Learning and Loving Pink

When I think of my journey to becoming the outspoken “screw the patriarchy and anyone who upholds it! ” type feminist that I am today, I often reflect on my earliest feminist idea—an idea that has become a quirky anecdote that I sometimes share with others. You see, I have only recently fully accepted my love of the colour pink. Although I think I’ve always loved that colour, a part my “feminist ideology” in my more primitive years didn’t allow me to see that. Now, I have pink pillows, pink bags, cute pink accessories and as I am writing this, my hair is pink. In hindsight, I can see how stubborn a six-year-old I must have been to proudly proclaimthat I would never own anything pink and to loudly declare ,to anyone who would listen, that my favourite colour was actually blue (in truth, I never liked blue that much) . Six-year-old me didn’t have the language to say ,“I refuse to conform to traditional gender norms”, so I instead simply said the pink is for girls, blue is for boys “rule” was extremely stupid (I think that was eloquent enough for a kindergartener ) . In retrospect, I am proud that at such a young age I had the courage and social awareness to recognize the flaws in such a rule and to challenge its premise in whatever small ways I could. I am even more proud that ,today, my thinking has evolved far beyond appropriate colour choices to equally important ,but more sophisticated topics. Hence, with the depth of thought I displayed at only six and my development as a feminist , it is no surprise that when I was scrolling through my Facebook feed and saw a young woman boldly declare that she hated feminists, a profound feeling of offense and aggravation overtook me.

Seeing that the post garnered numerous likes and positive reactions, even from other women, confused me. Thus, like any outspoken feminist would do, I decided to share all my knowledge of feminist theory and real-world examples to show this obviously confused woman why feminism has been ,and continues to be, beneficial to us all . Okay, I’m a liar. In reality, I instantly went to her profile and unfriended her while scornfully muttering to myself that, “all the benefits of feminism should be stripped from her if she truly hates feminists that much!”. Thankfully, I eventually forgot the post and continued scrolling after calming down. Nevertheless, there was an ever-present voice whispering in the back of my head saying that I was being quite hypocritical about the young lady’s abhorrence of feminists. The nagging voice grew progressively louder and it eventually compelled me to do some introspection, of which the result was me admitting that my journey to becoming the feminist that I am today wasn’t perfect. My self-analysis specifically caused me to remember a time in my life when I both rejected the word feminism itself and one of my worst fears was being labeled a feminist.

Around the early 2010’s as my childish views on feminism subsided and I became more aware of the ideology and politics of the feminist movement, I gravitated towards it more than ever before. More specifically, I loved that feminism was a cause that aimed to shape numerous aspects of society as they should be—fair for all regardless of gender, race or sexual orientation. However, I quickly discovered that despite feminism’s central tenant of achieving equality, it still had many detractors. And as an impressionable teenager who habitually internalized the disapproval of such detractors, I thought that maybe I had it wrong. That is, back then I may have perhaps believed that my Facebook friend, who everyone else seemed to agree with, had good reason to hate feminists. By subconsciously adopting the anti-feminist rhetoric I often heard, I rejected the label feminist and became a self-described equalist. Hence, when engaging in face-to-face or online discussions about the importance of equality or critiquing misogyny, for instance, I made it a habit to pre-empt my opinions by saying that “I’m not a feminist but…”. After extending my equalist olive branch of sorts in these conversations, I would go on to support explicitly feminist values while trying to convince myself, and those listening to me, that I was rightfully rejecting feminism (Wild, I know). My hope was that my equalist points of view would make me more palatable to people who saw feminists as bad people.

Thinking about the awkward, confused teenager that I was only a few years ago, it can be challenging not to feel ashamed of the mental gymnastics I once performed to denounce feminism while simultaneously making inherently feminist arguments. In addition to accepting that pink is indeed my favourite colour, I also have a newfound realization that my intellectual and social growth did not occur via a linear progression. More simply, my own feminist ideas have always (and will continue to) constantly evolved. Therefore, although I have no idea why my former Facebook friend hates feminists, my personal development has led me to cut her some slack because It has forced me to confront the embarrassingly asinine opinions, I once had at various points along my feminist journey. A part of me wants to revisit my former Facebook friend’s post and simply ask her why she hates feminists. Another part of me believes that her opinions might change ,all on her own, just as mine did. Regardless of her progression though, one thing for certain is that I will continue to be a “screw the patriarchy and anyone who upholds it” feminist—all while loving pink!