I’m always fascinated by the reasons people give for why they aren’t feminists:
“I love men.”
“I don’t like labels.”
“I consider myself more of a humanist.”
“I love being pretty and getting dressed up and wearing makeup.”
“I don’t have the militant drive or the chip on my shoulder that comes with that.”
“I don’t want to work after I have kids.”
In the last week, I’ve found myself in the company of several women who proudly proclaimed that they aren’t feminists — only to find that their definitions of “feminist,” like those of the respondents above, don’t match the actual definition.