Small Strokes Big Oaks

This is a guest post in a series on feminism and relationships.  If you’d like to submit a guest post for this series, see the guidelines here and submit your post to samsanator(at)gmail(dot)com.

Dena Robinson is a feminist activist woman of colour and student at Colgate University by day. By night she blogs for many blogs including Feministing Campus, and the Feminist Majority Foundation’s Choices Campus Blog. In addition, she tweets about social justice activism, queer rights, feminism and politics on Twitter at @DenaRobinson. One day, Dena hopes to become an attorney working for women’s, children’s, and queer people’s rights or a pro-choice, feminist elected official (read: politician).

How important is feminism to relationships?

It is a question I often ask myself when entering into new relationships, when talking to friends, and when talking to family. To many feminism is an important thing in relationships; to me it’s much the same. Feminism is so much a part of me that I find it hard to disconnect the “personal from the political” (very cliché, I know). It is so much a part of me that I evaluate most of my relationships using a feminist lens.

I identify as bisexual. Coming to that revelation about my identity and how it intersects with my race and religious beliefs was an easier process because of my feminist ideology. My feminism taught me that my identity as a person was more complex than who I was attracted and that my identity was shaped by all of these other factors. My feminism also increases my comfortability level with same-sex partners as well as opposite-sex partners. When partnered with a woman, my feminism has allowed me to become more and more increasingly open with those partners. It has taught me that while being with women is different, I should treat it no differently than with a man. My feminism has flowered because of that and helped to shape more the qualities I want in a male partner. My feminism in same-sex relationships has manifested itself in the way I communicate with those partners, what I ask of those partners, and the way our relationships work. I think that in a lot of same-sex relationships, while gender roles are not the same as in opposite-sex relationships, they do exist. I’m not very fond of gender roles and I think that exudes itself in my relationships. Also, in same-sex relationships, when not with an outrightly feminist partner, I always find myself talking to them about feminism or discussing my dissatisfaction with sexism, misogyny, what have you.

Now, this may seem cliché, but feminism really empowered me to lay claims to my identity. Before I came to feminism I saw labels as things for canned goods, not people. But once I came to my feminist identity I felt extremely comfortable with taking on an identity for my sexuality (though at times I still have issues with the taking on of labels). Therefore, in relationships my feminism has allowed me to carve out a niche for myself and be confident in the things I want from a partner. Many partners have been scared because of my feminism (because women are supposed to be docile and quiet), but since being with me have desired feminist traits in their future partners. In relationships I am easily able to find controlling, jealous, or abusive traits in partners because of my experiences and my feminism. In same-sex relationships I am able to stand tall and confident in expressing my love towards my partner. What is weird, though, is that for me, bisexuality has almost been an extension of my feminism. I go into male-partnered relationships expecting the same benefits I had from same-sex relationships: mainly the communication, the expressing of emotions, the friendship, etc. I mean, after all, feminists know what they want and get it and in my relationships I do the same.