Feminism is defined as, “a collection of movements and ideologues aimed at defining, establishing and defending equal political, economic and social rights for women.” Seems pretty simple. To me this means I get to live my life like any man on the planet, make my own choices, excepting the part where some men are assholes and do whatever they want. Chicks, generally the ones with chores and children, don’t do whatever they please when it comes to family. Some do–this one did not.
When I left my career to raise children for a time–I took an inordinate amount of flack from friends and family so deeply concerned with feminism, they questioned my ability to hold onto my membership card. I heard I was setting women back. I was diminishing myself. I gave up on my career. I was sacrificing. And one day, as I was teaching my three-year-old son to make chocolate chip cookies some bitch came on the radio and said, “I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies and had teas, but what I decided to do was fulfill my profession.” Whaaa?
As someone who enjoys tea and an afternoon cookie, I was offended. Not five minutes earlier, I was silently, inwardly patting myself on the back for raising a feminist son. After all I was teaching him that should he ever be in need of a cookie he should make it without having to search out the assistance of a girl, be that mother or wife. Evidently I was wrong.
Shortly thereafter, the same beacon of feminism quips, “I’m not sitting here, some little woman, standing by her man,” thus insulting Tammy Wynette, her number one country tune and lying all with one sentence. Because girlfriend, you did, in fact, do just that. Bottom line–and in keeping with feminist ideals–it’s your marriage, not my business. As my definition of feminism would attest, you have every right to stay in whatever arrangement you’ve got going on and call it marriage. The difference is, you brought yours into my home and then commented on mine. Gloves on girlfriend, gloves on.
Fast forward to today. My son, a feminist, does indeed bake his own cookies, make dinner for his girlfriend, wash dishes and is still capable of killing spiders, car maintenance and training for an Iron Man. In August in Louisville-I know right? By some stroke of luck, he was not turned into a rutting beast because his mother stayed at home being a piss poor example of feminist ideals.
His feminist mother taught him that women at home get shit done. They change things in their communities. They form the PTA and the neighborhood watch. They not only give to charities but create them. They show their children how to throw amazing dinner parties with fine china and Waterford in order to get someone to fund the football weight room. They get out the vote and teach their children to be responsible, respectful citizens making a difference. But, by all means, let’s slam them for baking an occasional cookie and demanding their husbands stick to those vows or get the hell out.
Low and behold, fast forward and we have Weinergate. The receiver of this husband behaving badly stand by your man award is none other than old girlfriend’s number two. My pity for these women and their public humiliation at the hands of their dog husbands is immeasurable. Their sacrifice for their husband’s careers is immense. I can only imagine the behind closed door arguments. What I resent is the hypocrisy. If you’re going to speak out publicly, live what you say. These two women can kick ass every which way from Sunday. To be degraded at the hands of the person to whom you make yourself most vulnerable in front of a nation seems to rub up against everything feminism holds holy.
These are the same card carrying group of gals who said the last presidential candidate’s wife never worked a day in her life. That would be except for the time she raised five or six kids, was the First Lady of Massachusetts, helped run a presidential campaign, co-chaired the Olympic Aid charity aiding children in war torn countries all while battling multiple sclerosis. The Press labeled her a “Stepford Wife.” This because of the way she runs her marriage. So, lets make up our minds girls–is marriage in or out on the political table?
I do have to say, Karma is a minxy little bitch, is she not? Right as we ramp up for 2016, this little gem pops up to remind us all of cigars and navy blue dresses in the White House. Don’t you just love when someone’s judgy words come back to bite them in the ass and they seem unwilling to swallow again. Sorry, couldn’t resist. A certain power couple can’t distance themselves quickly enough. Word on the street is that they are pretty peeved. Damn I hate when that happens.
But what has me scratching my head–this behavior–this standing by your man. Does it not seem the epitome of non feminist doctrine? Either of these two dolls could soar to such great heights without the albatross of a boob of a husband hung round their necks. Doesn’t being publicly humiliated by your husband’s sexual proclivity stand at a right angle to being a strong, independent, I don’t need a man kind of girl? Evidently not, since, as a nation, we are heaping rock star love on both gals. And at the same time discussing how brilliant, savvy and successful they are. The very guidepost of American Feminism. Pffft.
Perhaps it’s time to rewrite that definition. ‘Cuz I know this pitiable, stay at home, give up my life for my kids, sacrifice my career, depend on my husband for self worth because obviously I don’t have enough of my own, chick would have put up with that shit for about two seconds. But, hey, that’s just me and my simple ways. Go figure.