I Am A Horrible Feminist And Proud Of IT

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I always loved to cook. I always took joy in cleaning and doing chores. I eagerly learnt how to sew and knit from my mother long time ago. I love make up, dresses, shoes, bags and anything to do with fashion. Taking care of my husband gives me an immense pleasure. Putting clean, fresh clothes in cupboards fulfills my senses. Staying at home, taking care of my son is a blessing that I am forever thankful for. So in other words: I am a horrible feminist and I am proud of it!

 

Yes, I am educated, and aware that we are in the 21st century. I realize that in a way I am no different than my mother or grandmother, and this doesn’t bother me, because I know I also spend a lot  of time reading, writing, taking courses, listening to podcasts, and doing lots of early morning Taichi and Qigong. I work hard to expend my creativity and productivity, and cooking or cleaning does no harm to this process! To me being a great wife, mother, daughter, and friend, goes hand in hand with being a feminist! I am strong enough to be building the next generation on great values and raising my kids to be kind, smart, and to become productive members in their community. I am strong enough to hold my family together and make sure everyone is fed, dressed, and well rested! I am strong enough to witness the blossoming of the girl/woman in me. I am strong enough to not want to be equal to a man! Yes, you read it correctly! I am not equal to a man! I admit it and I actually enjoy it! I gave birth to a soon-to be man, whom I hope to be a great one just like his father. My mother gave birth to two amazing sons who grew up to be successful, smart and very kind men! We are half of the population and we give birth to the other half, so do the math! Can we ever be equal? And why should it matter anyway?? I never do anything without taking my husband’s advice, does that make me any less of a woman? I don’t think so! He is my other half and I trust him and his wise judgment. He does the same too, does it make him any less of a man? Of course not! I am also aware that there are tasks that I can’t perform so I leave them to him, and I am so grateful that he is always happy to help. I would probably go crazy if on top of all the things I have to do, I had to change the light bulbs, or take my car for the annual service, or any of the other MANLY tasks. In our household we both believe that some things are meant to be done by men and others by women, and it works amazingly!

 

Pink is not my favorite color, but I have no problem with girls/women who like pink, or take tons of selfies, or never leave the house without make-up and heals, or go for manicures and pedicures every other day. I am one of them, and to me they are enjoying themselves, they are being feminine, and enjoying their FEMINISM!

 

Why do we always link feminism to men? Or to being the worst version of ourselves? Why destroy the beautiful image that our mothers and grandmothers built through out the years? Why can’t we enjoy being who we are; it most definitely doesn’t stop us from being smart, educated, wise, strong, ……. etc.

 

My grandmother asked for a divorce when she was 25,  in a time when this wasn’t acceptable in her community. She did so because her husband wanted to take a second wife. She took the pressure and all the hardships that followed her decision with an open heart. She went through it all, while cooking for her daughters, cleaning her house, sewing clothes for her kids…. etc. So you see, you can be a great feminist while still being feminine. The two go in parallel together. You don’t have to drop your feminine side to be a feminist, you don’t have to stop shaving or start showing up naked, or fight with everyone who says breastfeeding is too much nudity! You can be exactly who you are, who you were destined to be, a pretty girl (and when I say pretty I don’t mean the face, but also the mind!).

 

So yes, I am a proud horrible feminist, and I intend to be this way for the rest of my life.

 

Ouiam

 

How Old Are You?

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If you didn’t know how old you were, how old would you think you were??? I probably would think i was 32! (I am actually 29).If you asked me last year, or the year before it, I would have definitely said 18!! When people say age is just a number, I totally disagree and think it is plain nonsense! Age is experiences, tornadoes, springs and falls! Smiles and tears gathered to shape your life forever! It is ups and downs, failures-lots of them- It is moments when you think you’ve nailed it and others when you sink into your own misery! So how can all that be as simple as a number! Few weeks ago, I celebrated my 29th birthday! The same day my Taichi master, wisely commented that my face looked very young whereas my eyes screamed wisdom and old age! She saw it as the result of being a mom! Myself, i think in the last year i have grown in so many ways, that I no longer wanted to be 18, 22 or even 29! I wanted to be old and wise and have few more grey hairs! This came to my own surprise, because I have never wished to be older! I always wanted to be younger and even at 22 I felt already old! Too old to be the silly little girl I was and still is! The thing about growing up, is that although we look back with a faint smile and probably some shy tears, to the old us, the old memories, and always say: “Yup! those were the best days of my life”, we still somehow believe that the best is yet to come! With time, we get better at growing up, at being ourselves, at being in our own skin, even if that skin is getting wrinkly and old!

After retiring from being a teacher, my mother decided that she wanted to do more, and she did it! She pursued her PhD in Islamic Studies, a subject she was always fond of. She never complained that she was old or that she hated aging! To me she always appeared to be in her forties! She seems to get better with age. With every passing year, she seems to be a little closer to the woman she wants to be! That is how I want to do it! I am now closer to my thirties than I was last year! And just the thought of it, fills me with excitement and anticipation. What will this new decade bring into my life? More wisdom? More knowledge? More laughs and more tears? More grey hairs and maybe even more babies?! Who knows?

We open magazines and we see gorgeous, young, skinny, beautiful girls, in bikinis, a glowing skin and a perfect body shape, and we decide- or we let them decide for us- that that is the norm! Every woman should always look young, pretty, skinny. Basically, a woman should never age! So we fight our own bodies and minds and we get ourselves into a constant battle to reach to the norm! We get irritated at each birthday because it can only mean a step closer to being out of the norm! We are forced to believe that better is young! But somehow we all know –in the deepest parts of our beings- that better is actually NOW! Wherever we are, at any stage, we all know that we are NOW our finest selves!

So again, how old are you really? Forget about the aching knees and the grey hairs, forget about the young face and the beautiful skin. Isolate yourself from all these stuff, and tell me how old you really are??? How old you think you are?

Ouiam