My radical feminist journey has led me to evolving into this intermediate stage of just a radical feminist to full on separatist. It’s rarely discussed the type of lifestyles that radical feminists and all rebels of the patriarchy, hags, lesbians, etc. live and the struggles they continue to face.
Radical feminism has completely transformed me. I find it incredibly difficult to even view the world in the same light as I used to. My struggles from before still try to surface though, and that’s something my separatism seems to prevent from happening. I believe this is due to the fact that I have no male friends, and limit my interaction with males on a refined basis. Since I go to a school where I am forced to interact with males in group settings, this is usually the time I engage with males. I know how to be entertaining and put on a fake smile. I also know how not to anger them, and to avoid possible conflicts.
Not having a lot of males in my life is very refreshing. I used to be a girl who had only male friends, to now zero, which is great! Male influence in my life is limited socially, but I do know that there are the hidden males around me that I need to watch out for. Like the media, academics, religion, etc. Otherwise, I don’t have to sit around and be with a boring piece of shit and talk about shit that only relates to him and do things that only seems to feed his empty desire, drinking, drugs, etc. But I still am struggling with cocooning into a full-time separatist in certain levels.
I am someone who looks in the mirror everyday. With patriarchy, men are constantly dictating what women’s bodies should look like, and they are constantly advertising that we should be as thin,as white,( in America that is, femininity mandates differ geographically) and as feminized as possible. A woman’s body is meant for male viewing. He wants to see something that doesn’t look human, to confirm his stupid beliefs that women are fuck objects. Feminization and beauty practices are about looking passive. It’s about becoming a sado-masochistic vessel and advertising that to men. It’s about meeting a projection basically. She paints her eyes, and starves herself because she’s supposed to like pain, and therefore she must want to be fucked. That’s why men push beauty practices on us, hence the name “beauty” which is actually irrelevant. Also men HATE the female body because they are terrified of us.
I still do pettily judge myself, and battle with urges to call myself ugly and fat. Just because I’ve felt that way since I was a child. When you’ve been programmed a certain way it’s hard to de-program. But otherwise because I know that I actually am a human being, that looking “pretty” is only for men and is bullshit myth that harms women, I gracefully don’t. I could sit on here and give a sob story, but that’s where my separatist state of mind kicks in. This divide from the mainstream patriarchal world with truth. The truth always prevails over easing into harmful myths with me, and hopefully that applies to all disappointment.
I’m pretty sure that there are other feminists dealing with the same struggles of their appearance, whatever it might be. My advice is this. Submitting to beauty myths is constraining your freedom and only benefiting men. It’s always better to grow. All women are beautiful and beauty is not measured on the surface. This is something all women know but we are too scared to admit that we think the hairy fat goddess is hot! If you’re really down, think of it this way. All your attempts to look “attractive” for men are self-defeating, for men will never care for women, will always hate them, even in their most feminized and refined forms. In fact, men will rape and kill women regardless of looks. No appearance will truly clear any woman from being raped, killed, and abused by men. Also men are dangerous? Who really wants their attention or approval anyway. We are strong WOMYN. And we are not dependent on them for survival.
Now, never hold contempt for women who conform to beauty practices, it’s purely male socialization’s fault, not her’s for whatever her reasons. And remember this woman is a victim of patriarchal female standards. We don’t need to blame other women for what they do to themselves. Women are womankind!
If you still hate the way you look, here’s a real mind changer. Beauty is diversity. Everyone is born with truly unique features, and if everyone was meant to look the same than that would be stupid. So why try to look like something we are not? Embrace you’re completely unique human body, because it’s your’s and nobody will ever have it. Men can’t value diversity, they need hierarchy and genocide because they detest themselves to the fullest. So why try to live the destructive male way, when you can adopt the empowering female way of diversity and self-love? It’s way more beautiful, meaningful, truthful, and real to accept, and love oneself, and not bow down to other’s standards.
Destructive Female Friends
Another thing about having a separatist state of mind, is not being able to detest or hate women.I truly can’t hate or dislike any woman. Yes I may find many woman annoying, destructive, and unwise, but I always hold my heart out for them because these characteristics are due to men’s abuse, control, and influence on them.
The problem dealing with destructive females when your radical feminism doesn’t seem to be reaching them, and you don’t have any other radical feminist friends. All of my friends are totally colonized, and patriarchal minded. They judge other women on appearances, put males before their friends and themselves, and are drowning in the poisoned stream of heterosexuality. All of their actions seem to end at males. This is discouraging, I try to engage them into my understand but they don’t seem to grasp it, and are actually very annoyed at me.
I’ve left friends behind, completely stopped talking to them. Sometimes it’s just not worth having my beliefs compromised. It’s frustrating and sometimes the things they say can really get into my head. My rule is, when your non-radical feminist friends become a threat to your sanity abandon them. That’s for me, but I know that other radical feminists probably just don’t talk to non-radical feminist women. Which is absolutely fine.
What sucks about having friends who aren’t feminist is that you see so much destructive behavior going on that makes you sick, and they are completely oblivious to it. For them it’s normal to judge other women’s outfits or appearance, for them it’s normal to gossip and talk about “cute” boys (ew). It’s apparently funny women women are being abused by men ( World Star Hiphop generation/ Vines generation) It’s disturbing. And sometimes it really gets to me. If it gets too out of control soon, then I will just stop talking with everybody. It’s way more dignifying to be the loner with no friends, than to be stuck with friends that aren’t really friends. Even though I try this and destructive friends always seem to chase after me when I distance myself.
I can now consider myself to be a non-heterosexual, and a possible lesbian. But the thing is I still do sometimes have visions of PIV and feelings when watching a movie where people are having sex. I know this is not my fault, it’s due to years of heterosexual conditioning, but it’s slowly wearing off.
Since I am a woman, I can control my bodily responses and even condition them away. When I saw erect penises I used to become aroused, but now when I see them I feel nothing but disgust and offense. I see the penis as nothing but an ugly deformity of skin that is inferior and dangerous. It’s a weapon that needs to stay away from the public eye. Hence, when I was aroused to the penis, I always felt shame and uneasiness. I felt like my arousal wasn’t natural, it wasn’t right. My body had become used to penises penetrating it, so my mind triggered sexual arousal whenever I saw them to prepare for it. This was a response to fear.A feeling of dread still came over me whenever I saw an erect member because I knew there was a good chance that it was going to try to invade me. I know this because I was never aroused by penises before, until after my first PIV experience.
When I see naked women ( not pornified women), I experience arousal, but it is accompanied by emotions of warmth, love,attraction and appreciation, not by fear, loathing and guilt as with men. The very idea of women is attractive, and dignifying.
Dating men is something my mind is so far out of ever being able to do unconsciously again. I am a conscious, breathing female, aware of men’s lies and evil. I may have my occasional PIV flashbacks but going back to that is thinkable, but incomputable with real hard earned logic and reason I have built up. My mind won’t let me.
Writing about this helps to heal though. Establishing the known truth is hard, when in the foreground the world is telling you the opposite. When in the real world you deal with the different responses from men, all of which just remind you of your subordinate status.
Lonesomeness get’s me about once a week. Constantly dreaming of a cuckold of radical feminist sisters, and reaching out with disappointment to find those dreams are holographs. I am okay with being a lone soldier, but sometimes I do wish I knew someone like me. It would make things easier, infuse hope, and motivation. And then maybe my mind wouldn’t drift into thoughts of crossing over to the other side. For it is so easy to abandon the truth and seep into a slow suicide by giving myself to the patriarchy.
While it seems the patriarchy and men are constantly chasing after me, trying to get me back into their traps, into serving them, sometimes we think of giving up.But I know there is no safety or satisfaction with just lying down. There is nothing to be gained, nothing to be learned, but humiliation and the loss of dignity, self,freedom and respect.Nothing to do but die.
It’s either fly or die. And I chose to fly. Fly above everyone else, no matter how solo the path.I find myself lately wondering off into other people’s lives and comparing them to my own. It is here where I first recognize that I may be alone. The contrast between my life and theirs is so vastly different. Parties, friends, connections, jobs, money, trips, etc. these things are way far out of importance to me. But what I realize now, is that I never ever felt it was wrong to be me, I never felt lonely, until someone told me I was. I never felt lonely until I began to think about the concept of loneliness. Women in patriarchy are lonely souls, devoid of honest connection, and forced into servitude to attempt to ease their loneliness. Loneliness stems from male-induced self hatred and a woman’s loneliness is only widened through pleasing men. Men are the root of loneliness, projecting their imperfections on to women, and making women feel they need them or they will be lonely. So when people jumpy to the conclusion that I am lonely, they are drawing from the patriarchal mythology of the lonely untouched woman who is the worst state a woman can be because she is without man, therefore without significance. A clear myth created to trick women into servitude.
Being alone doesn’t equate with loneliness, when being alone gives you strength and leads to productivity in your life.So as I drift as an outsider away from the guilds of civilization, I realize how lucky I am. I am someone who stopped to ponder the world, and gained the powers to see what it really was, instead of being consumed by it. I see patriarchy.I see men for what they really are and I can identify that. That’s a gift, and a hard earned one that is. In fact it takes a life’s journey to grow wiser. Something you will not find most people of this generation attainting to.
To end on an inspiring note, what struggles as a radical feminist do you still battle and need reconfirmation with? The possibility of female-to-female healing is endless.