I read a blog post last week titled, "If I Had a Dollar (Why I Am a Feminist)." It has 373 comments so far. 372 of the comments are about how powerful and touching it was.
Mine was the other one.
Not that I think it wasn't powerful or touching; I'm just not a feminist. Here's why:
- Because my kind, gracious daddy always honored my mom, and bought her pretty jewelry, and fixed whatever broke; and he always stayed up late to make sure my sister and I got in all right, and helped us with our math, and proudly took pictures of us on the field, stage, and court.
- Because my hard-working, strong mother loved being home with us, cooking and cleaning, and never made her role seem anything but a delightful privilege; and because my dad was never demeaning, rude, or condescending about the fact that he brought home the bacon and she fried it up—just the way he liked it.
- Because my husband is a lot like my dad; when I smash the car, he smiles and sighs, and gets out his checkbook; and every night, he makes the rounds to our three kids' bedrooms and reads them stories and prays with them as he has from the time they were little.
- Because when our kids were little, my husband was happy that I wanted to stay home with them and make them peanut butter toast for breakfast, and rock them when they were sick, and read them stories, and talk to them all day long . . . and now I look back on those days and wish I could do them again.
- Because feminists often seem more angry, less happy.
- Because there seems to be less freedom than ever to stay home and embrace motherhood.
- Because, when Jesus wanted to show his disciples what true greatness was (after they had been arguing about who was the greatest among them), He leaned down and picked up a baby—which shows me that when I pick up a baby, I must be doing something truly great, too!
- Because although the glass ceiling has been shattered, there's glass that gets stuck between my toes whenever I tip-toe up there to look around and envision adding that life to this one down here—where there's a toilet paper crisis, and the dog is throwing up, and somebody needs to be at soccer practice in seven minutes.
- Because I don't think new bondage takes care of old bondage.
- Because I don't think that evil, diminished version of a man, who lurks in your past, should be allowed to pin you down and keep you from finding the godly, humble, serving, good man in your future.
- Because I know I'd never be able to give my children the same mothering that I do, without their dad beside me every step of the way, supporting, caring, providing, and making us all laugh.
- Because of the harsh reality that women have been undervalued, disrespected, and exploited; and I long for women to be more validated, not less—especially for all that they contribute to the relationships in the home.
- Because I don't think freedom is found in abdicating the differences God breathed into the DNA of men and women—her being more relational and nurturing and better able to articulate feelings and make connections (which may not earn her lots of money, but does earn her lots of friends).
- Because I don't think our world appreciates the difference a strong woman can make when she pours her life out and gives it up for a respectful husband, and children who will carry her strength on to the next generation.
- Because I feel completely free and happy and content and dignified as a non-feminist, and I hope the same for my daughter, my loved ones, and my friends.
- Because if I had a million dollars, which I had earned on my own, and which kept me from the husband and babies who have changed me forever, I think I would be the most miserable person on earth.
- Because I'd empty every one of those million dollars out of my account if that's what it took to be exactly where I am now—spending my life on the family God has blessed me with.