I have a bug.
I’ve been thinking about feminism. Probably too much. Couching. Ruminating.
About how I walk around and am either joyfully grateful that I have knocked screens with some of nhà cái tặng tiền cược miễn phí tháng 2019the most articulate, real, insightful, and inspiring WOC writers I have ever read OR I straggle around this planet, aching for more passion, community, and sisterhood. I WANT to be blown away by the world. I want to be surprised and shocked and shaken.
I sulk because I am not.
On someone’s blog a few weeks ago, a comment accused the blogger of being jealous of a famous feminist, a mainstreamer. I thought long and hard about that accusation; the accusation that a feminist would be jealous of another feminist because of her fame and power. Am I jealous? Even though the comment wasn’t directed toward me, could I be? I forced myself to take a five minute look into my own eyes in the mirror. (Try it, you’ll be amazed by what you feel.)
Among many attributes, I am also jealous, whiny, short-sighted, impatient, and self-centered.
I’m completely jealous. I am. I am pissed and jealous that mainstream feminists are hooked to more resources and can attend conferences, meetings, and rallies that most of us can’t afford, whereas other WOC feminists have to campaign and find funds to get to grassroots organizational conferences. I like my nobody-ness, but I hate what that means in terms of being HEARD. I’m absolutely whiny about the state of indifference toward women in developing countries, forgetting that their SURVIVAL is in question and, yes, I find that a bit more imploring than Hillary vs. Obama. Short-sightedness feeds my inability to consider privileged liberal women who keep their organic ink pens flowing and ears closed. I’m totally self-centered. All I do is think about my fears and how I STILL cannot overcome the self-hate, euro-centric brainwashing of White society, how I still don’t know how to BE and receive the world with all its violent imperfections, flawed feminism, and phony leadership.
Today’s another pissed off, restless day.
I’m sick of this bug and I want to shake it off. Permanently.
Any suggestions? (Besides feminist anger management)