International Women’s Day

Just coming out of study-imposed blog hibernation to post some musings on International Women’s Day. Now, this post could be a link list of stories which explain why we so desperately need this, by highlighting the abuse and violence women and girls undergo every day solely on the basis of their gender.  It could be a refutation of the oft-heard complaint that there is no International Men’s Day (wrong on two counts: one, every day is International Men’s Day, and two: there is in fact an actual International Men’s Day, it’s the 19^th November). It could be an opportunity to muse and reflect upon my own feminism – how I define it (progressive, liberal, intersectional, since you ask), and how I can strive to improve it.

Today I don’t want to do any of those things.

Today I want to shout loudly from the internet rooftops how much I LOVE the women in my life – IRL, here on the interwebz, known to me and famous, alive and dead, feminist or otherwise. You all rock my fucking world, and even when the world is a dark and depressing place you make me really, truly believe that we can change it – because how can the world not be improved without all of you in it?

This post is for all the bloggers that I follow who have helped me grow and enrich and improve my feminism. This post is for all the fabulous ladies of Twitter who have so deftly harnessed a social platform to call for social justice. It’s for all of the incredible critics and writers and poets who I turn to again and again to remind myself both how rich the cultural world is with women in it and how varied. It’s for all the campaigners who risk a spectrum of patriarchal aggression running from public ridicule to summary execution for daring to speak up and speak out against the daily indignities meted out on their fellow women. It’s for my sisters, and my cousins, my aunties and my nieces. It’s for my amazing, wonderful, kick-ass friends who have kept me strong in dark places, made me laugh, made me think, and made me love. It’s for my mum, who burned her bra and marched for CND, and taught me to never, ever, ever give up on the idea that I have as much right to a better future as any man.

It’s for you.

I love you.

The women mentioned in this post - they're not perfect, none of them. Neither am I. But I don't want a perfect world - I want a just world. And I do believe that one day, we will have one.