Your favorite feminist comedian makes a racist joke.

You buy a witty (feminist, of course) t-shirt from a cool store but you later find out that it’s not free trade – the clothes are produced in sweatshops.

You really like a new song but you realize that the lyrics contain misogynistic messages, so you only listen to it in private and feel slightly guilty. You wonder if you should feel more guilty.

The small indie local business runs out of radical feminist patches before you can buy one. After that, your vintage denim jacket always seems like it’s missing something.

You’re in the middle of a rational, respectful debate with a meninist, but you have to leave before you get to make your next point.

You get the urge to put on makeup before going out. You realize, with a sinking feeling, that it’s because you want a certain guy to think you’re hot. Suddenly, the Feminist Police show up and revoke your feminism license.

DISCLAIMER: This is satire and definitely not representative of how all feminists think. It also doesn’t reflect the values and purpose of feminism. This is just something I wrote to try and be a little funny. It’s only my opinion, and I apologize if it offends anyone. Thanks for reading!

Zoe B.