Another recovered non-feminist chiming in! (I think we all go through that phase where being a feminist sounds like having an embarrassing skin condition or something.)

It’s so easy to convince yourself it’s fine. You smile and nod because it’s easier that way. When you leave the room and the Old Boys talk about how they could totally see your underwear through your dress—while you’re trying really hard just to be interesting (well shit—the game’s up. You found out my secret. I have a human body under these clothes. I’ll do better next time). When you find yourself laughing at sexist jokes because hey, what’s the harm? When you slip the word feminist into a conversation and suddenly everything’s weird, because you made it weird.

We just have to keep saying it until it’s not weird anymore.