Thursday, 18 August 2011

TELL ME I'M WRONGYN!

Fair and gentle reader, I shall communicate with you one of the many words that really irk me.  Not irk as in, "I am mildly annoyed, I shall ignore you til you go away,", but irked as in "I will kill you now with whatever implement I lay my hand on first!  A penny!  I shall kill you with a penny!"

Wombyn.

What does this word mean to you?  Perhaps you find it perfectly acceptable, a gender definition that does not kowtow to da Man, does not associate itself with the old fashioned name for the female race.

It makes me think of the Wombles, but that is a recent discovery.

I absolutely detest this word.  To me it means that to be feminist, as I consider myself to be, I now have to identify myself as a womb.  I am my organs, I am the parts of the sum.

*sigh.  Deep breath*

I refuse to use this word to identify myself.  I am not just a womb, an organ to produce offspring, although I do want to use my womb sometime to produce said chicklets.  I am a woman, a person in possesion of thought, emotion, strength and self-awareness.  I am the sum of all my parts, and to single out one as being more important than another is absurd.  Ludicrous even when you consider that "Wombyn" is a female invention, as if we didn't have enough trouble getting men to think of us as something other then a nice place to deploy their soldiers and bear them hundreds of fat children.

I am woman, not wombyn or womyn (that last annoys me too), and I am an artist, a daughter, a significant other.  I am a witch, a philosopher, a wordsmith (I hope), and a darned feminist!

And now I shall end this rant with a little ditty...

"Underground, overground wombling free!  The Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we!"....

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