Feminism Farce

the farce of feminism

That’s a screenshot of a casual tweet I sent. In the past, I’ve also often wondered how people can talk so terribly about celebrities (especially during awards shows) and not see how terrible it must feel to read those things about oneself. How can we tear that woman down, but build this woman up, and think we’re doing anything positive for ourselves? We can’t. That’s the farce of feminism, isn’t it? We can judge her, and still be great feminists because look at us over here standing up against inequality!

I wouldn’t survive celebrity, I’m sure of it. I was recently part of a Canon ad, and I want to share some of the comments about the video from their FB page. Most of the negative comments were from women, is that a surprise? But I’ll share just two of each. And I guess since they all left these comments on a public Facebook page that they’re ok with their names being on their words.

What I find interesting about this first one is that this woman actually has a mutual friend with me. So I’m not some imaginary person, I’m someone she could potentially run into in the community. We aren’t actors, so perhaps that’s why it was poor acting? I bet if this woman is a mother and someone said things like that about her child, she’d be outraged. And I don’t know what’s more confusing — her criticism of the acting, or the fact that she can’t understand that it’s a commercial.

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And this. This is what this young woman decided to comment on? My pants? They weren’t tights, by the way. Not that it matters because I can wear whatever the hell I want and that doesn’t give you the right to negatively comment on it, does it?

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This gentleman needs to vomit from how fake A COMMERCIAL was. As opposed to the rest of the media he consumes, which I assume is so real it hurts, right?

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And then there was this comment about my size. I would rather have someone call me fat, honestly. The idea that some anonymous troll derived some sexual pleasure out of my size makes ME want to vomit.

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She looks terrible in that dress.
Did she sleep her way into that job?
If only they didn’t look so skanky. 
Her makeup is so trashy.
She’s just so ugly.
She’s too fat. She’s too skinny.
Are her boobs real?
She needs a nose job.
Oh my god, she’s had work done to her face.

Can you just imagine how you would feel reading these things about your daughter? Do you think that celebrities, or anyone on the internet isn’t real? Would you feel proud if your child was leaving these comments?

My disappointment about how women talk about (and to) other women is overwhelming. I don’t want my daughter growing up thinking her wardrobe is anyone’s business but her own. Her size doesn’t matter, and your opinions about her don’t count. But I also don’t participate in this kind of conversation because that’s not the behaviour I want to model.

Do you? Is that really how you want to be known?

What kind of feminism is this that allows us to protect our own and unscrupulously take down every other female? I don’t want to be a part of that feminism.

You’re beautiful.
You’re smart and important.
The things that make you different make you special.
I love you.
You’re valued.
You have amazing things to contribute to this world.
Your insecurities do not define you, and I won’t allow them to define me, either.

Let’s be better. Let’s be kinder.