I Need Feminism Because…

I need feminism because when I went to a baby shower this weekend and told a relative that I don’t need a boyfriend or a husband, she ridiculed me for the rest of the party.

I need feminism because when I told my great aunt that I don’t like typical southern foods, she told me that I would have a hard time finding a husband.

I need feminism because when I tell people that I have severe driving anxiety, they assume that I just can’t drive because I’m a woman.

I need feminism because when I got a boyfriend last semester, a family friend asked if I was finally pursuing my MRS degree.

I need feminism because my anger and frustration and sadness is often dismissed with statements like “it must be that time of the month.”

I need feminism because there are “I need feminism because” parodies.

I need feminism because my mother doesn’t consider herself a feminist.

I need feminism because my ex boyfriend cried in front of me and was ashamed because his father always told him to “be a man.” Ironically, he was crying over the death of his father.

I need feminism because the same ex boyfriend was a self-proclaimed antifeminist.

I need feminism because the previously mentioned ex boyfriend didn’t take me seriously when I said “no” and “stop” because society taught him that if I’m laughing or smiling when I say it, I don’t actually mean it.

I need feminism because, for years, I felt like it was my fault that I was sexually abused when I was in elementary school.

I need feminism because when I tell people I’m a feminist, I’m sometimes laughed at and told that I don’t need feminism because I’ve never been oppressed because of my gender.

I need feminism because images like this exist:

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