a gift to the parents of my significant other. I see nothing wrong with this, for the act does not speak of deference or a need for approval, despite my jokingly referring to it as the “please like me” gift (a reference which, in light of the recent confusion, I will no longer make). It is instead an acknowledgment of the special role that these people now play in my life, as well as a way of thanking them for welcoming me into their lives. This is especially important given the unusual circumstances under which I met their son, coupled with the very real possibility that I will not be able to see them very often. The decision to give them a gift was made by me long before giving thought to any social niceties. I give gifts because I like to give them, because I respect the receiver, and to celebrate an occasion, even one as simple as our meeting. Showing respect and thanks to others? That, to me, is feminism.
-The destiny of being a family matriarch
Another thing I often joke about (but will no more) is my “destiny” of being the family matriarch. My mother’s side of the family is traditionally divided along the lines of male and female - a man’s work is done outside the home in the role of the provider, while the woman’s realm is the home, the children, and the tasks and involved therein. It is an arrangement that has softened through the years, though one that is not yet completely unchanged. (For example, my mother is supportive of my career, but also expects that I will eventually settle down to raise my children.) I am my grandmother’s eldest granddaughter and my mother’s only daughter - in other words, I will most likely be expected to carry on the traditions of a hundred mothers before me in this, my matriarchal mother’s side.
But that’s not to say I can’t change some things. That’s not to say that I can’t celebrate the good while quietly putting away the bad. That’s not to say that I can’t act as a role model for those who come after me - girls and boys - by showing them that one’s gender is not indicative of worth, ability or destiny. I look forward to this inheritance, as it will allow me to set forth a new, progressive precedent that I hope will have a positive influence on my descendants long after I’m gone. Changing a long-standing system for the better? That, to me, is feminism.
-Cooking, cleaning and caretaking
Ah, here is the sticking point that inspired me to write all of this in the first place. You see, I made mention of my lack of housecleaning skill and a hope that my culinary skills would off-set all of this. That was a bit of an exaggeration on my part - you see, while I am capable of keeping an area clean, I don’t particularly care for it, nor give myself undue worry if the area in question is not spotless all of the time. It’s a laid back attitude that used to concern the above-mentioned mother and grandmother, who follow an adage that states, “If you can’t keep a house, then you can’t keep a man.”
While my set of values disagrees sharply with that statement (if a man will only stick around because I keep his house tidy, then he won’t be the one walking out the door first), I do believe that a relationship is an equal partnership, and that I must be willing to do my fair share in both the domestic and professional spheres if I want to avoid conflicts that could tear that relationship apart. I expect nothing less in return - just as my boyfriend would not be pleased if I expected him to support me financially, I would not be pleased if he expected me to do all the household chores on my own. (For the record: I hold both full time and freelance positions as a professional writer, and he always insists on helping with chores, cooking and other household odd jobs.) It is this balance that I hope to demonstrate to his parents when I meet them, not so they know I’m a worthy match for their son, but to show them that I love and cherish him when we are together. Given that he will not only be leaving behind his family, but his entire country when the time comes (he’s in Ireland, I’m in the United States), I can only imagine that his welfare and happiness is a concern to them. Through a subtle display of show and tell, I want to assure them that he will be in good hands. Cherishing the love of your life and assuring his friends and relations that you see him as an equal and will honor and love him as much as they do? That, to me, is true love. And feminism.
I could go on, but I think I have made my point with these examples. Feminism, in my opinion, should not be about the limitations of any woman’s beliefs, desires or decisions, be they traditional or modern, concrete or abstract. Dictating what is or is not feminism kills the very spirit of the movement and its ideals - namely, that women can think for themselves, act for themselves, and do what they feel is right to be awake, alive, satisfied and happy. My feminism is not your feminism, just as yours is not anyone else’s. In the end, feminism is whatever you decide to make of it, with its only limits being those you impose upon yourself. And maybe you disagree with me. That’s alright.
Having your own beliefs on what it is to be a feminist?
That, to me, is feminism.
