I'm The Girl Who'd Rather Raise A Family Than A Feminist Protest Sign

I'm The Girl Who'd Rather Raise A Family Than A Feminist Protest Sign

You raise your protest picket signs and I’ll raise my white picket fence.

Social Media feeds are constantly filled with quotes on women's rights, protests with mobs of women, and an array of cleverly worded picket signs.

Good for them, standing up for their beliefs and opinions. Will I be joining my tight-knit family of the same gender?

Nope, no thank you.

Don't get me wrong, I am not going to be oblivious to my history and the advancements that women have fought to achieve. I am aware that the strides made by many women before me have provided us with voting rights, a voice, equality, and equal pay in the workforce.

SEE ALSO: To The Girl Who Would Rather Raise A Family Than A Feminist Protest Sign

For that, I am deeply thankful. But at this day in age, I know more female managers in the workforce than male. I know more women in business than men. I know more female students in STEM programs than male students. So what’s with all the hype? We are girl bosses, we can run the world, we don’t need to fight the system anymore.

Please stop.

Because it is insulting to the rest of us girls who are okay with being homemakers, wives, or stay-at-home moms. It's dividing our sisterhood, and it needs to stop.

All these protests and strong statements make us feel like now we HAVE to obtain a power position in our career. It's our rightful duty to our sisters. And if we do not, we are a disappointment to the gender and it makes us look weak.

Weak to the point where I feel ashamed to say to a friend “I want to be a stay at home mom someday.” Then have them look at me like I must have been brain-washed by a man because that can be the only explanation. I'm tired of feeling belittled for being a traditionalist.


Because why should I feel bad for wanting to create a comfortable home for my future family, cooking for my husband, being a soccer mom, keeping my house tidy? Because honestly, I cannot wait.

I will have no problem taking my future husband’s last name, and following his lead.

The Bible appoints men to be the head of a family, and for wives to submit to their husbands. (This can be interpreted in so many ways, so don't get your panties in a bunch at the word “submit”). God specifically made women to be gentle and caring, and we should not be afraid to embrace that. God created men to be leaders with the strength to carry the weight of a family.

However, in no way does this mean that the roles cannot be flipped. If you want to take on the responsibility, by all means, you go girl. But for me personally? I'm sensitive, I cry during horror movies, I'm afraid of basements and dark rooms. I, in no way, am strong enough to take on the tasks that men have been appointed to. And I'm okay with that.

So please, let me look forward to baking cookies for bake sales and driving a mom car.

And I'll support you in your endeavors and climb to the top of the corporate ladder. It doesn't matter what side you are on as long as we support each other, because we all need some girl power.

Cover Image Credit: Unsplash

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Sorry Not Sorry, My Parents Paid For My Coachella Trip

No haters are going to bring me down.

With Coachella officially over, lives can go back to normal and we can all relive Beyonce’s performance online for years to come. Or, if you were like me and actually there, you can replay the experience in your mind for the rest of your life, holding dear to the memories of an epic weekend and a cultural experience like no other on the planet.

And I want to be clear about the Beyonce show: it really was that good.

But with any big event beloved by many, there will always be the haters on the other side. The #nochella’s, the haters of all things ‘Chella fashion. And let me just say this, the flower headbands aren’t cultural appropriation, they’re simply items of clothing used to express the stylistic tendency of a fashion-forward event.

Because yes, the music, and sure, the art, but so much of what Coachella is, really, is about the fashion and what you and your friends are wearing. It's supposed to be fun, not political! Anyway, back to the main point of this.

One of the biggest things people love to hate on about Coachella is the fact that many of the attendees have their tickets bought for them by their parents.

Sorry? It’s not my fault that my parents have enough money to buy their daughter and her friends the gift of going to one of the most amazing melting pots of all things weird and beautiful. It’s not my fault about your life, and it’s none of your business about mine.

All my life, I’ve dealt with people commenting on me, mostly liking, but there are always a few that seem upset about the way I live my life.

One time, I was riding my dolphin out in Turks and Cacaos, (“riding” is the act of holding onto their fin as they swim and you sort of glide next to them. It’s a beautiful, transformative experience between human and animal and I really think, when I looked in my dolphin’s eye, that we made a connection that will last forever) and someone I knew threw shade my way for getting to do it.

Don’t make me be the bad guy.

I felt shame for years after my 16th birthday, where my parents got me an Escalade. People at school made fun of me (especially after I drove into a ditch...oops!) and said I didn’t deserve the things I got in life.

I can think of a lot of people who probably don't deserve the things in life that they get, but you don't hear me hating on them (that's why we vote, people). Well, I’m sick of being made to feel guilty about the luxuries I’m given, because they’ve made me who I am, and I love me.

I’m a good person.

I’m not going to let the Coachella haters bring me down anymore. Did my parents buy my ticket and VIP housing? Yes. Am I sorry about that? Absolutely not.

Sorry, not sorry!

Cover Image Credit: Kaycie Allen

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What 5 Year-Old Me Could Teach 19 Year-Old Me

If only I could go back.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss being five years old. Who doesn't? Although I had zero freedom and couldn't choose my own outfits, life was simple and predictable. I woke up and went to school then I came home and played outside. Hunting for snails under rocks and playing baseball with tree branches as bats was the highlight of my day and continues to be a mainstay in my running list of favorite childhood memories.

But of all of the things that I miss about being really young, I only recently realized that the sheer confidence in myself that I had at five years old is something I've been trying to recapture ever since.

Running around with dirt on my face and bleeding splinters in my palms from my makeshift baseball bats must've been a less-than-seemly sight for every adult in my neighborhood but I was absolutely thrilled. At that moment, I wasn't thinking about what I looked like or the opinion other people had about my shenanigans. I was wondering which of my friends was free to come outside and about what my mom was going to cook for dinner. I was thinking about how much I enjoyed the kindness of my kindergarten teacher and how proud I was that I was one of the best in my class at sight words.

Confidence is a funny thing. It seems that the more life I live, the more experience I gain, the more knowledge I learn, the less confidence I have. As the old adage goes, "you don't know what you don't know." Every day, I discover more and more that I don't know and I've become slightly obsessed with closing those gaps as they appear. It's turned into a race that I will never be able to keep up with.

Five-year-old me was blissfully unaware of these gaps in knowledge. I knew that my parents were way smarter than me but I had no conceptualization of just how much it took them to get there. I thought that one day I would just wake up and know how to drive a car (the most amazing adult thing to me at the time). I was so confident that life would work out with no effort. I was unstoppable.

Becoming more self-aware as I get older has enormous benefits, though. Knowing where I fall short means I often acknowledge that I need help in becoming the person that I want to be. Instead of thinking that I can figure everything out if I just have the chance to try it, I'm much more open to getting advice and collaboration. I met great friends my freshman year of college just from admitting that I was completely and utterly clueless in chemistry. That incompetence became something that we bonded over and helped each other grow in.

Five-year-old me wasn't insecure about running around with splintered palms. 19-year-old me knows that the splinters have to come out and that I can't remove them by myself.

Cover Image Credit: Cameryn Cole

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