Checking My Feminism

I’m pretty confident with my feminism. Yes, sometimes I have to check my privilege or need reminders to think critically, but all in all, I trust myself to always take a third-wave-feminist perspective.

Well, last week I failed at that. Luckily I had my amazing 17-year-old cousin visiting to keep me in check.

Last Friday, at the end of an interview with the CEO of a company I’d be OVERJOYED to have the opportunity to work at, I was told I’d be receiving a job offer the following week. I could barely keep my voice steady as I responded, “I look forward to hearing from you!” (The squeaking with excitement didn’t happen until I had fully quit Skype… Just in case…)

However, after the initial shock and excitement, I started to worry and question things, as I tend to do.

My concerns stemmed from the fact that my boyfriend works at this company. I already cringe when anyone tries to imply that I’m moving to the Bay just to be with him. So, in my head all I could think was, “What is it going to look like if we work for the same company? Will it look like I don’t have my own life? Will it look like I’m afraid to get out on my own? Will it look like I need a partner in everything I do?”

This is when my cousin’s voice of feminist reason brought me out of this downward spiral of concerns,

“AnnE. Isn’t it just as bad to not take a job you want
just because your boyfriend is there?” 

She let that sink in for a minute then said,

“Why don’t you just do what you want? Do what’s best for you?
And don’t take him into account either way?”

sOh. Right. That’s the kind of feminist I am. As soon as she said that, I was back. Being a feminist doesn’t mean avoiding and trying to dissociate with men, it means doing what’s best for me and only taking those factors into account. And it NEVER means worrying about “what other people think” or “what something will look like to others.” It’s easy to forget that sometimes, which is one of many reasons I love my feminist friends who keep me in check. My cousin’s voice of reason was echoed by other friends later that night. No one said, “Oh, but isn’t that where your boyfriend works?” Everyone was excited for me. The judgment I anticipated was only in my head.

So for the third time this semester, I learned what it means to be a Scrippsie and a feminist. We don’t do what others expect. We don’t do something just for a boyfriend. (And for that matter, we don’t NOT do something because of a boyfriend.)

We do what we want.

And I want this job.

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