Being raised by a woman that is the epitome of capability and strength should have given me an early taste for feminism. However my foundation of faith was more dominant and growing up in church meant traditional gender roles were clarified early on. I liked Barbie and all things girly, and was told that it was a ‘tragedy’ if a girl wasn’t taught how to be a girl from a young age; God made us this way and we need to own our femininity with pride.
And if I’m painfully honest, there was a big ‘damsel in distress’ part of me that wanted to be rescued. It’s what Disney taught us and let’s be honest… Romantic.
Needless to say, Feminism slipped far under the radar of my child-turned-adult consciousness. It went in the same camp as the tree-huggers and all I knew is that it most probably involved daringly hairy legs, which ruled out my interest. It was unfeminine to stand up and fight, after all no one likes a forward-thinking, opinionated loudmouth, do they? Females should be ladylike and making a fuss about anything, let alone women’s rights, is certainly not that.