I’ve come to a pretty startling realization recently. I’ve realized that, when it comes to feminism, there seems to be some arbitrary list of requirements that a woman has to meet before she can be considered a “good” feminist. And the problem with that – in my eyes anyway, and certainly in my own experience – is that the most ardent champions of this list are other feminists. It’s a problem because those of us who don’t meet the requirements are not seen as being “worthy” of the feminist movement, and that is an attitude that can only lead to divisiveness within the movement. That’s not going to help anyone. How can we change the world if we’re too busy backstabbing each other?

By now I’m sure there are more than a few readers shaking their heads and thinking that I’ve lost my marbles. And who knows, maybe I’m the only woman who’s experienced this. But I have experienced enough of it, and from enough people, to think that the attitude is a relatively common one.

Let me give you an example. My best friend recently got married and chose to take her husband’s name. Upon hearing this, her sister-in-law remarked, “Leave it to her to set back the women’s movement by 50 years.”

Excuse me?

I ask you: What does taking your husband’s name have to do with the women’s movement? What does it have to do with my best friend apparently being a “feminist traitor”? (That quote is courtesy of her own sister.) Why does her own personal choice reflect on her position within the feminist movement?

I know, I know – there are those who would wax intellectual on the history behind this particular tradition. How taking your husband’s name signifies that you are labeling yourself as nothing more than your husband’s property. I’ve heard it all before. But what gets me, is that in this particular situation, the people who insist that taking your husband’s name is a betrayal to the feminist movement are forgetting something vital. When you get married, the two most common choices are keeping your own name, or taking your husband’s. If you take your husband’s name, you’re a bad feminist because you’re signifying that you’re the property of your husband. But…isn’t your maiden name actually your father’s name? And if you keep your maiden name, you’re not signifying that you’re the property of your new husband – but you’re still signifying that you’re *someone’s* property, aren’t you? It’s a classic case of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” – except that it isn’t, because keeping your “own” name is what you do if you’re a “good” feminist. The inherent patriarchy of keeping your own name is hardly ever brought up, however, because apparently that’s the right choice. And that, unfortunately, seems to be what feminism is becoming – making the “right” choice in order to keep your feminist card.

And that’s only the beginning. Oh, there is so much more.

A few years ago, I ran the Women’s Centre at my university. One of the major events of the year was the campus production of The Vagina Monologues. As hard as this is to believe, I had never seen the play, or even read the book. I felt it was my duty to familiarize myself with the various monologues, so I settled in to read the book.

It wasn’t long before I found something that raised my blood pressure, and reminded me of yet another “requirement” that I have encountered in my life as a feminist.

“You cannot love a vagina unless you love hair.”

Oh, readers, how did this annoy me? Let me count the ways. Actually, let’s not, because I doubt I could count that high. But let me give you a condensed version.

First of all (and this is something that annoys me about the play in general): for someone who is so concerned about the state of women’s vaginas everywhere, Eve Ensler seems confused about what the vagina actually is. Dear Eve: Women do not have hair on their vaginas (well, maybe some do, but that’s between them and their doctors.) Women do, however, have hair on their vulvas, and the decision some women make about what to do with said hair seems to be a contentious topic among some in the feminist community.

Look, I shave my pubic hair, okay? I don’t like my pubic hair, I never have, and I’m never going to. I prefer the heightened sensation I get with a bare pubic region, and so I shave it. It’s my vulva and it’s my decision, and frankly, I shouldn’t have to hear about how being shaved makes me look like a child, dammit. Because frankly? I am thirty years old, and if the fact that I also have breasts and hips doesn’t clue someone in to the fact that I am not, in fact, a prepubescent child, then I don’t think I’m the one with the problem.

Now mind you, I’ve never actually heard that from anyone who has actually seen my vulva, and therefore might actually have a say in what I do with my pubic hair. No, I’ve only heard it from perfect strangers who seem to think they have a right to dictate what I choose to do with my own damn genitals. People who, in other words, have absolutely no right to have any opinion whatsoever when it comes to my nether regions.

And yeah, I’ve heard all the rhetoric that the reason I choose to remove my pubic hair is because I’ve supposedly been conditioned by our patriarchal society to think that having pubic hair is unattractive and dirty. And I’m here to tell you that in my case, that’s bullshit. I do it because I damn well want to, and I resent anyone who tries to convince me that it’s really not a decision based on my own preferences. You know what? Stop telling me that not only am I too stupid to make my own decisions, I’m too stupid to even know why I’m making those decisions. Why is it so hard to accept that, yes, I know all about the patriarchy and the effect it’s had on women, and you know what? I still want to shave my pubic hair, and it’s no one’s damn business but mine.

That’s what really gets me about this whole issue, you know. It’s not only stupid, but it’s insulting to women to insist that every decision we make – from shaving our legs to changing our names if we choose to get married – is because deep down we all have this innate need to please the patriarchy. Dammit, stop telling me I’m too stupid to make a well-informed decision on my own. How is that supposed to further the feminist movement?

The answer is simple, really. It doesn’t.

This kind of attitude does absolutely nothing for feminism, because it has nothing to do with feminism. Why am I a bad feminist if I shave my legs? If I get married and choose to take my husband’s name, do I have to hand in my feminist card? Why are these inane issues so very important to some people, and why the hell should any of us care?

The answer to that question is simple too (at least in my opinion). We shouldn’t care. We really shouldn’t. Because none of it has any bearing on our position within the feminist community, on our worth as warriors in the feminist army. There is absolutely no reason why a woman who shaves her legs and chooses to take her husband’s name cannot make worthwhile, valuable contributions to the women’s movement. Why would those things have any bearing whatsoever on her beliefs, or her ability to do great things for women everywhere?

And so, to those women who would have me hand in my feminist card simply because of the choices I make about my own life, I say: This is my life, and the choices I make within it are my own. Your opinions mean nothing, and you have no right to tell me that I’m not a “real” feminist because you think I’m too stupid to make an informed decision on my own.

Quit being so judgmental, get down off your high horse, and let’s get on with the important stuff. Shall we?

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