Nov 23

The feminist of your nightmares

I am the feminist of your nightmares
Too young and innocent to be a woman, too smart and angry to be a girl
My shirts are too low cut to be taken seriously and my hems are too long to be noticed, so I shout
Sometimes, when you say something really stupid, you can't even think of a response over the sound of my shouting
I am the feminist of your nightmares because I am just pretty enough to be a loss for womanhood 
And just ugly enough to not be a poster-child victim
What you must hate is, I could have been such a good woman
I have the laugh and the caring heart and the casserole dishes and the years of childhood ballet
But one glance into my red eyes tells you I would not shut my mouth while your grandfather calls her a bitch
I am the feminist of your nightmares because I love other women
I don't care if they shave their legs or wear makeup or marry rich men or love pink
I care that they are smart and respected and happy and safe and awake
And I am not upset about the plight of womanhood
Not crying over the witches you burned, not holding vigils for vestal virgins
I am enraged
I could press your suits with the steam coming out of my ears
I am not easy to deal with and I will not settle
I don't want money and negotiations behind closed doors and private practices and conference rooms with tinted windows
I don't want a moment to re-do my makeup or change my tampon 
Runny mascara and day two cramps cannot stop me
If runny mascara and day two cramps cannot stop me then you, sir, don't stand a chance
I am the feminist of your nightmares because I am a teenage girl who can't drive and goes to therapy and educates herself
When she is wrong
Which is often because the feminist of your nightmares is constantly learning and evolving
Not only are her tricks getting better, but her sleeves are growing longer too
And you won't be able to stop me
Me, the feminist of your nightmares
Because me and my friends and my enemies and my sisters are a hydra
And you will never be able to cut off all of our heads