Along with reading, languages, and everything else, another passion of mine is feminism. It formed the basis of my dissertation, which explores women’s treatment by avant-garde French philosophy, though it extends far beyond my academic interests: it influences my relationships and the way I move through the world. Because of this, I wanted to write a piece about why I remain a feminist in 2026.
What feminism actually is
I’ve had countless conversations where it’s been assumed that feminists are just man-hating lesbians, which is far from true. I guess this assumption comes from our patriarchal society believing that any push for equality is threatening. On the contrary, many feminists maintain that the patriarchy negatively affects men too, such as through its ignorance of male mental health, which we want to dismantle. In fact, Britannica says that feminism is “the belief in social, economic, and political equality (not superiority) of the sexes”.
How my upbringing played a part
As the only daughter of a Turkish dad, I often witnessed the difference in his treatment of me versus my brother. He’s always been very protective of me but never my brother. Even as a child, I understood that it was because I’m a girl. I see it from a cultural point of view, though he no longer lives in a country with such gender disparity…
Secondary school reinforced this belief in ways I couldn’t articulate at the time. Nobody was ever romantically interested in me, which made me sad until I realised that A. the likelihood of marrying your childhood sweetheart is very slim, and B. the majority of boys in my year were horrible. The latter point became clear when I’d overhear boys bragging about who they’d ‘pulled’ at parties and who the ‘fittest girl in the year’ was. Even as an inexperienced adolescent, I found these conversations disgusting.
Going to college sharpened my awareness. This may sound contradictory if you’ve read my Valentine’s Day post, but I was known as a bit of a ‘man-hater’. I was aware of the cognitive dissonance — I hated men while fantasising that they’d like me — but I’ve since learnt that the patriarchy enforces these dissonances. For example, everyone knows that women can live perfectly fulfilled lives without a partner, yet singles are often on the hunt for one. This arises from the constant stigmatisation of singlehood, where we’re led to believe that unmarried women become crazy cat ladies.
University was the first time I experienced feminism as community instead of mere theory. I was intrigued by Lancaster’s Feminist Society when I first started. However, I was also anxious about going to my first session as I feared they’d think I was a ‘fake feminist’ for wearing makeup. When I arrived, I saw that everyone was extremely welcoming and nobody was judged for such superficial things. I understand now that, had my fear been true, it would have shown that they aren’t supportive feminists anyway.
The bigger picture
Makeup can be a bit of a double-edged sword in feminist debates due to the patriarchal expectation that women need to wear it or else they’re ‘not making an effort’. This is upheld by society’s objectification of women, where we’re treated as things to be admired instead of complex individuals. Building on this, is the normalisation of weight-loss drugs and cosmetic surgery, both of which carry serious health risks that are often downplayed. This feeds us the idea that who we are is irrelevant if we don’t look the part.
When I first understood that fact, it made me feel guilty for wearing makeup. I thought I was a ‘bad feminist’ for wearing something designed to force women into rigid beauty standards. I recently read a book called The Beauty Myth (which I’d highly recommend), where the author discusses that wanting to look pretty isn’t wrong, but the problem lies in our lack of choice. I’ve concluded that my relationship with makeup is healthy as I don’t feel incapable of leaving the house without it. I still approach it with self-awareness, though, questioning whether I’m wearing it to hide ‘flaws’ or because I enjoy it.
The book also discusses the political weaponisation of these beauty standards that ensure the constant dissatisfaction of women. For example, the extremely skinny women we see in the media are deliberately placed to send us messages that “this is how a woman should look”, making us feel insecure about our own appearance. Ultimately, this leads to women who are so preoccupied with ‘improving themselves’ that they don’t even notice the systemic issue and speak out against it. This also benefits the economy as women will spend money on trying to ‘fix’ their problems. If women understood that they don’t need to waste money on chasing these mythical beauty standards, the cosmetics industry, to name just one, would collapse. This means that, in brief, it is not in capitalism’s interest to allow us satisfaction with our appearance.
I get so angry when I hear people say that “feminism has already been achieved”. It’s an ignorant point of view that disregards the non-Western world, where some girls are denied education and some women still can’t vote. Even at our own front door, we see that, although we’re ‘equal’ on the surface, there are countless factors that make our life more difficult. Feminism, in my opinion, is about freedom: the freedom to exist as a woman without being reduced to our appearance and desirability. The fact that so many women are still unable to do this, is exactly why I remain a feminist.
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