Britni de la Cretaz

So after years of feeling incredibly conflicted about the topic of my leg hair because FUCK YOUR PATRIARCHAL BEAUTY STANDARDS, it came to be winter.

"Go ahead, call me a bitch. It’s one of the nicest things you could say about me."

It’s bad enough when I’m street harassed out by myself — I feel vulnerable and deciding how to respond can be hard. But it gets really complicated when I’m harassed and with my child.

In part, I didn't want kids because I knew that I couldn't even take care of myself, let alone someone else.

Other girls are awesome. I never had any close female friends. I always said girls were “vapid, “catty,” and “annoying.” In reality, I was threatened by other girls.

While this is not about my or White people’s feelings, this is about White people’s violence. As White people in this country, it’s on us to dismantle White supremacy. Both the problem and the solution lie with us. This involves talking to other White people in our communities, having hard and uncomfortable conversations, examining and confronting our own privilege.

And so, because I love my child, I am doing the thing I swore I’d never do: planning a princess party for my daughter. I am doing the thing that will make her happiest. I am helping her embrace her femininity by letting her be nothing other than who she wants to be.

What I learned about myself is that I am full of crap, through and through. I also learned that I absolutely hated that fraudulent person — it didn't feel good to be a hypocrite. It didn't feel good to manipulate the people around me. And it didn't feel good to know that no one knew me for who I really was, including myself.

I’ve been writing about stigmatized topics on the Internet for almost 10 years, so it’s never a surprise to me when I get pushback or face trolling or abuse for my opinions. I am a woman on the Internet, after all. Men love to tell me how stupid I am on a regular basis.