Make a kid associate trans women with that really nice lady who they thought might have been a guy at first. Make them remember the time when they got your pronouns wrong and you corrected them and said it was all good after they apologized when they hear about trans people being belligerent about their pronouns.

When I was younger I didn’t believe in feminism.

And you know why? It wasn’t because I didn’t need it, as some people say. I desperately needed it. No, it was because the culture in which I lived was so saturated with sexism that I didn’t even realize it wasn’t normal or good.

I rewatched one of my old favorite movies lately, from the early 2000s, and I almost cried as I realized, in retrospect, how sexist it was. Because when I was younger I didn’t see anything wrong with cheerleaders being portrayed as boy-crazy and ditzy and I cheered on the men who shamed them for the way they dressed.

And, I don’t know. I think I just want guys to understand.

I’m friends with a lot of really good guys. Most of them would probably call themselves feminists, too.

But you know what?

It was a little upsetting when I told one of my best friends about guys yelling at me and my friends to take our clothes off as they saw us go by on the river, and my friend’s response was “Well, fishing can get boring.” He was kidding, and didn’t understand why I got so upset…but that’s because, no matter how good a person he is, as a man, he has a privilege that makes him unable to understand why it’s not funny.

It’s upsetting that my little brother’s best friend casually commented that he thought his own sister was probably faking the severity of her menstrual cramps.

It’s upsetting that my best friend’s fiancé doesn’t understand why a sexually explicit and derogatory song (even when it’s satirical) would make us uncomfortable.

It’s just upsetting.

It’s upsetting that every time I see a man stranded by the side of the road and want to stop to help him, I have to remind myself that it’s probably not safe, as a woman, to do so.

It’s upsetting that I’m one of the few among my friends who hasn’t been raped or sexually assaulted in some way.

And when I was younger, I didn’t get any of this. I accepted it all as normal.

I understand it now. I’m a feminist now.

And I need feminism because I don’t want any more little girls to grow up thinking that it’s normal for boys to try to lift up her skirt; to just be embarrassed and not tell an adult. I don’t want to someday have a daughter who thinks she’s not pretty if she’s not wolf-whistled on the street, and yet feels uncomfortable or even frightened when she is.

Stop Waiting For Permission

Let me tell you for a moment about the stars: They have been aligned for a while wondering when you would look up and set your soul to imitate their resplendence.   Stars do not know hesitation like you do. Unruly, their light shines, day or night. Never have I known them to first inquire of the Moon as to whether it needed any help.   Hovering hands make more of your signature than the marks…