In Search of Sisterhood

My Experience in a Woke Feminist Community

In 2017, I was at a time in my life when I'd hit rock bottom. I felt very alone. I didn't have any close women relationships in my life and I yearned for sisterhood and a community where I could connect with other women.

I wanted to share what was on my heart and hear what was on the hearts of other women with similar beliefs and desires. So I joined an online women’s community.

My intention here isn't to slam the community or the woman leading it, so it’ll remain nameless. My intention is just to share my experience as a member.

I was so excited when I joined this community to finally have what was purported to be a “safe space” where women could connect, share, and be heard.

I remember being thrilled to begin my membership in this Sisterhood. And when I did, I still felt alone.

It may have been because I was the only Australian woman in the community and it was filled with women from the United States and Canada. Before I joined the community, I didn't realise that would even matter. Once inside, I realised it mattered immensely.

Rather than providing the community I desired, my membership provided fuel for me to write. I spent my time there deeply questioning reality and pouring my heart into a series of writing that came about because the groupthink and hypocrisy within the minds of most of the women inside this community were shocking to me.

I felt like a massive outsider looking inside at these women asking, “Is this a joke? This can't be real.”

I spent many late nights on the sofa with Brendan talking about what I was reading, seeing, and hearing inside. And at this stage, I hadn't even made any posts inside the community. I also wondered if I ever would.

Most of the women inside this community called themselves feminists. I’d never identified with that term myself. By the time I left this community, which I believe was about a year, I knew exactly what a neofeminist was, and wanted no piece of it whatsoever. 🙅‍♀️

The woman leading the community was very feminine when I first met her online a few years earlier. In her view, in the years in between, she’d evolved into a strong, fierce, empowered woman.

The woman I saw was a guarded, wounded, masculine woman hiding who she was. I found this so interesting. So jarring. Instead of finding sisterhood, I couldn’t help but spend day after day, night after night unpacking the disturbing programming.

Once I started to share my insights, beliefs and personal experience and open up—as I was quite supposed to inside of this community, as it was a safe place to share what was on my heart—I was attacked from many angles.

I was not permitted to share what was on my heart.

I wasn't allowed to question individual or societal beliefs.

I wasn't allowed an opinion.

Nothing could deviate from the programming.

As this newsletter and podcast unfold, part of my focus will be revealing the words I wrote when I dove down the feminism rabbit hole in 2017.

Most of it is based on neofeminism, “woke” programming, cultural Marxism, hypocrisy, privilege, all the “isms”, the division between genders, gender studies, and women's studies.

It seemed so left of field for me because at that time in Australia, cancel culture, toxic masculinity, misogyny, etc, etc, hadn't reached our shores yet. I glimpsed at it from afar and said, “Oh my God. What is happening over there in the United States?”

I couldn't even imagine how it would be taken on in Australia. But it sure was.

This community was where I first learned about the existence of things like “microaggressions”, “passing racism”, “intersectionality”, and all of the woke language and ideas we see proliferating in society today. The extremist programming intends to divide us and purports to promote “safe spaces” and prevent us from “being offended”.

Most of the women who felt like they were strong, independent, feminist women were also guarded, upset, angry, and unhappy with their lives. They projected that onto the other half of our population. And any woman who wasn’t on their “side” had “internalised misogyny”.

Any time a man looked at them, it was as though they felt they were being raped.

It was like the oppression Olympics. Who could be the most offended? Who could be the most oppressed?

I spent most of my time in this community in absolute disbelief that these women were not joking. They were deadly serious.

Nothing was their fault. It was all the fault of the “Patriarchy” (a word that still makes my mouth reek of bile when I hear it because of how much it was the scapegoat in this community).

Anytime I posted in response to a woman to have a healthy adult conversation, I was attacked. A pack of wolves came at me.

So, it wasn't a “safe” community. It wasn't a place that I wanted to stay, except to use it as fuel for personal growth and to dissect the programming that these women had been hoodwinked into absorbing.

Being part of that community was a really interesting time in my life where I wrote and reflected prolifically.

I wrote poetry and satire when I couldn’t make sense of the women in front of me. I studied and researched to understand the why. And, I earned an honorary Degree in Wokeism by diving into the history of feminism, Women’s Studies, and Gender Studies. 👩‍🎓 

I became an anti-feminist of sorts because I realised feminism was not the answer.

None of the angry women were happy. Their only answer was to project their righteous rage at half of the population without being able to see their role in it.

This was a very instructional time in my life where I learned what I didn't want to be and how deep the programming in the United States had been.

I knew I’d never want any part of feminism.

At the time, I couldn’t find anyone on my metaphorical page. It felt like I was alone with no allies (another word that makes me squirm). Thankfully today, women are speaking out about the damage of feminism, the damage to families, and the damage to our children.

And now I've brought my voice back to this very important topic by sharing some of the pieces that I wrote during that time in my life.

After that context, I’d love to share a poem with you. It’s called Eye-Fucked.

The inspiration for this poem was the women in the community regularly expressing how disgusting it was to have men look at them. (Yes, even while smiling.)

One day, there was a post in which a woman shared how a man the afternoon before had cat-called her. The rage-filled commentary contained groupthink about how disgusting that was, what an evil man he was to do that, and how oppressive it was to be a woman in a man’s world.

I added a little fuel to the fire with a different perspective and asked this woman what might happen if she looked at it from a space of gratitude that a man would consider her attractive enough to reach out to her in that way.

I do understand many women find whistling offensive and yes, it may not be the best and most inspiring way to be approached by a man. But no one was hurt in this interaction, so I wondered if she’d be open to a different perspective.

Needless to say, that went down like a lead balloon, I was victim blaming, yada, yada, yada. If you’ve had any experience in feminist circles, you may be able to imagine the fallout.

From that point on, I became the black sheep and rarely shared any of my perspectives inside that community. Every single time I did, I was attacked to the point where I eventually left.

That conversation and another about the audacity of men to look or even smile at women inspired me to write Eye-Fucked. It's a satirical piece about the reckless male gaze and the projection of what that meant for these women.

Every one of these women seemed frightened to exist in society. Everywhere they looked they saw a threat. A man might whistle to me, or stare at me. He might even say hello and smile at me. The way that these women took a smile or a stare from a man was staggering.

And so it resulted in me writing this poem. I hope you enjoy it. ✨ 

---

Eye-Fucked…

There is a new phenomenon,
it’s time to be scared,
men have taken it one step further
I can hardly believe they dared.

They now fuck us with their eyes,
They no longer need the warmth of our thighs.
All it takes is just one look
And the righteous anger begins to rise.

One day, long ago, I may have smiled
nodded, or sent a flirtaceous hi
But that was before men became so vile
Now I just vomit back: #boybye

He looked my way without a warrant.
How dare he be so damn disgusting?
Doesn’t he know he’s not allowed
To let his eyes start invisibly thrusting?

There is no knowledge of the fuck
going on, it’s complete in a second.
No evidence left behind,
No pleasure, just a woman beckoned.

A victim left behind, and
a perpetrator who doesn’t even know
how much damage he’s done
he didn’t even give me the chance to say no.

It’s always just a moment away.
This is the danger of the eye-fuck.
Every man just a moment away,
will today be the day he will come unstuck?

Will he pass me by, rape me with his eyes?
I’m not sure how I know what he’s thinking
But I do; I know how much he wants me
See that? He has eyes, he was blinking.

It’s come to the point where
I can barely leave the house any more,
I’m assaulted with smiles, hellos
and eye-fucks galore.

I’m not sure what to do
Who to ask, where to go?
I’ve no proof I’ve been eye-fucked
but I feel it’s certainly so.

These fucks aren’t like others,
based in reality, truth.
No, these are projection,
a construct celebrated by youth.

These fucks aren’t like others,
where both parties feel.
No, these are one sided,
intangible, unreal.

Eye-fucks are sneaky,
cunning, and slick.
Blink and you’ll miss it,
You have to be quick.

Take this as a warning,
that you could be next.
A victim of eye-fucks
from which healing’s complex.

Don’t leave yourself open
to men that may dare
Try to brighten your day
with a smile and a care.

Stare him down
with your evil-est eyes
before he begins thrusting
without need for your thighs.

---

Thanks for reading!

I hope you enjoy reading my writing as much as I enjoy sharing it with you.

Aimee

x