Charlie J Forrest

Gather round children and listen to the voice of white male privilege as he desperately wrings his hands.

I think of myself as a feminist. And I will say as much to pretty much anyone. One of the great things about being a male feminist is that, when you talk to people about it, it automatically cuts through a huge amount of the bullshit that tends to get attached to the word. Nobody assumes I’m a misandrist, a militant socialist, sexually repressed or about to start telling people to “check their privilege”. No, when I tell people I’m a feminist they assume that I mean what it’s always meant, that I think all people should be treated the same regardless of sex or gender.

That’s right, even in feminism there’s a benefit to having a willy.

So being a good little feminist man I assumed that there’s no problem in assuming a female pen name, because men and women are equal, right? So there’s no problem there then. It’s not like I could be part of the problem is there?

Right?

Wrong!

You see my thought process relied on living in a utopia that doesn’t exist yet. So by adopting a female pen name I was, inevitably, taking on a huge swathe of societal assumptions that come with that.

It’s a bit like a white person who has a circle of largely black friends and uses the ‘n’ word with them. Because it’s just a word right? And they use it right? And you’re just, like, so modern and down with things you don’t even see people for their skin colour right?

I’m getting painfully close to espousing on topics I really don’t have any right to, but that’s kind of my point. One of the most insidious things about people in a privileged position is that it can be hard to realise it.

So my basic point is, ideologically, that shit don’t fly because we’re not living in a Utopia.

So far so academic. In the next post I’ll be talking about my personal experiences and why starting a female pen name was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in years and the consequences thereof.