Stage 1: Baby feminism.
You are a sweet and innocent infant who has just opened your eyes, and what do you find in front of them? Feminism. Pink, pastel, sparkly, body-posi fun times feminism. Between selfies of women with neon-colored armpit hair and gender-swapped versions of male superheroes on Tumblr, you read a 1,500 word quote from a Judith Butler essay, sigh deeply, and think, I have been reborn.
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