I hate that there is a bunch of white, middle-class, able bodied women that buy into beauty who can afford not to. I hate that they shave, wax and put on makeup in search of an impossible goal. That these actions change them, remove some of their individuality and turn them into symbols. I hate that the consumption of the products used will put money into the pockets of the advertisers who made women feel the need to do those stupid things in the first place. I hate that these actions add up to one big mindfuck for girls. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t hate it just for the pain it causes or the economic disadvantage it puts women at, I hate it because in my mind, these women are somehow traitors.
I hate that the first experience I had with online feminism was a FAQ that opened with an explanation of how hairy-legged feminists were just a myth. I hate that so-called feminists disavow me because they’re worried I might taint their image. Newsflash people: we are in a freaking patriarchy. Just by asserting a woman’s equality your image is already tainted.
I hate the shaming and the infighting. I hate that all of those hates acts as an obscuring mist between me and those who really deserve my hatred. I hate how women’s actions, her clothes, everything is always questioned when it is the dudes who need to change.
At some level I hate myself, I hate other women. It isn’t so surprising given that I’ve grown up in a culture where femaleness itself is a deformity.
I hate how very good I am at hating.