Rad Fem

So, here we go.

A few months ago we had the Rad Fem conference – remember the one? Where anyone opposed to Rad Fem or wasn’t born with a vagina (no matter how much they wanted to be) couldn’t go. It’s taken me a while to figure out what – underneath it all – really bugs me about these people. I met one a few months ago, and she identifies with every label going, whilst still throwing her hands in the air, crying ‘Don’t Label Me!’

In a little flash of inspiration, I just thought/remembered what it is I don’t like about rad fems; they take all that’s good, and fun and joyful out of being A Girl.

We’re allowed to have girly moment’s! We shouldn’t feel like we’re Betraying The Sisterhood because we like pink, or sex, or men, or baking, or step aerobics to make our bums look good, or bras, or shaving our legs, or rampant rabbits or high heels, or short skirts, or make-up, or perms, or glitter, or smiling when a man opens a door, or getting butterflies when they walk on the right hand side of the road, or do that thing where they guide you to a spot by putting their hand in the small of your back. (Don’t you just love that?). We’re not betraying ANYONE if we live out a prostitution or rape fantasy with a trusted partner. I don’t think it’s killing anyone that I enjoyed sex-work, or straighteners, or crimping my hair, or hair extensions, or false lashes, or Geordie Shore.

I’m going to keep on wearing spanx, and giving blow-jobs, and – when the time comes – stuffing so much botox into my face you could smash a bus on it. I’ll pick up a mans pants, give a girlish giggle at his jokes, and make compromises if I ever have a relationship because that’s equality. That’s being human.

And I believe all this because, when I look back at my life, I can’t see a thing that Rad Fem has done for me.

The Suffragettes sorted out the vote – nice one girls. And lots of lovely ladies have done things for other lovely ladies to come. But being so ‘radical’ that you start to exclude people, you exclude other women because of what they enjoy just makes me want to exclude them, because I won’t miss them and this supposed ‘Sisterhood’ we should be so fucking proud of.

Where was the sisterhood when I was growing up? Where was it in my all girl’s school when I was being bullied for being fat, wearing the wrong shoes, or generally just not being good enough? Where was the sisterhood when I was being pushed over, kicked and poked just because of my size? Where was the sisterhood when I stood up to them, told teachers (female teachers), and it ended in more suffering? I’ll tell you where the sisterhood was – smoking behind the bikesheds and glaring at the boys. Because that’s it, isn’t it. It’s so much easier to lay blame at someone else’s door than look at how you, yourself, might be damaging someone else.

I had no sisterhood growing up. Instead, I grew up with my dad, and the one thing he didn’t know what How To Be A Girl. So he didn’t even try and pretend. He just told me I could do whatever I wanted to do – no matter how ridonkalously ambitious (although, he put a cap on ‘Fire Engine’). So, I grew up with pretty much no female interaction, other than Bad Interaction until I was in my final years of school. And – apart from the whole sex-work thing – am pretty sure it didn’t do me any harm.

It’s not radicalism we need, it’s humanism. We need to be able to look at a 40 year old dad and his 14 year old daughter and not say ‘Hmm…something funny going on there’. We need to look into his eyes and see the same petrified expression any dad would give (although, lets times it by 10,000 as there’s no mum around right now) when she tells him she needs a bra, or might be having her period, or thinks she’s got a boyfriend, or when she find’s out she hasn’t got a boyfriends, but it’s too late….

 

I just can’t identify with rad fems. I’m sorry Ladies.

Thing is, you just weren’t there when I needed you, and I’m not sure if your daughters will be there for my daughter. When she’s in school, will Jocasta, and Violet, and Lysandra take her under their wing? Or will they denounce her for being my daughter? Will they bully her for being overweight, or not wearing the right shoes? Or coming from the wrong background?

Or will they do what my Rad Fem did – bully her about not wearing the right clothes, and then go on a ‘Journey of Self Discovery’ using her dads money – the same money that bought her nice clothes, and the right shoes – and coming back and screaming ‘AREN’T YOU DOING WELL?!’ before putting her arms around me, 18 years too late, and just forgetting – because we’re all part of The Sisterhood, right? – that she was a complete bitch.

I’m glad she feels the need to have hairy pits, just to prove a point.

I haven’t told her about the show, she just bumped into me at Latitude where I immediately thrust my ‘Performers’ wristband in her face, and wandered off to use the nice backstage toilets whilst she collected her she-wee.

I hope it broke.

 

 

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3 Responses to “Rad Fem”

  1. Ruby Says:

    I hope ALL her she-wee’s break! Great writing as usual Miss M. I wasn’t fat as a kid but I never had the right shoes either and I feel your pain xx

  2. Rad Fem | Sex Worker Blogs Says:

    […] By Miss M […]

  3. Rad Fem | Sexworker Blogs Says:

    […] Rad Fem […]

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