If you know me, you’ll know that I am an inherently angry person.
It’s just in my nature. I’m the sort of person who will lose their temper because somebody put a book back in the wrong place. I’ll get pissed off when someone sits next to me on an empty train. Some days, the mere fact that people are breathing the same air as me is enough to send me into a fit of fury.
I am an angry person. And I am definitely an angry feminist.
I know, I know – I shouldn’t admit this. I should be reassuring you all that I’m a nice and fluffy feminist who will hold your hand and calmly explain rape culture to you for the hundredth time. I’m supposed to smile and hand men cookies when they tell me that they wouldn’t rape me – EVEN IF I’d been drinking, because they’re such good allies. I’m meant to tell wary women that not all feminists are angry man-haters, in order to coax them into the movement.
As in all other walks of life, I’m supposed to be pleasant and docile and nice.
Well fuck being nice.[bctt tweet=”‘I’m an angry, shouty feminist – and I’m proud.'” username=”oawoodward”]
Why shouldn’t I be an angry feminist? The world sucks for women. The other day I was outside for two hours and got catcalled eight separate times by eight separate men. EIGHT.
I’m allowed to be pissed off that I can’t even walk down the road in peace. I am allowed to be angry that at some point people are going to expect me to choose between a career and a family, as if I can’t have both. I’m allowed to be furious that on the off chance I become dazzlingly famous, the media will be more interested in who designed my dress than the ideas in my brain. I am allowed to be livid men are praised to high heavens for criticizing patriarchal structures, while I’m told to shut up and find something new to talk about.
And I don’t even get the worst of it, being a white, middle class, able-bodied, straight woman. I have it easy compared to thousands upon thousands upon thousands of women in the world. If I’m allowed to be angry about the struggles I face in my life, these women are allowed to burn with the fiery rage of ten thousand suns
When I was 16, I was giving a talk to my peers about feminism, and my then-boyfriend told me ‘not to get all shouty’ otherwise nobody would take me seriously. In fact, I’ve spent my whole life being told that anger will get me nowhere; that if I really want to change things I have to calmly and rationally explain my position and then – and only then – will people listen.
Well I’m calling bullshit.
Women, feminists, females of the world – listen up. Be angry. Be furious. Be incandescent with rage. You have every right to be.[bctt tweet=”Be angry. Be furious. Be incandescent with rage.” username=”oawoodward”]
You have every right to scream and shout at this oppressive world and anyone who upholds its systems. Fuck anyone who tells you anger won’t get you anywhere. People always tell you not to fight fire with fire, but they never tell the other guys to put down the fucking matches. Fuck anyone who tries, yet again, to silence you.
At the risk of sounding like a t-shirt slogan, Fuck the Patriarchy.