Why burn your bra… when you can be all woman… frills and all… (another note on love or something like it)

I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again… I’m a feminist, but I’ll still wear my bra, occasionally wear make-up, shave what I feel needs shaving, wear a dress when I want to… I celebrate my feminity and don’t get women who think appearing androgynous is “hip”.. I am a woman and I love it! I most definitely do NOT see why I must masculate (sic) myself to show that I’m a feminist….

Now that that’s out of the way… let me rant… from my girl-in-a-frilly-dress feminist stance..

I am tired of hearing women pine about how inadequate they are.. or how they need a man to make them “whole”.. Yes, Beyonce and Rihanna, I’m talking to you! I’m all for relationships, long walks off short bridges and watching large amorphous gases from another universe shine brightly over my head at dusk.. I really am… In fact I am more than a closet romantic. My flat smells of lavender and camomile and at one point I genuinely thought Prince Charmings exist… hmmm… I actually still do! I’ve watched The Notebook five times and have cried EVERY SINGLE TIME.. that said, my self-worth is not and cannot ever be “completed” by any one – male, female, goat or cow… I don’t believe in being completed by anything or anyone, I believe in complementarity. I believe that people do not make us better, but that we are the only ones responsible for our own betterment.. So, no I will not be shaking my not so ample booty and asking some boy to put a ring on it ’cause he likes it… what’s a piece of worthless jewellery anyway if the person who bestows it loves me not… wholly, truly and completely?

I fear that most of us are not honest with ourselves… those of us who claim it (I suppose I should include myself here) often find ourselves not pursuing our own goals, but those of a society that has never really cared much for our enhancement… So, here’s to firmly putting your feet on the ground, mastering your destiny and not making excuses. If Prince Charming happens to stop in his modern chariot, then good for him, but he better know the wonders of a push-up bra wearing empowered 21st century woman…

It’s 2009… I cook, I clean, I like the smell of roses, I know how to tie a tie… I also wake up early to go to work, make my opinion heard in meetings full of testosterone and chauvinistic male egos, do what needs doing and do it pretty darn well… I’m also not afraid to say it. Society placed a wall in front of me, I stood back and wondered whether to try go round it, dig a hole and go under it, go back from whence I came… or bulldoze my way through society’s firm veil… 23years on, I look back at the dilapidated wall behind me… achievement it is, but with it I have lost my one key defence… I can no longer say “but I am a woman”… If the box needs lifting, let it be lifted… If the race needs winning… on your marks… get set….

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