This is my awakening

fem•i•nist
n. A person whose beliefs and behavior are based on feminism.
adj. Relating to feminism.

So why do so many people have a problem with this word?
Last week I told my friend I wanted to start a feminist movement on campus. Now we go to a school where girls are outnumbered at least 2:1 and are constantly subject to misogynistic remarks with almost no regard to our feelings. I asked her if she would like to join what I was tentatively calling the “Feminist Club” (horrible title, I know, but I have never claimed creativity). She waffled for a little bit, and then told me that while she agreed with the ideals of feminism, she didn’t want to be labeled a feminist, and didn’t want to join the club because of that. Now I know I could change the name, but being up front is one of the things I do well, and I figured we should be as honest as possible with the name, and force feminism back into the stream of conversation at our school.

Should the word feminist ever be a deal breaker when it comes to a cause you truly support?
Why, if they believe in the ideals of feminism, do my friends say they are not feminists?

Last night, I had dinner with an ex. Let’s call him Jim. Yes, it was a silly idea. I was telling him how a new guy in my life had bought Jessica Valenti’s book, Full Frontal Feminism, because, and I quote, he “want[s] to know more about this because [I am] so passionate about it”. Was this the best date of my young life? In a word, yes. Not just for the amazing conversation about a variety of topics, but also for the way he let me split the bill (something my ex would never do) and the fact that his movie collection was just as eclectic as mine. Back to the topic at hand: my ex. I told him about how wonderful everything was going and how excited I was that my new guy was accepting of and interested in feminism nearly as much as I am.
You know what Jim says to me?
“You’re not a feminist. You don’t…. you’re just not. You don’t act like one.”
To my face.
Excuse me?
“I’m not a feminist? How so?”
“Well, I just don’t think of you as a feminist. You may support feminism, but you aren’t…”
“Isn’t that what a feminist is?” (At this point, I was mildly in shock, and he was backpedaling.)
“Well, you’re just not…”
“What, a hairy man-hating lesbian?” (I just heard Jessica talk, I feel justified in using this stereotype.)
“Well, yeah.”
“Trust me Jim, I’m a feminist. Just because I’m not a hairy man-hating lesbian doesn’t mean I’m not a feminist.”

Why do I even have to have this conversation?

And yet this is something we all do. I know feminists can be gorgeous and shave everyday if they want to (I do!) and like whomever the hell they want. The public in general, however, has apparently not realized this. They keep telling us that feminists will never get married, nor have successful lives, nor be attractive in any way.
I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of this.

Curse them.
If I want to get married I will. I’m keeping my last name though.
Damn them.
I’m attractive. I know that. I have boys climbing over each other for my attention.
Fuck them.
I will be successful at whatever I choose to do with my life. I will be the next Hillary Rodham-Clinton, or a female Steve Jobs, or the best spy in the entire world (on par with James Bond, only sexier, less misogynistic, and with better taste in drinks).

I am a feminist. This is my awakening.