I Am A Feminist (Unless I Am Playing Clue and We’re Choosing Who Gets to Be Miss Scarlet)

I Am A Feminist (Unless I Am Playing Clue and We’re Choosing Who Gets to Be Miss Scarlet)


The feel of unity and sisterhood in the feminist movement is unparalleled.

To be able to participate in a time where the disenfranchisement of women is not only highly publicized, but is actually producing professional and legal repercussions, means we are building a future in which women can unapologetically not only inhabit the world, but succeed in it. It is one of my dreams to one day raise a daughter, and I feel supported in building a future where she may craft her life without being limited by the outdated public perception of stereotypical femininity.

It has also made me more connected to women in collaborative capacities. We're trained from birth to feel competitive with other women – to compare and contrast our abilities and appearances – but it is becoming rapidly evident that this ruse was designed in order to hinder the possibility of women's collective success. Together, women are able to prosper professionally, creatively, and communally. We're especially effective in matters of problem-solving, even in something casual. Like a game. Like the murder mystery board game Clue!

According to online aficionado Board Game Geek:

"In Clue, players move from room to room in a mansion to solve the mystery of: who done it, with what, and where? Players are dealt character, weapon, and location cards after the top card from each card type is secretly placed in the confidential file in the middle of the board."

And if I don't get to be Miss Scarlet, I'm gonna fucking lose it.

I am continually honored to be exposed to the intellect of women – its precision, its efficacy, the silent CIA-level manipulation we are trying to do as a group in order to justify our assignment of the hot one while also making it clear We Don't Really Care It Is Only A Game Haha :). The first of us might send out a cautionary "I'm always Miss Scarlet", maybe colored with a casual laugh in order to achieve peak It's Not Really A Big Deal. Or perhaps look down at the clothes we came in and say, as though we have only just noticed them, "Oh, look! I'm even wearing red right now. Haha that's crazy."

And Lizzie I swear to God if you pull that shit where you look at me and are like "I feel like you just, like, are Miss Peacock. Right?? Like I just get that vibe from you!" I will foam at the mouth. You know my crush is here, and you want to put the image of me as that old bitch in his head? (Infantilizing women's sexuality and this idea that the older you are, the less sexually desirable you are is a misogynistic conceit that we need to work on as a culture - but you think the dumbass 25-year-old guy I like who talks about how "different brands of beer actually DO taste different" is gonna be aware of that?? USE YOUR HEAD, LIZZIE. LET ME BE THE THICC RED DRESS LADY THIS ONE FUCKING TIME.)

Lizzie. Come on.

While there are certainly more hurdles in the feminist movement – inclusion, diversity in cultural conversations, Lizzie weirdly trying to put me down in front of Michael even though she knows I like him – we will conquer them. We have the determination, grit, acumen, sensitivity, and intuition to continue to craft a world where our being overpowered is simply impossible.

And if I don't get to be Miss Scarlet, I will eat that red game piece. I will pop it in my mouth like a Tic Tac and swallow it whole without blinking. Try me. I don't give a fuck.

Popular Right Now

Shaving My Head Taught Me That Self-Confidence Does Not Depend On How I Look

Shaving my head helped me gain more self-confidence than I ever thought possible.


Hair is something that has more power over us than we think. Historically, hair was viewed as a way to identify your gender, marital status, religion, or social position. In the Quapaw tribe, single Native American woman wore their hair in braids, while the married woman wore it long and loose. Hair can be sacred, as well. Many Sikhs believe that hair should not be cut in any way, as it is a gift from God.

In most of Western society, hair serves simply as a gender marker. Although we are straying away from traditional gender roles, long hair usually signifies femininity and short hair represents masculinity. The media portrays desirable young women with long, silky, effortlessly perfect hair.

For me, my hair served as a comfort. Although I struggled with its frizziness, brittleness, and tangle-ability, I relied on it to make me feel secure. When it hung to my waist in high school, I would use it to cover up my arms and shoulders when I wore sleeveless tops, as I didn't like these parts of my body.

As a child, I remember watching Natalie Portman on the "Oprah Winfrey Show," talking about having to shave her head for a movie role. Even though I thought it was extreme, her calm and pragmatic demeanor about it changed my perceptions on having a shaved head. I remember her saying, "I always wanted to do it once in my life, anyways. It'll grow back my natural color eventually."

Months before I left for college, I began to devise a plan. I would dye my hair the fun colors that I wasn't allowed to in high school, and then shave it all off for the new year. I got started the week after I moved into my dorm and bleached my hair. As the chemicals burned my scalp and made my eyes water, I realized that there was no going back now. I had committed to shaving my head.

When January rolled around, I was starting to get apprehensive. The weekend I had marked on my calendar approached, and I trekked through a snowstorm to the nearest SportsClips. The barber seemed bewildered at my request but didn't give me any time to reconsider. She took the clippers right to my head, and I watched as my bleach-damaged locks fell to the ground, much like the snow outside.

The first week was hard. I didn't recognize my reflection and often caught myself reaching up to play with my non-existent hair out of habit. I only went out in girly outfits or a full face of makeup, as I felt the need to assert my femininity.

As the weeks went on, however, I began to fall in love with my stubbly head.

Would I recommend shaving your head? I would. Although the journey has been challenging, the benefits make the shave well worth it. Not only do save time in the morning, but I also have learned how to stop hiding behind my hair.

Shaving my head taught me how to stop relying on my appearance for self-assurance. When I had long hair, I would often base my validation around how I looked. Although it provided me temporary confidence, it meant that I wasn't placing any confidence in my other traits. I cared more about how the world saw me than how it heard me. Now that I've stripped myself of my comfort blanket, I feel as though I can conquer anything, no matter how I look.

Related Content

Connect with a generation
of new voices.

We are students, thinkers, influencers, and communities sharing our ideas with the world. Join our platform to create and discover content that actually matters to you.

Learn more Start Creating
Facebook Comments