I Wish I Had Been A Feminist In High School
High school isn't easy. Could it be improved with feminism?
Trigger Warning: Sexual Assault
We all have regrets. There are many things I wish I had done, or wish I didn’t do, or wish I would have learned the easy way. Most people have these kinds of regrets.
I regret not having been a feminist in high school.
It might not have solved all my problems growing up, but at least I’d have been aware that
I deserved to be respected and valued,
my voice mattered and
things didn’t have to be the way they were.
High school was difficult. I attended three different high schools, each with their own set of problems. The first was very unfriendly to neurodivergent brains, especially undiagnosed brains—like mine. The second school was pretty decent until I was sexually assaulted. I begged my parents to let me change schools—even though I never told them why I so desperately wanted to go somewhere else, anywhere else—and so, after enough begging, I attended the third school, where I tried to cope with PTSD by myself at a school that hardly cared about its students.
Had I been a feminist in high school, my experience may have been very different.
The first high school I attended was a private, girls-only college prep high school. You’d think I would have learned about feminism there, but because it was a Catholic school, I instead learned about the Catholic church’s views about sex and womanhood. There was plenty of slut-shaming that we learned in our “Religion” class, which was part religion class, part sex education. We watched dozens of Lifetime movies in Religion that made it clear that if you had sex, you would suffer dire consequences for your decision.
Feminism has taught me sex positivity, which is the belief that all consensual sexual activity is good and healthy, that people of all genders should have the freedom to enjoy sex without stigma or judgement, and that everyone should have access to the resources and education they need to make informed decisions about their sexual activity.
The second high school I attended was in a completely different state from the first, and I experienced minor culture shock from my new environment. My first day of school, in my very first class at school, I stared out the window in wonder at my first glimpse of falling snow. I was in a strange new world.
I wish I would have been introduced to feminism at this point. Feminism gave me courage and helped me to be more assertive. I could have used some courage my first few days of a new school. I made friends somewhat quickly, though, and I also got a crush on one of the guys in my class—and he asked me to the winter formal that was coming up. We started dating. Things were going well.
And then a year later, a classmate sexually assaulted me.
If I had been introduced to feminism, I would have truly believed that what happened to me wasn’t my fault; I wouldn’t have carried around this guilt and shame. I would have told my friends what happened sooner, and I would have discovered they were willing to stand by me when I could have actually done something about it.
Instead, I blamed myself. I thought I must have done something to deserve it. I didn’t tell anyone what happened because I was ashamed and I didn’t want to be seen as victims typically are seen.
Feminism gave me the tools to fight back against rape culture, slut shaming, and victim blaming. It taught me that my body was my own and that I had a right to say no. It taught me that no one has the right to touch me without consent, invade my personal space, or force me to do anything I don’t want to do.
Maybe I would have had the courage to speak up sooner. Maybe I would have been able to protect myself better.
At the very least, I would have known that I wasn’t alone. That there were others out there like me, who were fighting the same fight.
The third school seemed like an escape from the source of my nightmares. I hated having class with my assaulter. The teachers all loved him. My English teacher would fawn over him every time he opened that horrid mouth. I felt like there was nothing I could do but stew in my rage. Escaping back to my home state, miles away from ever having to hear his name said ever again, felt like a relief. I was still suffering, but at least the wounds were able to heal at home.
If I had been a feminist at this stage of my high school journey, I would have been more aware of the ways in which gender inequality manifests itself in my everyday life, and I would have been better equipped to challenge and resist it. I would have been able to push back against some of the sexist things we were taught, and I could have challenged my teachers to be more inclusive.
I would have been more likely to believe in myself and my abilities, and to take risks in pursuit of my dreams. And I certainly didn't know how to be an outspoken woman in a world that told me to be quiet until I had feminism.
Now, I know that my voice matters. I know that I have a right to be respected and valued. I know that I am not alone in this fight.
And I only wish I had figured that out sooner.