Sexism is not some abstract concept. Neither is feminism. They are my life. I cannot ignore them.
Sexism is in the books I read, the music I listen to, almost the air I breathe. It’s when I can’t find rapper who are women, or songs devoid of slurs and general disrespect; when I can’t find music or media that doesn’t imply objectification or disrespect.
Sexism is when I walked down the street at 14 and got cat called by men in cars, going who knows where. Sexism is when I feel every day that I have to do twice as well to achieve half as much. Sexism was when I first began realizing it might be so much harder to do what I want to do because I am a woman. Sexism is when men have the audacity to call “picking up” women an “art” or a “science”, as if women are something less than they, as if women are objects to be won, prizes, not human beings with real thoughts and emotions and ideas.
I am frustrated, most of all, that both men and women seem to divide feminism up into a word with a negative connotation, a word that no longer connotes what it is defined to mean. I cannot identify as a feminist with an asterisk. I simply identify as a feminist.
I am frustrated every day of my whole life. Not a single day has passed since I was maybe 8 years old that I do not think about this, that I do not worry about this, that I wonder when this will change. Not one, single day.