The real F-word

It was recently suggested to me that men have a higher suicide rate than women because of feminism. Please excuse me whilst I wash this vomit out of my mouth for a moment. If anyone believes this, I implore you to pick up a book or go out of your little box and into the world. These folk need to stop getting their education through over-dramatised social media posts or Trump-esque videos aimed at pitting one group of people against another. This ‘us v them’ culture is truly the demise of us all. Living with a football player, I can tell you that the reason suicide is much higher in men, particularly in the football community, is because they were raised in macho surroundings where you were labelled a ‘wimp’ or a ‘pussy’ if you cried or showed emotion. Many psychologists believe that those who internalise are at a higher risk of suicide. I fail to see how me expecting to be given the same rights as my male counterpart encourages suicidal tendencies. If that’s the case, you really are a pussy.

What makes me laugh is when a woman feels the need to preface a smart statement with the line: “I’m not a feminist, but…” It reminds me of when Pauline Hanson says; “I’m not racist, but Asians are taking over”. Ladies, if you’re going to say something in support of your fellow sisters, please don’t feel the need to apologise before it escapes your mouth. That’s only perpetuating the myth of feminism being hateful. This is the exact problem. That feminism is a dirty word. This movement has never been about hating men, it’s only ever been about equality. Imagine a world where we weren’t pre-judged on our gender, our race or our religion. Because that’s what prejudice is; pre-judging. You can judge me as much as you would like, but please judge me only on my actions. Because that is all I can control. Everything else was a birthright.

When I was in high school, I was in a group of friends that consisted of  two other girls and about 10 males. My favourite thing to do on a Friday night is have steak and wine at the pub whilst watching the footy. When I am invited to family functions; all of the women sit inside eating cake and talking about celebrities, yet I sit out the back with the men; drinking scotch, smoking cigars and talking about sport. Yet, I am a feminist. I repeat; feminism is not about hating or lowering men, it’s about making everyone recognise we deserve the same rights, whether I can change a tyre or not (I so cannot…NRMA anyone?). Can I also clarify another misconception? You don’t actually have to be a woman to be a feminist. My hot, straight, football playing boyfriend believes whole-heartedly that he and I are equal and that he is not entitled to any more than I due to a difference in gender. He too, is a feminist. Believing in gender equality is what makes you a feminist (and also not an idiot).

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Having been born in the 80’s, I was brought up on movies that led us to believe that our happy ending was standing at the end of the altar in a white dress. What’s interesting, is that very rarely did they explain what we did with our lives after that (presumably barefoot and pregnant). Men saved the world, and women married those men. Gradually, with each generation, you see a shift in entertainment. Disney used to portray Cinderella getting rescued from horrible (and catty towards other women) step-sisters by a handsome prince. Poor old Belle had a bad case of Stockholm Syndrome when she fell in love with her captor. But today, Moana is sailing the seven seas to rescue her whole village! She’s warm and wild and brave, and the world fell in love with her (I love her crazy grandmother who dances with Sting-rays; that’s my kinda woman). The big shift arose when I was a teenager, The Spice Girls introduced us to Girl Power and my TV screen was dominated by Buffy, the Charmed ones and Dark Angel. Their ass-kicking moves and sassy retorts will live on in my soul forever.

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Can someone please explain to me why so many believe it acceptable, humorous even, when a man is drunk at a party but inappropriate if a woman is? I wanna have some fun too (right Ms Lauper?) Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t alcohol work its way down to the liver rather than the penis? Hmm, perhaps I need to look at a diagram of anatomy again. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not condoning drinking to excess, I just fail to see why it’s socially acceptable for one and not the other. I was not born to be the designated driver with an expensive handbag. I have a voice, and I intend to use it. Plus…I am a fantastic dancer after a few champagnes. I was recently shamed by a wife of my partner’s friend for having been drunk at a party two and a half years ago. I walked up to her at a wedding and introduced myself, to which she replied; “oh we’ve already met at that birthday party years ago, but you were too drunk to remember”. I found that very interesting, considering that her husband was drunk at that birthday party, her husband was drunk at this wedding and her husband has been drunk at every occasion in between, as were all the men in that group. I’ve even had my sink clogged by their vomit. But I suppose that’s funny (YTB!) I’ll tell you this much about our lovely friend, I wouldn’t have remembered her even if I was sober. I tend to only remember people with personality.

It’s disappointing to realise that it’s not only men who are fighting our belief in gender equality. We can only succeed if we work together and stop tearing each other down.

No one can be ‘better’ than another based on something they were born with, such as a postcode, a colour of skin or a chromosome. Your actions are the only thing that determine your importance. Graham Long is better than most, because for decades, he provided a safe haven for the lonely and hopeless in Kings Cross. He used his voice to help others find their own. Turia Pitt is better than most because she is breaking down the walls of perceived beauty and continues to rise, despite her setbacks. She is using her strength, to help others find their own.

Allow me to share with you an actual exert from the Woman Anti-Suffrage Association of New York, urging men to vote no on the woman suffrage amendment;

  • Vote NO because there is no adequate reason why the women of this State should assume this duty in addition to those they already carry.
  • Vote NO because women are not suffering from any injustice which giving them the ballot would rectify.
  • Vote NO because man’s service to the State through government is counter-balanced by woman’s service in the home. One service is just as essential to the welfare of the State as the other, but they can never be identical.

Housework was actually referred to as a woman’s service to the State.

Remember the old saying; “who died and made you boss?”. Who died and put men in charge? Why did we ever have to ask for permission to have a voice? It makes as much sense as black people sitting on one end of the bus, and white people sitting on the other.

Inequality is in play when TV executives deem it OK to have a male news anchor who is old and unattractive, but his female co-anchor must be under 55, slim and attractive (I know you all remember Brian Henderson). Inequality is in play when Emma Stone and Jennifer Lawrence were paid less than their male co-stars for the same film, even though they’re both Oscar winners. And inequality is in play when tampons are taxed as a luxury item but condoms are not.

Once a month, I love to spoil myself with some luxurious indulgence.

Feminism is a beautiful word. It might not be as beautiful as my two other favourite F-words; Free Food. But I am damn proud to use it.

A woman with a voice is a beautiful creature, not as the lovely Greens member Greg Barber put it;fat, hairy lesbians”, “power pussies” and “hairy-legged feminists”. Sit down Greg; you ain’t no oil painting.

Any movement that encourages equality and fairness is a good and necessary movement. It is met with resistance only by the weak who fear losing their strength if others are stronger. True power comes from within, and cannot be taken away by another.

FEAR; now that is truly one of the filthiest words.