This is a reminder to myself. About what happens when you go against your nature. Or rather, that which has been imposed and prescribed as your ‘nature’.
It is a reminder that I let the ‘team’ down. I have been called a ‘colluder’ and an ‘Uncle Tom’ and accused of ‘brownnosing’ who? Men? The ‘enemy’? Whilst these terms are rather OTT I understand why they are used.
It is a reminder that when I reject Feminism, I am rejecting ‘where I am from’. I am rejecting my Mother, and her mother. I am rejecting my own identity as a ‘woman’.
‘QRG: The whole world does not exist for you’ someone said. It’s not all about you. But our struggle to make sense of where we fit in the world is about us. It IS about me.
I don’t know if I can write Anti-Feminist. I don’t know if the author of Anti-Gay could have written Anti-Gay if he had have been born into ‘Gay’ identity politics. His ‘nature’ would have been inscribed on him long before his birth. Before his conception, even. It would have been his ancestory. I mean, I still feel bad when I have ambivalent thoughts about The Suffragettes. As if somehow I am betraying them too. Like they died for me and what thanks do I give them?
But I need to write something. I can’t just be having other people’s voices ringing in my ears all my life. I thought feminists were supposed to be into women’s autonomy? Their right to choose? Their self-expression. That is obviously bullshit. Someone has to call bullshit on that particular lie.
Anyway. I’m confused. I don’t know whether it really matters or not. Whether I really matter or not. Whether my story is just another comedy routine to go with all the others. Or if it has any value beyond my own little travelling theatre. I never was much one for acting.
I don’t know what to do.