Photo-credit goes to my lovely brother, who snapped me messing around in the woods
Being a woman comes with a world of expectations. There are things that we do, day in, day out, not because we enjoy them or even because they are necessary, but because they are expected, and much as we may deny it, we are scared of the reactions it would cause if we were to stop. It has always bothered me when women (both self-proclaimed feminists and those who are weary of the term) announce that they ‘enjoy being a woman’, when what they are really trying to say is that they enjoy using make-up, or going shopping, or waxing their genitals. As if those things are the marks of a woman, and inherently feminine, rather than cultural. There is obviously nothing wrong with enjoying any of that, and no need for anyone to defend themselves for doing so – but they are choices we make as consumers, not the signs of femininity.