It's no secret that I'm a feminist. I'm not quiet about it, and I never have been. Momma done raised me right, and all that. So, of course, Nathan was fully aware that he was marrying a feminist- and he may even have had an inkling of what that meant.
Me, on the other hand? Well, I had my suspicions (in fact they were more than suspicions, or I wouldn't have married him) but it wasn't until the other day that I had the chance to make my pronouncement...
"I watched Mulan while you were gone," he says absently as we flip through Netflix options.
"Yeah?" I perk up. I love that movie. Generally speaking, I will love any story that involves a protagonist who gender-bends to get what they want. Especially if what they want is to be a warrior.
"Yeah. I don't get why she wasn't more angry."
"What do you mean?"
"It's just- she saves the entire friggin' army and China all by herself, but when that guy she likes finds out she's not a man suddenly she's not trustworthy anymore? And at the end of the movie she just forgives him like it's no big deal!" His voice is full of disgust, and I cannot help but laugh.
"So you're saying... she should be treated the same regardless of her gender?"
He makes a noncommittal grunt, and I smile sweetly. "You are so a feminist," I say, and kiss him on the forehead.
Nobody marries a feminist, except another feminist. Men marry women.
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