10 Things I Totally Blame on Feminism

by Victoria Barrett

Image via  WikimediaCommons

Why blame your shitty life on circumstances or bad choices when there's an entire sociopolitical movement espoused by millions of people to blame instead? Here are ten ways feminism is ruining my otherwise perfect life. 

1. The baby's diaper blowout. Look, I was too busy making all of my choices to change his full diaper before he shit again, okay?

2. All of this really good sexing. Damn it, feminism, I need my beauty sleep. Now that I know I'm supposed to enjoy fucking and can, y'know, ask for what I want in the sack, there goes the full night's rest.

3. So there's this one person at work that I run into basically every day and he's kind of a dick and I have no poker face so I always kind of sneer at him and then I'm embarrassed for my own rudeness and it's all your fault, feminism, for my ability to have a job with coworkers and also he is one of those guys who calls himself a feminist, so it's your fault twice, feminism.

4. All this time my husband is spending with the babies being a good dad while I write or work or do my nails or whatever and I'm jealous and I miss them. Thanks a fucking lot, feminism, for making me demand a partner who plays an equal role in his children's lives.

5. All this time I'm spending with these delightful babies while my husband writes or works or does his nails or whatever. Because feminism insists that I multitask at all times, but then I get my phone out to check my email and the toddler grabs it and demands that we watch adorable videos of him giggling when he was a little baby, then the four-month-old starts giggling, too, and there goes the multitasking.

Read more: How I Used the Spice Girls' 'Wannabe' to Teach My 4-Year-Old Daughter About Feminism

6. Donald Trump. He's part of the backlash, right?

7. My guilt about my guilt about my thighs. I'm not supposed to want to bounce back after three pregnancies and two babies in three years, but I'd really like to wear pants with a waistband again some day, but I'm also not supposed to concern myself with my waistline. Never mind that my body images issues began long before my feminism did.

8. Susan Sarandon. Without watching Thelma and Louise while my feminism was nascent, I would never have given a rat's ass what Susan Sarandon thinks about anything, and would therefore not presently be so goddamn disappointed.

Read more: The Desperate Desires of a Middle-Aged Woman

9. Double strollers. Just another unmaneuverable way the world insists that we can have it all.

10. Global warming. C'mon feminism! Can't you start suppressing the birth rate in the third world already? Too slow, feminism.


Victoria Barrett's fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Glimmer Train, Salon, PANK, and other outlets. She lives and writes in a house full of men and boys (even the pets) and tries not to feel too bad about it.