I have no idea whether or not I am a “good feminist.” I have taken classes, read authors, voted for political candidates, and attended conferences all in the name of my love for equality. I believe in the message, have done extensive research on the movement’s history, and feel as if I belong to a strong support system. Am I doing it right?
Below you’ll see a simple definition of “feminism” that I found. However, beliefs are only half of the equation. While they are important, there is also an element of “doing” in feminism. Everyone does feminism in their own way. This work does not exist on a scale. No single act is more important than another. That being said, why do people feel like they aren’t doing enough? Committing enough? Dedicating enough? Take your pick.
I’ll give you some context as to why I chose this topic. I was at the store the other day to buy tampons (or feminine hygiene products if you wish). You know the drill. Walk down the aisle. Linger in the aisle until no one is around. Swoop in and grab the tampons. Hide the tampons under your arm. Walk away a few paces quicker and a thousand times more awkwardly than you intended to. If they don’t have self-checkout, pray for both yourself and the pre-pubescent boy ringing up your items. But hey, you did it! You got your tampons. I know many of you ladies are familiar with this mission. If you walk in there like a girl boss and do your business without giving a sh*t, good job. I’m jealous. As I did this for the hundredth time, I wondered why I still felt this way. I’m not trying to buy firearms or narcotics. I thought to myself “If I was a good feminist, I wouldn’t care what people thought of my buying tampons and embrace all that my body was meant to do.” Why isn’t this happening?
I don’t have a concrete answer to this question, but I’ll share my theory with you. There is hardly anyone out there trying to normalize the female body. If you went through health class in middle school, you probably left feeling more uncomfortable than you started. They show you diagrams of the uterus/vagina combo, tell you that blood will come out of it once a month, and send you on your merry way. Wonderful. It also doesn’t help that middle schoolers can be terrifying human beings who taunt girls for getting their periods. Our parents might try to help, but even then it’s a tossup. They don’t want to talk about it any more than we do. Those feelings stick with you. Just search “Afraid to buy tampons” in Google and you will get testimonies from middle-aged women who still feel uncomfortable and how-to guides for overcoming the awkwardness. Hi. It’s 2016.
Returning to the topic at hand: being a good feminist. Does being afraid to buy tampons make us bad feminists? Beyond that, does creating a wall of separation between ourselves and our natural processes make us bad feminists? I’m going to call bullsh*t on it all. I’m not confident walking into the tampon aisle or discussing my period because no one told me that doing so was okay. Although my confidence is increasing, unlearning that negligence is tough stuff. This might feel like a minor feminist victory for some, but for many, it’s huge. In my opinion, you can be the most committed feminist in the world and still feel awkward buying tampons. Feminism isn’t cut and dry. Do what you can and don’t feel guilty.
