This is the raw output of a GenX feminist who is too jaded to be surprised but too angry to be silent.

I’m a GenX feminist. I’m pro-choice, pro-LGBTQ+, pro-intersectionality, and anti-gun.

I was born in 1973. Roe v Wade was nine months old when I arrived. Nixon was still president but his days were numbered. Even as a kid I knew the chances of nuclear fallout trickling down was more likely than money trickling down through Reaganomics. I voted for Bill Clinton twice. I’d vote for his policies again but he and his rapey self can kick rocks.

I had an email account before I had internet access in my dorm room and I used newsgroups and chat rooms before they all turned into porn exchanges with a side of stalking and harassment. I’ve IMd, DMd, PMd, and hit reply all when I should have kept it private.

I’ve worn jelly shoes and Doc Martens. My closet held flannels and push-up bras. I never had The Rachel cut but I wore brown lipstick like a damn boss. I’m inked. I’m pierced. You only think you remember my natural hair color.

I don’t actually remember 8-tracks but I sure as hell re-spooled cassette tapes with a pencil. I’ve bought the soundtrack to Rent three times: on tape, on CD, and as an MP3. I’ll buy it again when the technology demands it. That show reminds me of how afraid we all were of AIDS and capitalism. We weren’t wrong to fear them.

It’s not ok that Cobain died but it is ok the Courtney Love is still kickin’. It’s ok that the 80s and 90s left scars. It’s ok to be strong enough to survive even if the second half of survival isn’t pretty. Pretty was always overrated. So was nice.

I remember every moment of 9/11. I remember the loss of two friends in Afghanistan.

I voted for Hillary Clinton. I would vote for her policies again but she can take her rapey donor base and kick rocks. I forgave her for standing by Bill. I won’t forgive her for letting Harvey Weinstein stand by her.

Now, I’m looking toward fifty and some days I feel like I might be too tired to be woke. But the world isn’t what I wanted for my kids so here I am. Old, and mad, and smarter than most of the men on the internet who want to tell me why I’m wrong.

I’m a GenX feminist and I’m not done yet.

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