Hello, my name is Bethany Snorp, and this is my proposal for a new way of living and thinking. I hope you like it very much.
The dawn of a new social era glints on the horizon of 2021. And with the coming of a new year, full of promise and hope, I feel confident sharing a personal philosophy I have been toying with for years.
Here it is: I think women should succeed, but only when they are me. That’s right. Women MUST be paid an equal wage, but only because I want to buy a pair of shoes I saw on a website that will make my bitch roommate Leslie jealous, and they’re expensive. I believe women have a right to choose, and that means I get to choose what songs everyone listens to when I am in the car. I believe that we need to instill a sense of respect for women and men on equal levels, and then I should be respected more than everyone else. It’s just that easy.
Every woman on earth is my competition, and every man is a potential romantic interest. This philosophy has made me one of the healthiest and most normal people ever, according to the research I have conducted privately in my leatherbound journals. Additionally, I care more about my success than any other woman’s. In fact, I’d rather no woman ever succeed if it meant that I could thrive in even an insignificant way. Rather than label it “fourth wave” feminism, which I find derivative, I have coined a new term: fe-me-nism. As in, me. At the center of it: me. Right where I love to be.
You may be wondering aloud, “Bethany,” my name is Bethany, you can call me Thany, “Thany, doesn’t this mean you are technically a bad person?” Absolutely, yes. In a technical and also real-life and practical sense, I’m essentially evil and bad. But it’s sexist of you to call me out because I will react poorly to it. The rules are very simple. Please follow them.
Rule number one of fem-me-nism is I am allowed to be so mad at every woman that is succeeding and isn’t me, and I will actively plot for their downfall. Coworkers, friends, Taylor Swift: these are all fair targets of my ire. And isn’t it actually extremely girlboss of me? Yes.
Rule number two is everyone should compliment my hair constantly and genuinely. The third and final rule is that if I look weird in a pair of jeans, like they give me camel toe, someone is legally required to tell me, but in a discreet way. Like passing a note to me, and then burning the note. And then everyone else has to wear pants that are very unflattering so I look hot by comparison.
If everyone lives by these simple rules, I believe that I will have a great time. Thank you, and God bless me and fem-me-nism. I’m late to my vaginal rejuvenation, goodbye.
