I’m a feminist.

Not because I hate men. Not because I burn bras or scream into the void.

I’m a feminist because I believe, at my core, that everyone deserves the same shot at life, dignity, safety, and opportunity, no matter their gender.

Let’s rewind.

I’m 53. I was raised in a military family, by a strong, smart mom and an equally strong older sister. I watched them navigate a world that, frankly, wasn’t built for them. A world that demanded silence when they spoke truth, poise when they were in pain, and politeness when they were being dismissed.

And even though my dad was from a different generation, he never once gave me the impression that women belonged anywhere but right beside men, as equals. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t model the old-school dominance that so many boys were raised with.

Still, let’s not pretend we weren’t soaked in the culture of it.

Those of us raised in the 70s, 80s, and 90s, we inherited a world where a man with opinions was a leader, and a woman with opinions was emotional.

Where a man with ambition was driven, and a woman with ambition was a bitch.

Where a woman in pain was told to suck it up, smile, and keep the house running.

I remember watching my sister curled on the bathroom floor, a pretzel of menstrual pain, trying to function through it all. I remember seeing my mom flushed, sweating, riding out the hurricane of perimenopause while the world demanded dinner on time. And I walked out the door every morning with no pain, no hormones hijacking my body, and no real understanding of what they had to fight through. But I saw it. And it stuck.

And that was just the biology.

Forget for a second the systemic barriers, the societal expectations, the career ceilings, the glass cliffs.

Forget the unsolicited comments, the unwelcome hands, the impossible beauty standards, and the legal systems designed to protect the status quo instead of the vulnerable.

Women, girls, non-binary folks, trans women, queer women, they all face a world designed with someone else in mind.

That someone is usually a man. And more specifically, a straight white man.

So here I am, a middle-aged Canadian dad of six, four of them girls, and I’m pissed.

Because how the hell are we still here?

How are we still in a world where:

• Women are paid less for the same job
• Women are blamed for being assaulted
• Women are told what to do with their bodies
• Women are judged for being too quiet, too loud, too sexual, not sexual enough, too maternal, too ambitious, too emotional, too cold, sometimes all in the same day

How are we still arguing about whether feminism is needed?

If you’re a man reading this, you might be feeling a little defensive.

That’s okay. It’s uncomfortable. But sit in it for a minute.

This isn’t about blame.

It’s about responsibility.

It’s about waking the fuck up to a system that’s rigged and deciding you’re not cool with that.

Because if you’re silent, you’re complicit.

If you joke along, you’re enabling.

If you vote for comfort instead of justice, you’re on the wrong side.

You don’t need a degree in gender studies to do better.

You need empathy.

You need ears.

And you need a spine.

So what do I believe?

• I believe feminism isn’t about making women stronger. It’s about dismantling the shit that tells them they’re not.
• I believe women are already strong. Systemically, culturally, biologically.
• I believe feminism includes intersectionality, because race, class, ability, gender identity, sexuality, and culture all affect how we move through this world.
• I believe women deserve to be safe, heard, paid fairly, respected, and left the fuck alone when they say no.
• I believe in raising sons who understand that consent isn’t optional, emotions are not weaknesses, and women are not prizes.
• I believe in raising daughters to know that their worth isn’t tied to their appearance, relationship status, or likability.

Do I sound angry?

Good.

I am.

I’m angry that in 2025 we still live in a world where being born female means being born into a lifetime of uphill battles.

I’m angry that some men still think this is about hating them.

I’m angry that we confuse strength with silence.

I’m angry that the same media that tells women to be empowered also sells them products to erase every line of age and every pound of weight.

And you know what else?

I’m angry at myself, too.

For the times I didn’t speak up.

For the times I got uncomfortable and stayed quiet.

For the jokes I laughed at when I should’ve said, “That’s not okay.”

But anger, when used well, is fuel.

So here’s what I’m doing with mine.

I’m using it to raise sons who are aware, empathetic, and humble.

I’m using it to uplift the women in my life.

I’m using it to challenge other men, especially the ones who say they “support women” but don’t really know what that means.

And I’m using it to say loudly, and without apology:

I am a feminist.

Not a perfect one.

But a relentless one.

And if you’re still not sure if you are?

Let me help.

If you believe…

• That women deserve the same pay for the same job
• That no one should fear for their safety because of their gender or gender expression
• That people of all identities deserve equal access to opportunity, safety, education, and healthcare
• That emotional intelligence, compassion, and collaboration are strengths, not weaknesses
• That strong women don’t threaten strong men, they raise the bar for everyone

…then congratulations, you’re a feminist too.

Even if the word feels uncomfortable.

Even if you weren’t raised that way.

Even if you’re still figuring it out.

We need you.

So what can you do?

You don’t have to flip tables. (But sometimes? Flip the damn table.)

You can start here:

1. Listen.

Really listen. Without interrupting. Without offering solutions. Without making it about you.

2. Learn.

Read books. Follow feminists online. Learn about intersectionality. Start with Judy Rebick (author and long-time Canadian activist), Julie S. Lalonde (consent educator and anti-stalking advocate), Nahanni Fontaine (Indigenous legislator and advocate for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women & Girls), and Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Nigerian author and feminist icon). These voices cut through the noise.

3. Speak up.

Call out sexism. Challenge jokes. Disrupt the “locker room talk.”

4. Raise the bar.

Hold yourself and other men to higher standards. Be the example, not the exception.

5. Vote with your values.

Support policies and leaders that protect and advance gender equity. Always.

6. Stop policing women’s choices.

They don’t owe you an explanation for their appearance, ambition, anger, or boundaries.

7. Model better masculinity.

Kindness is masculine. Empathy is masculine. Respect is masculine.

This isn’t about guilt.

It’s about growth.

It’s about owning the power you have and choosing to use it to make things better.

Final thoughts

Feminism isn’t a trend.

It’s a survival mechanism.

For some people, it’s the difference between feeling safe and being in danger.

Between being seen and being erased.

Between having a voice and being silenced.

So if you’re a man, especially one with daughters, partners, sisters, friends… this is your call to action.

Do better.

Be better.

Not out of guilt.

Out of love.

Out of empathy.

Out of basic fucking decency.

This is the hill I will die on.

Now, read it again.

Then go show up.

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