Some of us need to gather in a circle, hold hands, and admit it: we’ve misunderstood the assignment.
Feminism was not meant to be a full-time man-hating side hustle. It’s not “revenge for that one guy who ghosted you after taking you to Rotana”.
It’s not a private club for soft life queens who’ve decided men are expired. Sis… that’s just vibes.
Somewhere along the way, we swapped empowerment for petty quotes on IG stories:
“Men are the problem.”
“Who needs men? I have sushi.”
“I’m not arguing with anyone who breathes testosterone.”
Please. That’s not feminism. That’s a TikTok tantrum.
Feminism…the real one… is about fighting for equal rights, equal pay, safety, dignity, and freedom of choice.
Not daily motivational speeches on why men belong in the bin.
It’s about being able to walk home at night without clutching your keys like a ninja star.
It’s not about telling your friend to dump her man because he asked for chapati with tea.
And don’t get me wrong, some men have tried it. Oh, they’ve tried it. The cheating, the gaslighting, the audacity.
We’ve earned the right to roll our eyes at least five times a day.
But feminism isn’t your personal revenge campaign. It’s not “The Ex-Files”. It’s bigger than that.
Because believe it or not, feminism doesn’t cancel love.
It doesn’t mean you’re weak if you still want partnership, a family or someone to kill the cockroach when you’re in the shower.
Feminism says you get to choose whether you want to lead a boardroom, raise babies, date a man, date no one, or date a cat.
And to be honest, some of us just needed therapy, not feminism merch.
Let’s not turn the movement into a mockery.
Let’s not confuse bitterness for boundaries. And let’s not use feminism as a filter to post angry rants when what we really need is sleep, snacks, and emotional support from our group chat.
The movement deserves more than mood swings and memes. It deserves depth. Direction. Dignity.
So next time you’re about to post “men are trash”, pause and ask:
“Is this healing… or just a caption?”
