Musings Of An Elite College Feminist


The following is a fictional narrative of the inner mind of a wealthy Ivy League “Feminist” Female spending her summer as an Investment Banking Analyst at a prestigious NYC firm.

Dearest self,

I, the inner, suppressed depths of your externally feminist facade, write this to you as a plea for sanity.

There you sit at your elite summer job, slaving away over the mountainous pile of work your boss just slammed onto desk. Oh my, you poor little thing! It’s 2am. Please go home already.

What is that, you say? You’re working like a slave to “get ahead?” You want to ensure a full-time job offer and a six-digit salary? Oh sweet child, for the second time: go home. We both know you’re only kidding yourself. You’re not a male. You’re wasting your time.

Oh, calm down! Don’t act like I’m some sort of demon for suggesting that your gender puts you at a disadvantage. Please, get over yourself. It’s time to be realistic. Do you really think you’re going to make it in this competitive, male-dominated career?

Sure, maybe you’re more intelligent and hard-working than your male co-workers. But it’s time to admit that your qualifications are irrelevant. You’re trying to make it in a male-dominated industry that mocks females and makes them feel miserable and under-appreciated. You’re not going to last; no one does. And it’s not your fault, sweet pea! No one enjoys feeling this way. Please, for your own sake, stop pretending you’re the exception.

What’s the alternative to this high-power, abusive career-path, you ask? Simple, find a profession you enjoy! Communications, fashion maybe? Those industries are far more accepting of women. You’ll have a better chance at thriving.

Good, I’m glad we’ve settled on a career-path that’ll result in a happier you. You’ll wake up looking forward to work, and your career won’t be ruined if you have a child! (No promises on that, though.)

Ugh, I knew you’d ask about the salaries awarded in these more “enjoyable” professions. Sure, they’ll never amount to what you’d make at your misery-job, but happiness is what truly matters, right?

Oh, who the fuck are we kidding; your income doesn’t matter.

You’re from a wealthy, privileged background, so you’ll probably end up marrying your male socioeconomic counterpart. And since he’s male, he’ll be able to have that successful career you once dreamed of.

Lucky you, my dear self! You’ll now be forever supported by your man’s glorious salary. You’ll forget that you ever wished to work.

Oh, what’s that, you say? You’re 43 with five children and a cheating rich husband and you feel trapped? You’re bored and wish you lived a more stimulating life? You’re wondering where your feminist dreams went?

HA. You’re a stupid little girl. Don’t you know?  Those feminist dreams are a myth for girls like you. Build a bridge and get over it. You’re a woman of privilege and class, can’t you at least be a LITTLE more appreciative?

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image – vagueonthehow