Who Run The World?

Upon branding myself as a founder of something as public as this press, I’ve felt defensive.

Note: let’s acknowledge that we, the founders of Pear Shaped Press, are three white women who understand the advantages that grants. So take the word ‘defensive’ here with a grain of salt. But, positioning myself as someone who wishes to celebrate and elevate intersectionality, while examining my bias, is another blog entirely.

This is more a matter of deflecting the negative connotations and judgements that come along with the word Feminist.

With a capital F.

My favorite definition has become: the equality of genders — a simple mantra to come back to. Maybe because it utterly hides my gender while still allowing me to stand up for what I feel is just. Because somehow a male feminist still seems to derive more power in his declaration to be so, rather than a woman.

‘Hiding my gender’ sounds more cowardly and intentional than I’d like. I’ve simply never been one to celebrate my femininity overtly. But lately I’ve been questioning everything.

  • Do I write mostly male main characters because that’s the majority of what I’ve read in books or seen in movies?
  • Do I wear a t-shirt, jeans, and a ponytail because I like to be comfortable or because some primal instinct in me thinks it’s closer to portraying the male gender and is therefore stronger?
  • Do I struggle to make female friends because I subconsciously use the inckling bait of sex as leverage to align myself with only men of a certain authority or advantage?

The Gemini in Me

Readers, I have a confession. I…am indecisive. I can’t pick a lunch spot for my life and when I was young, my mother would take me to Target with my monthly allowance and I would stand in the toy isle choosing between Barbies for hours on end.

The adult version of these struggles manifested once I first heard the term “Internalized Misogyny,” or, the idea that our patriarchal society had somehow robbed me of my free will and I didn’t even see it coming.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve been told that if a boy is mean to me, he probably likes me.

I suppose this is a long-winded way to say that I’m struggling to sift through and pinpoint what exactly the F word means to me. I tend to cringe at the men-bashing side of feminism because I believe it should be a positive, all-inclusive movement of empowerment. But then the thought of “Or is that my personal version of the ‘Not All Men’ argument?” ruined everything I thought I stood for. Do I genuinely believe that the majority of people (despite their genders) are GOOD or am I being naive?

I’m Still Defining Myself, And That’s Okay

Truth is, it’s probably deeper than that; behaviors that are ingrained in all of us. And I am by no means steeped in the extensive discourse of the subject of Internalized Misogyny. And maybe as I write this, I’m just feeling triggered, as the kids say. But I’ve come to the conclusion that my own hyper-awareness is at the very least a step in the right direction. I’ve found pride in my questioning, because I am not questioning myself per say but the society I am a partial product of.

Megan