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I didn’t know much (anything) about this book, or Moran, before beginning; however, I was pleasantly surprised by Moran’s accounting of her own life. Her writing is blunt, honest, and quite funny, all while tying in her “strident” feminism.

Before reading this book,  I wouldn’t really have considered myself a feminist. In fact, reading a book on feminism wasn’t really on my “to do” list. However, I appreciate how Moran was able to simplify feminist ideas into something tangible and “everyday” for the jo-average reader. She recounts experiences all women have gone through, and others that most women will. All the while empowering female readers to take themselves more seriously, cut themselves some slack, and demand to be treated equally.

Throughout most of the book I was wondering if perhaps some of these measures of “inequality of treatment” couldn’t be fought simply by ignoring them and creating an expectation that you be treated the same as anyone (man) else. Moran concedes to this point at the end of the book, which made me feel more comfortable with her down-to-earth approach to feminism.

I am often scared of feminism, as I think many people are – or at least put off by it. It has always seemed like a bunch of angry women running around demanding that all women feel the same way about everything as they do – from workplace pay to wearing a bra – which is annoying, let’s be honest. I like wearing a bra, it keeps me warm and makes me feel secure. However, if you’ve ever been a woman and lived, you have likely encountered some sort of sexism that’s annoyed you in one way or another. So, I suppose it is important that we continue to reframe gender “norms” and ask ourselves what kind of person we want to be, how we fit into society, and how we wish to be treated. That seems fair enough. This is the angle of feminism Moran hones in on.

I will say, the few chapters toward the end of the book dealing with children, pregnancy, and abortion left me feeling positively put off by my reproductive organs. It’s not a stretch to say I was a bit afraid of my womb after those chapters. This is likely because I have never been pregnant, so I don’t have a real life experience to draw off of, like I did for most of Moran’s other anecdotes. However, the whole thing sounds rather unpleasant.

My biggest problem with the book was that Moran is just so frigging British that some of the jokes were lost on me – this is a giant let down  to my anglophile ego. Some of the jargon was just so unfamiliar to me that at times I knew I was missing the nuance of certain points, or humor. That’s a reader issue; however, I won’t fault her for writing in her own language!

Check this book out and get more information on Goodreads.