Monday, January 26, 2009

Unphenomenal Woman, That's Me

Somebody recently called me a Feminist. I've been called many things; crazy, bitch, obsessive-compulsive. Hell, there has even been the occasional "C" word thrown in a few times for good measure. But I don't think I've ever been called a Feminist.

I am the sort of person who does not make a habit of aligning myself with particular groups of people. I am not a Christian by name, nor a Pagan. I spent a few years dutifully running around with The Mommies, but I abandoned that social order as soon as I possibly could. I am not an entrepreneur, as I do not currently own my own business. I am not a house-wife, as I do have a paying career (it just happens to be from my own house). I am not a philanthropist, though I do as much charitable work as I can manage. I don't like labels.

What I am is Myself. My status as Mother and Wife does not immediately classify me with any of the social assumptions about those positions. I am a writer. I am driven to write in much the same way I am driven to breath. My life is spent writing-- everything I do, every small task I accomplish, is done with a running monologue in my mind. But I am not full of angst, suffering for my craft. I am a crafter. I love creating lovely little things then giving them away to spread love and joy to others. Everybody should have at least a few handmade items in their home.

I am all of these things, and many more. But I am also none of these things. Any moment I might decide to pack away the sewing machine, or change my name and disappear into the wild blue yonder. I do these things not because they are who I am, but because I enjoy them. I am wary of being labeled "Feminist" because I just think that I truly am NOT a Feminist. "The Stepford Wives" is one of my favorite movies. When I'm ironing my family's clothes, I often sigh and think how wonderful it would be to be a brainwashed robot and not care that I have to do housework. To me, that sounds like freedom.

Some have said that my forging ahead and creating a career of my writing makes me a Feminist. That following my dream is what Feminism is all about. But I worry about the dichotomy there. Writing isn't a choice for me-- it is something that I am constantly, unrelentlessly driven to. By the same token, so is Motherhood. I am driven to have children. To raise them, teach them, play with them. Even to sew monsters for them. I cannot do both if I label myself. I cannot be Feminist and Stay-at-home parent. Every stitch I sew for my son is one stitch away from Feminism, and every word I am paid for is another word away from Mommy.

Call me what you want. But I know that I do not fit into any category. I am simply me, getting through my days.


This post is being cross-posted at the Oxdown Gazette. I have been invited to become a regular poster there, and will do my best not to cross-post much, so keep an eye out here and at Oxdown for more TFM!

1 comment:

  1. For what it is worth, I wouldn't call you a feminist. I guess I could see where someone might arrive at that idea if they had never met a full blown feminist or if they did not know you very well. At first I kind of got that impression, then I got to know you better.
    I'm glad you posted your blog again, I lost it when I lost my laptop :( Now I have it again, and it's made me want to start blogging again, so I am, yay! :)