The Rages of a Part-Time Feminist, Full-Time Barrier Destroyer

I consumed a healthy dose of derogatory quotes about women this week while studying society 1950s and writing a paper about love and marriage in the 17th century.

It started with things like this from Luther:

“The entire female body was created for the purpose of nurturing children” and “Women are not created for any other purpose than to serve and to be his [man’s] assistant in producing children.”

And Then Life Magazine from the 1950s came along and said,

AND I can read.
and I'm a Mormon:)
“Of all the accomplishments of the American woman, the one she brings off with the most spectacular success is having babies.”
Followed by “Books and babies don’t mix.”

I'm a woman. I can cook.


















Nothing sets me off like me off like preconceived, accepted notions that are so obviously offensive yet apparently not for their time.

Although I often talk about the many men in my head (like Hobbes, Napoleon, Machiavelli, Marx, Tolstoy, etc), there are plenty of women-folk up there too who just go berserk when anything slightly anti-feminist comes up.
They sure know how to cause a riot up there with the screaming and hunger striking and all, even when I don’t consider myself a full-time feminist.

I think I’m just obsessed with the concept of breaking down social barriers and doing things outside the norm (thank you lessons and stories from history).

Which is why I continue to think that pretending to be a bush is a good idea to avoid small talk. (Okay, I admit I’ve had better ideas of doing things outside the norm).

And so even though I am not opposed to wearing lip stick (because actually I’m kind of obsessed with lip-wear) and being womanly (or however you describe that….it’s different from being lady-like), if someone tells me I need to act like a submissive, picture-perfect lady, we (my headstrong women upstairs and I) go into rebellion mode.
Which maybe is an authority issue.
#midblogexistentialcrisis

Anyways. I’m not against mothers. Or being a mother. Actually, I’m super excited about that upcoming part of time (upcoming meaning in the next two decades?) and I just adore my mom for being brilliant and loving and I’m thankful she stayed home with us when we were growing up.  But she did it with mucho brain-power.
However I don’t think being the perfect wife or giving birth to three children was her sole purpose (though I imagine it definitely helped her achieve many goals and desires she had).

And she’s definitely had more successes in life than going through repeated labor. Though I can’t actually attest to that for sure. I just feel like the way Life Magazine phrased it implied that birthing babies was an art that should be measured and critiqued to judge the value of a woman. Which is false. Duh.
And back to attacking aforementioned quotes, my mom has definitely mixed books and babies without disastrous results. Unless you consider turning all your kids into bookworms an adverse effect, that is. 

So these are the thoughts I’ve tried to control as I’ve spent the week writing papers about love and marriage during the Reformation, about the 18th century empresses of Russia (who are admirably stubborn and strong-willed), and about the wussy women who were idolized in the 1950s.

Maybe that’s why I started bench pressing again.
And stopped cleaning even though I actually love homemaking.
#endofblogexistentialcrisis

Still figuring out how to deal with authority issues and rebel in a healthy way. This week it was definitely via raging feminist thoughts.

Though we women may be kick-trash mothers, sisters, or daughters, our talents and skills go way beyond that too. And we will repeatedly tell you so and then prove it.  

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