It’s my 35th birthday soon, and being closer to 40 terrifies me a little.
So much time has passed, yet in relation to an average life expectancy, I’m not even halfway. Instead of dwelling on these thoughts, I’m choosing to focus on the journey that has been my life.
Since university, I’ve identified as a feminist. Although that’s a complex term with a shifting definition over the years, I see myself as an activist, particularly in the pursuit of women’s equality.
I’ve had silly, infuriating, and progressive conversations about unpacking the constructs this world places on women and women’s bodies. I’ve studied artists whose work protests violence, exclusion, and discrimination. I’ve read extensively to educate myself in areas where I’ve knowledge gaps.
I don’t always get it right. I carry inherent biases that I actively work to dismantle at every turn. I live in a specific context, which means I have a unique perspective that may not be applicable elsewhere. But because of all this, I speak up when words need to be heard, when perspectives need to be challenged, and I do everything I can not to look away from the harsh realities that women of all kinds face.
I’m often angered by the injustices I see, and this reaction is always met with dismissal because I’m “an angry woman.” But I’ve learned to ignore that tired rhetoric because if injustices don’t anger people, the problem isn’t me. It’s them.
If people aren’t willing to see things from a different perspective or change their patriarchal views, that’s on them—because I won’t let it change how loudly I speak. If people aren’t willing to listen to the voices of the oppressed, they are the problem, and I will continue to call them out.
Feminism and activism are uncomfortable because they should be fucking uncomfortable.
So many fundamental human rights have been weaponised as political talking points by those in power, and I choose not to be silent about this.
I will continue to call it out and hold myself and the people around me accountable for the damage this causes.
At 35, I’m not slowing down. I’m just getting started.
