No, not the 4 letter one. I’m talking about the one that’s twice as long and seemingly more taboo. Feminist.

A friend recently shared a post featuring a quote from Caitlin Moran, author of How To Be A Woman, referencing some dire statistics in relation to being a feminist. Mainly, that only 29% of American women consider themselves a feminist. Now, I’m not sure where that statistic come from, but if it’s true, we are in trouble.

We used to joke about the F word when I was a first year at an all women’s college. Many of us green around the edges 18 year-olds thought it was a thing of the past, or a word reserved to describe the ideology of angry man hating lesbians (just for the record, I’ve met lots of lesbians and none were angry or man hating). During our 4 years there, we learned that the F word is relevant and for everyone.

Here’s the thing. If you are a woman with a pulse, you are probably a feminist. If you believe in equality for all, you are a feminist. If you think you should have the right to be educated, work, own property, vote and otherwise operate as a free human being in society, you are a feminist. If you don’t want to be discriminated against, harassed or otherwise taken advantage of because you are a woman, you are a feminist. If you think traditional gender roles can be limiting, you are a feminist. If you believe all women should have these basic rights, you are a feminist.

And, you don’t have to be a woman to be a feminist. Many men consider themselves feminists because they believe in these things too. Also, feminism is not about being manly. It’s not about turning women into men, it’s about celebrating the differences between the sexes and valuing what each can contribute. It’s about respecting and loving yourself, as an empowered woman living the life that you choose.

It might seem that since we have all these basic rights in the United States, there isn’t a need for feminism. But here’s the thing. Politicians are always talking about reproductive rights and more recently, gay marriage rights. There is still a glass ceiling in some fields, women are still objectified in the media, and in real life. There is still harassment and abuse, sexual or otherwise, going on all the time. Miss Representation, a documentary and organization, takes a close look at discrimination against women, even women at the highest levels. Indeed, feminism is still relevant today.

When I was little, I thought I would change the world. These days, I’m mostly changing diapers. I’m a stay at home mom, which was the last thing I ever thought I’d be when I was growing up. But, here I am. I’m raising two girls and even though I’m living out the traditional family structure, you better believe, I consider myself a feminist. And I’m doing my best to raise strong, independent, smart, empowered young women.

So, to all you women out there. Mothers, grandmothers or daughters, sisters or friends, gay, straight, or bisexual, partnered or single – you owe it to yourself to learn more about feminism, see how it fits in with your lifestyle and proudly claim it as your own. And then, spread the word, literally. If 29% is an accurate statistic, the F word is in serious need of a revival. Let’s do it together.

Sometimes I try very hard to be strong. I am strong. We are all strong. But, does strength mean we cannot cry? I do not think so. I believe crying can be a great release and a strength in itself.

After my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer this year, I did cry intially. Out of shock. Of fear. Of uncertainty. Of confusion for why such a thing would happen to a beautiful, loving person.

For those who have experienced receiving the news that a loved one has cancer or that you, yourself have cancer. I feel that you understand those words above. The mix of emotions that happen so quickly and vanish just as fast because you try to compose yourself as society tells us to.

My mother and I cut our hair together at a salon on 1.3.14. The idea was that our hair would be used to create a wig that should could wear during her chemo treatments. It was an emotional day, but I only shed a few tears the whole day.

"Doing good, Bri, " I thought to myself, "You are keeping your composure."

But, why did I do this? Why did I feel the need to "keep my composure"? I wanted to be strong for my mother just as she wanted to be strong for me.

Last night I started to look in the mirror while getting ready for bed. I looked at my hair and a realization came over me. My mom will have my hair soon. We just mailed it to the wig company. Immediately, my eyes started to tear up and I couldn't contain myself.

That's when I came to an additional realization...

Crying is not a weakness. Crying is a strength. It helps us release all those emotions that if kept guarded or hidden or buried inside will cause worse repercussions later on down the road.

Crying takes confidence and security in oneself to know it's okay let go and be human. To feel, to hurt, to release.

A photo of me crying during that release. Crying can be beautiful. I feel beautiful in this photo. You should feel beautiful when you cry. Embrace it.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10101644809181235&set=gm.1412943112279100&type=1&theater

"I've been struggling in various ways with the question "What is beauty?" since I first became aware of your work, Jade. Pondering this video was a very emotional experience, and it took me to a place where I finally understand.

We live in a culture where the female form is glorified. Society constantly defines and then redefines its aesthetic value. Curves are appealing and then they’re not. Boyish figures are sexy, and then they’re not. Big, fake breasts are in, and then they’re not. It’s no big news that women, usually from a young age, have body image issues. This is just a fact of life in America, where even if a woman possesses the look of the moment, she will find fault somewhere, with something. Her nose, her ankles, her elbow? I’ve met very few women in my life who are completely happy with how they look.

Pregnancy and motherhood change women’s bodies. There is no way around it. Sometimes, women feel they’ve changed for the better. Other times, not so much. Pregnancy will leave its mark on your body – stretch marks or a little paunch where there used to be nothing. Nursing? Well, let’s just say your breasts will undergo huge transformations and never quite be the same again. And motherhood – the lack of sleep and time to oneself will leave you probably a bit more wrinkled and squishy around the edges. Many women lament the loss of their pre-motherhood body. Change can be challenging.

Personally, I’ve struggled with body image throughout different periods in my life, just like everyone else. However, I’m proud to say that I like my mother body. It reminds me of what it (and I am) capable of. A woman’s body is amazing. The stretch marks and little tummy remind me that I extended to provide a home for a human being. My body grew and housed a baby for 9 months and then birthed it into the world (twice). A rather amazing feat, if you ask me.

The changed breasts? Same thing. I know we are a bit obsessed with these lumps of flesh in our society. But really, I’ve never found them more beautiful than when (and even after) they’ve performed their function – they nourished my children. Also, pretty amazing.

Yes, mothers are tired. I’m not sure if it lasts forever, but mothers of small children, are definitely tired. Tired mothers grow wrinkles, at least I do. Mostly around my eyes. They let me know that I’ve cared for my children, even at night. Whether I’m doing the right thing or not, I’m trying. And a parent who tries, is beautiful.

And then there is the lack of time for personal pursuits. I choose to use my little free time for projects dealing with my children, family, our home or writing. I could use some of that precious time for the gym, but for the time being, I don’t. My exercise is limited to carrying, chasing and playing with my children. And if that results in me being a little more squishy than I used to be, that’s fine by me. It’s a reminder that I have more to care about than just myself, which is a wonderful gift.

Our children leave marks on our bodies, life leaves marks on our bodies. It ‘s how we choose to see those marks that defines them, and in turn, helps defines us. If we look at ourselves and see a failure – failure to measure up to society’s standards for beauty or our own desire for a past beauty – that will affect us. And it will taint everything in our lives. If we look at ourselves and see a success – success of our bodies to produce life, success of ourselves to nurture it – that, too, will affect us. And it will taint everything in our lives.

So, choose to see yourself as beautiful no matter what shape your body is in. Embrace those changes rather than be embarrassed by them. Let them remind you of the greatness that you are capable of, the mundane and wondrous act of creating new life. It will send a transformative message to your partner, your children, your friends, yourself. Who knows, it might even change the world.

I do not have the perfect teeth
nor do I have a model's feet -
but I am beautiful.

To many, it may seem odd that a man may call himself a feminist: I guess it is a testament to being surrounded by strong women since birth: Kathleen Ryan, Mary Martin, Nancy Juergens, Aunt Linda, Aunt Martha, Irene Winters, Meera Rao, and many more.

It's so hard to find a beginning of the "Story of my Body" but I can remember even as a child feeling embarrassed to be seen naked and feeling like other girls looked better than me before it became a teenage obsession. I know through all the personal healing I have done over the past 20 years that it all goes back to being sexually abused for years by family "friends" beginning at the age of 5 years old. I also know that I have never been so happy and in love with myself AS I AM now.

Like many women I know, being manipulated and violated on the mental and physical level at a young age really screws our heads up for a while. The beautiful thing is that we really do hold the power within us to reshape our way of thinking about ourselves and also they way we see ourselves. It's not easy and it's not quick but it's most definitely possible. I believe for myself the way I responded later to the abuse was through Self-sabotage. I didn't know this until years later but see all the little things that use to be my obsessions were really my way of making myself continue to feel ashamed, even though I knew it wasn't my fault.

When I was an early teenager, I exercised like crazy but once I hit 16 years old, my body was changing and I couldn't handle the changes. I become anorexic first then eventually seriously bulimic. I wanted to commit suicide more times than I can count because I couldn't control it and eventually used alcohol and drugs to keep me skinny and numb to the self hatred I had. Every comment about how skinny I was fed me to become skinnier, which eventually became my own personal competition. I was in a really dark place by the time I graduated high school and feel like I'm lucky to be alive with all the abuse and risks I took over the next several years.

Eventually I started to wake up. I know that yoga has been one reason I have come to love myself unconditionally. Even when I was doing all the wrong things to stay skinny, I still enjoyed being active. When I first tried yoga, something happened and little did I know at the time, it would be what saved me from killing myself and my way of living fully while helping others to feel awesome. Even after having 2 children and setting addiction aside, I still would make myself vomit if I felt the need until a trip to Costa Rica in 2008. I was at a yoga retreat and we practiced a fire ceremony with Ganesha Mantra as we threw rice in the fire and brought to mind our wrong doings, I realized I was doing wrong to myself with all the self-sabotaging behavior and it was time to burn it in the fire! I have not EVER made myself vomit from that day forward and truly love myself unconditionally for the first time ever in my life!

I have 3 children now, my youngest who is a girl and want to be a role model for her as well as other females. We can all have hang-ups and bad days but it's a true possibility to have Unconditional Love for your body. I use to have the idea "when I weigh this, or when I can wear that I will love myself". Those days are over and I am IN LOVE with who I am and my amazingly healthy and beautiful body. I am a Goddess and am proud of every accomplishment that has brought me to this peaceful place.

We all have our own issues to deal with and mine are slowly fading away. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and really just don't give a shit if someone cares about my cellulite. Or maybe it's because I know life is much bigger than the tiny hang-ups I personally hold onto. "My Little Monster" still lives inside me but now is being nurtured by me instead of pushed down and hidden away. I know when it needs attention and use my yoga practice and healthy lifestyle to keep it happy. I live now at a higher vibrational frequency than ever before and LOVE my life and my body.

Namaste.

(Photo of Lulani, mother of 2, by Jade Beall)

My body is celestial, divine
My curves like mountains and valleys,
Neither plains nor plateaus.
Little lumps and bumps like gravel under my skin
And hair shooting up like sprouts