I’m a feminist not a lesbian

Last week, I was invited to speak at Farnborough Ladies Night because one of the organisers had seen an article by the Fleet Courier that the book I co-wrote Immediate Response had been a given a medal by The Military Writers Society of America. I am not sure what the ladies were expecting but I think they were expecting something a little more twee than me. Perhaps, they were expecting a demure, domestic goddess, who would proudly regale tales of awe inspiring derring-do and keeping the homes fire burning. Instead, they were presented with my candid analysis of how I constantly battle with my husband to pull his weight more in the house.

My opening line was ‘I am a feminist not a lesbian.’The ladies, whose ages ranged from 50 years old to 80 years old, engaged immediately. I could see them lift their droopy lids and either bristle, or giggle. I had two camps – those that looked at me with complete disgust and those who chuckled in naughty delight. The challenge that I often face when I proudly out myself as a card carrying feminazi is defining what I mean. Especially because the common conception of feminism is that you are a bean eating, carpet munching, communist. (No offence intended to those of feminist lesbian communist vegetarian persuasion – it’s just that I am not that way inclined) Hence my opening gambit.

It’s tough because I haven’t created an academic thesis to qualify this bold and brash declaration. But what I truly seek is freedom. Freedom to do what I want when I want. Genuine independence. This I don’t have through my own misguided choices. Shall I tell you who I blame? To quote the popular film, Pretty Woman – “Cinder-fucking-rella”. I walked into the Cinderella honey trap and stupidly fell in love, got married and had children. Doh!! Bahm, I sold my independence down the river.

I feel like recently I have had an epiphany. I want my freedom back. I want my independence. I want to do what I want when I want. Mission on. The reason why it is a mission because obviously there are people in my life and they are part of what I want. I don’t mean that I want to run away and abandon my choices that is not what want. It’s about finding the right balance between my own needs and those to whom I am responsible.

I think I gave up my freedom too easily. It was easier to take on the burden of responsibility and do-it-myself. In fact, I closed my talk to the Farnborough ladies with some observations on my 8 year old son, The Grenade. I said that I was just going to have to apologise to all his girlfriends because his will to do what he wants is often greater than mine to prevent him behaving in a burping, farting, slobbing in a gregariously male way. The note would read ‘I am sorry. I did my best. Please don’t hold it against me. Honestly, it’s not my fault.’

Clearly, in my younger years I blamed my mother-in-law for ruining Hagar and turning him into the flawed man that walks alongside the other flawed men in the species. However, now I am a mother to a son I realise that I have been very disloyal to his mother. It’s not her fault. I was blaming the wrong parent – it was his dad’s fault!! Mwah ha ha! I am only joking. It’s not their fault really.

So my mission is on. Wish me luck. Thank you Farnborough ladies for what was a very entertaining evening. It was great to share and learn that the trials and tribulations that I face that you too have a faced and that although there have been changes the majority of women are still slaves to domesticity.

I think I am back in the blogosphere – I have missed it so much. Blogging gives me a great sense of freedom. It’s my blog and I can write what I want to. I am back online. Toys R Us toy testing begins in earnest although my box of toys was delivered to the wrong address so what do you think my chances are of seeing that box of goodies again?

The Domestic Goddess Is A Feminist

I am on the outrage bus at today’s article in The Daily Mail and the Mumsnet nazis are chipping in too, nodding furiously, and telling us to grab your pinny girls, keep the home fires burning, and raise your children. Don’t work, don’t have a career. Husbandry (why is it called that again?), child rearing is a career, and this is where we really belong.

But, it’s black and white – have job, and destroy your children’s lives, or, be a housewife, and nurture, cherish them and you won’t ruin their lives. These are your only two options. But, I disagree, we could perhaps forge our own path, and take charge of our own destiny. We could create genuinely, flexible, working opportunities to enable us to retain some independence over our lives.

It has taken me a long time to find this path, but I have found a genuinely flexible working environment, which enables me to be there for my children and earn money. To be honest, I haven’t even finished building my flexible empire. Cath Kidston who emulates the domestic idealism, to which we are all supposed to aspire, is clearly not a stay at home mum, but an entrepreneur, who is building a financially strong, business empire of her own!

Life doesn’t stop when you have children. Yes, you juggle more and yes, you have to be flexible to ensure there is a balance between meeting their needs and your own needs. It is a choice, but it doesn’t have to be one, or the other. I would like to think that we are a community where we can help women balance both, their intellectual needs, and their domestic responsibilities. I love my children, and I love being with them, but they do not nourish me intellectually. As an independent, free thinking, woman, I need more stimulation than the endless repetition of domesticity, and the incarceration that being bound by this duty entails.

This challenge of how do women balance their lives is not as a black and white, as career, or housewife. It is not one, or the other. The world is a dynamic, evolving place, and we are no longer bound by operating hours within the constraints of 9am – 5pm, Monday to Friday. We need to adjust how we think, and only then can we achieve genuine liberation. The domestic goddess is a feminist, she outsources her housework, and mundane chores, raises her children, and runs her own business, so that she can have genuine flexibility.

The blissfully happy, stay-at-home mums, lead a privileged existence because they can afford to stay-at-home, even with their alleged frugal living, (pah! It’s probably cheaper to holiday abroad then it is to holiday in delightful Kent and Scotland!) so their faithful, employed husbands are not drinking, or swinging their fists, or withholding their housekeeping. They happily give them direct access into the family coffers, and they are handing over their pension too, are they? What happens when he leaves her for a younger model, or they become another divorce statistic, and she is fighting for child support, where does that leave the idealism of the home maker. Women need to protect themselves, and their children, because if you find yourself alone without an income, and without a Prince Charming, then what?