(I was thinking of editing the above comment but instead I'll add a comment to my own comment.)
Like the other commenter, Josh Slocum, my original quibble with feminism originated not from a divorce or marital breakdown/alimony/custody disagreement, but having a mother who espoused feminism and also seemed to be wildly unhinged, attacking…
(I was thinking of editing the above comment but instead I'll add a comment to my own comment.)
Like the other commenter, Josh Slocum, my original quibble with feminism originated not from a divorce or marital breakdown/alimony/custody disagreement, but having a mother who espoused feminism and also seemed to be wildly unhinged, attacking us with knives, randomly screaming her head off during mealtimes, or breaking down in tears and refusing to repair broken windscreen wipers on the car, driving home in the dark and pouring rain with no wipers, because the garage surroundings reminded her of the 1950s.
I was accused of various forms of sexism by my mother well before I had any clear idea of the differences between men and women, as well as being accused of various incestuous lusts by my equally-demented father before I had any noticeable sexual feelings. To make matters even worse, my mother decided that she hadn't yet behaved in truly-insane-enough fashion, and decided to start disgusting sexual harassment towards me during my teenage years. So I grew up associating feminism as well as sexuality with my parents' mental illnesses. As a young adult I tried to see what feminists actually believed and whether there was something to the movement other than the insane rantings of my mother, Phoebe. But there never has seemed to be anything other than just endless ill-considered grievance mongering. I don't see any consistent goals of this movement.
(I was thinking of editing the above comment but instead I'll add a comment to my own comment.)
Like the other commenter, Josh Slocum, my original quibble with feminism originated not from a divorce or marital breakdown/alimony/custody disagreement, but having a mother who espoused feminism and also seemed to be wildly unhinged, attacking us with knives, randomly screaming her head off during mealtimes, or breaking down in tears and refusing to repair broken windscreen wipers on the car, driving home in the dark and pouring rain with no wipers, because the garage surroundings reminded her of the 1950s.
I was accused of various forms of sexism by my mother well before I had any clear idea of the differences between men and women, as well as being accused of various incestuous lusts by my equally-demented father before I had any noticeable sexual feelings. To make matters even worse, my mother decided that she hadn't yet behaved in truly-insane-enough fashion, and decided to start disgusting sexual harassment towards me during my teenage years. So I grew up associating feminism as well as sexuality with my parents' mental illnesses. As a young adult I tried to see what feminists actually believed and whether there was something to the movement other than the insane rantings of my mother, Phoebe. But there never has seemed to be anything other than just endless ill-considered grievance mongering. I don't see any consistent goals of this movement.