Oh, Feministing, I just can’t with this:
We’ve all been 25-year-old revolutionary badasses on our personal journey of self-discovery. So exciting! I too was a rapscallion, renegade erotic vagrant, and I’m thankful the Internet was too rickety back then to record my “Self-definition is a feminist priority!” rants for time and eternity.
Listen. Self-definition isn’t a feminist priority, it’s a personal priority. The well-being and fate of women, as a class, all over the world, is a feminist priority. Feminism is not a fun, personal tool. It is not a vibrator, it is a political movement. And any woman who can dismiss the entire second wave for its “sheer irrelevancy…to any of my life,” has skipped the required fucking reading.
Is legal contraception and abortion irrelevant to any woman’s life? Domestic violence and sexual harassment laws; are these quaint artifacts from a bygone era? How about protection from workplace discrimination and the death of job ads reading “Help Wanted: Male”?
None of the above has anything to do with second wave feminism? None of it involves the “autonomy and liberation” you’re so into? No hat tip to the foremothers? No “Hey, thanks for your hard work” before you shimmy away with jazz hands? Just arrogant, ignorant smuggery, with a reassurance that you “can’t police other feminists”? Because everything is everything and we all choose our choices?
The last paragraph reads: “As I prepare to explore 25 more years of feminism I hope that I can continue to humble myself to the experiences of others.”
Continue to? She hasn’t started. At this rate, the light leaving from “started” will not reach her for another hundred million years. No, no, no. FAIL. Sit down.