I Cannot Call Myself a Feminist. I am a Black Woman.

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Regarding my position on feminism in the United States, I have long been on the fence. I was never quite sure how I felt about it. I knew that I was pro women’s issues: equal pay for equal work, autonomy in reproductive health, living in a harassment free environment, but something about the feminist movement always felt so wrong that I could never take that step to call myself a feminist.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I understood why.

I was reading an article hear on Medium by Delthea Simmons, entitled, “Black Womanhood and White Feminism,” and she stated my feeling about the subject so eloquently.

My Momma was pro woman. She said so often but she saw feminism as something white women did to make white women’s lives better.

The Aha moment for me was real.

It was tangible.

It was visceral.

I started to rattle off at the mouth about it to my boyfriend.

I am a black woman, and I’ve never felt that the issues that plague black women, have ever been included in feminism. So, obviously, I’ve never felt comfortable with idea of calling myself a feminist.

Listen, I get it.

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The Wicked Orchard by Sidra Owens
The Wicked Orchard by Sidra Owens

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