Pull up a chair, friends, this might be a long one.
A few weeks ago, I responded to a troll-ish comment on one of my Instagram posts, which resulted in an exchange that, while not in itself particularly interesting, did spark the inspiration for this post. Quoted in its entirety, the original comment was “too much botox”. I will admit that my assumptions about its author’s intentions were based primarily on the context (I was talking about my hair in the post in question), the individual’s anonymous profile, and their previous commenting history on my account. I normally don’t respond to comments of this kind, but I was feeling salty that morning and replied in that spirit. I was somewhat surprised when, the next day, the anonymous commenter responded, though the tenor of their response was predictable. [You can see our entire exchange on my post from March 1, 2019 if you wish.] What I think I was supposed to take from it was that this person was a better feminist (and possibly a better parent) than me. Bless her/his/their heart.
Let me say this straight up: Botox is not a feminist choice. Botox is not an unfeminist choice. Feminism is not a value system.
Got your attention? Good. Let’s proceed.
I have read that trolls tend to be good at targeting people’s weak spots; if so, my Instagram commenter is not a very good troll. I don’t care what people think about the way I dress or look (which is not to say that rude comments are not hurtful). I am not invested in the “wokeness” Olympics. If there is one thing I am learning as I get older, it’s that I still have so much to learn – about everything, and especially about and from BIPOC, LGBTQ and other minorities and marginalized groups. And I consider myself a feminist, but always, in my mind, with an asterisk beside it.
Some days, I’m not even sure I know what feminism means. I was recently reading about TERFs (Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists) and I pretty much threw up my hands because … honestly? If the “feminist” label can be applied to something like this, it becomes meaningless. I feel like every discussion of feminism now has to come with a preamble that clearly spells out what is intended to be meant by the term, so that everyone participating in the discussion can be on the same page at least in understanding the context. So here is my asterisk.
That being said, feminism to me is not concerned with a person’s choices – only their agency. That’s what I mean when I say that it’s not a value system. Religion is a value system. It says that Choice A is morally superior to Choice B for X Reasons. The only way I can see feminism approaching that kind of territory is when it comes to choices that may impact other people’s agency (their ability to make unconstrained choices for themselves). So, for example, I can agree that denying another person access to basic human rights (bodily autonomy and safety, food, shelter, medical care, education, etc.) is an unfeminist act. The farther the discussion moves away from those kinds of choices or acts, the less I am willing to concede that we are still talking about feminism.
I also think there is a dangerous fallacy that feminism means blindly supporting other people’s choices. I don’t believe it does. Let me repeat it again: feminism is not a system concerned with values. I support others’ right to make their own choices, free from constraints related to things like gender, race, sexual orientation, etc. Feminism doesn’t mean that I have to support or, in other words, place equal value or worth in every choice another woman makes, simply because we are both women. I can decide, for myself, the value system by which to live my life. What I can’t do, as a feminist, is impose my value system on another person. I might think someone is dead wrong in a choice they make, but as long as they’re not hurting someone else or denying another person their rights, then it’s not incumbent on me (as a feminist) to do anything about it.
Do people get to have opinions (or value judgments) about my choices? Of course. I have lots of opinions too. Are they entitled to tell me their opinions? Entitled is the wrong word here, though it gets thrown about a lot, but they are certain free to tell me their opinion. I am equally free when it comes to the way I choose to respond. But nothing about that discussion has to do with feminism. Perhaps the only feminist thing about it might be the fact (assumption?) that it involves two people who each feel empowered to make choices for themselves.
So, to wrap up on my original thesis, Botox is neither a feminist nor unfeminist choice. My choice to get Botox does not prevent you from choosing to not get Botox, nor does it invalidate or undermine that choice. You might say, “but, Adina, your choice is supporting a patriarchal expectation for women to look a certain way.” And to that I would say, “and how is that different than being told that I must look some other way instead?” My feminism means ensuring that people’s choices about how they look does not constrain their ability and opportunity to make other choices in their life. [An obvious exception is personal attraction. I’m not interested in dictating what other people find attractive. But, like, I don’t care if my doctor likes to dress like a goth, or has cornrows, or gets Botox. It’s entirely irrelevant to our socio-economic relationship, and I would hate to know that someone choose not to pursue a medical career because they didn’t feel their personal appearance would allow them to do that.]
Well, that was a whole lot more writing than I meant to do, so let’s leave it here for now. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk 🙂