The word that divided me

I just finished watching Maid on Netflix, and it broke something open inside me. It brought me back to a word that has always felt like a curse: feminist.

For a long time, being called a feminist was one of the worst accusations someone could throw at me. It felt like a punch, a label designed to cut me off from the men I love and the world I want to be a part of. The word felt so heavy and unfair because all I've ever wanted is good for everyone for men, for women, for humanity. To be called a "feminist" felt like being told I only cared about one half of the world, that I was selfishly prioritizing women's desires over men's suffering. It created a chasm between me and the men in my life, and that hurt.

Watching the raw and honest struggles of Alex in Maid was like looking into a mirror. It made me realize why that word has always felt so toxic to me. It's not the word itself; it's the baggage the world has piled on top of it. It's the unspoken rule that for a woman to be taken seriously, she has to speak for everyone, all at once. If I talk about a woman's pain, I can already feel the silent judgment: "But men suffer too! Why aren't you talking about their problems?"

And it's true. Men suffer deeply. I've witnessed it in the men I love. I've seen them be manipulated, conned, and forced into impossible choices. The world is cruel to them, too. But the expectation that my story must also be their story that my pain is only valid if I also mention theirs is what silences me. It feels like a trap. If I say a woman was abused, the response so often becomes, "But men get abused too, and no one ever talks about it."

Ultimately, I've realized this isn't a debate. This is my story, and I am allowed to tell it. Am I a feminist? Yes. Does that mean I hate men? Absolutely not. Does that mean I think men don't suffer? Of course not. It just means I refuse to let the world silence me. I refuse to be told that my experiences are only valid if I simultaneously speak for everyone else. My empathy is not a zero-sum game. I can listen to a man's suffering and hold space for him without being told that my own pain is a betrayal. This isn't about choosing a side. It's about having the courage to speak your truth and allowing others to do the same.