Feminism, Romance & the Whole Nine Yards

            I have been staring at this blank Word document for approximately 13.6 minutes. Yes, I will admit 7.9 of those minutes were consumed by my slightly disgusting love making with my Jimmy John’s sandwich, but still. 13.6 minutes. I was not at a loss of words; rather, I was startled by my realization that I might just be having a grand epiphany. Halleluiah! OH MY GOD. Call the press!

Aly is having a moment.

Let’s start with some background: I am a feminist. If you asked my friends back home, everyone would confidently agree that I am a feminist. However, I read the romance. And I used to feel horribly guilty for it. While countless feminists bravely fought for the freedom of my vagina, I continually read about star-crossed lovers and sensitive female heroines. Could I really be a feminist while indulging this little habit of mine? I look to this class for the answer.

I’m pretty sure Phillips and Krentz articles about Romance and Empowerment changed my entire viewpoint on feminism and the romance. Sparks flew. Taylor Swift appeared and it was magical. These articles made an impact on my way of thinking because I had never considered that the historic ‘happy endings’ of all romance novels could be byproducts of feminism. I believed that the happy ending embodied everything anti-feminist- the girl, yet again, falls for the boy that is mysterious, controlling, and dangerous. I always shook my head at them; I mean surely these heroines could not be the feminist role models I have been searching for.

However, I now understand how these heroines could be considered feminists. These women, by some awesome power instilled in them, have the ability to make a mysterious, controlling, and dangerous man fall in love with them. They find love in a hopeless place and its not because they were physically stronger than the men- it’s because their beauty, talent, and stubbornness turned the men into better mates. They tamed the ever-illusive male beast, and I admire them for it. As a learner, I have noticed that I prefer to think of things as black and white. Those articles, and this new viewpoint, opened my eyes to the various intricacies within the world literature and social sciences. That was my new epiphany, but I have still not completely eliminated those feelings of guilt.

This is my prediction why: it’s the damn break-ups in romance. During the temporary break-up/fight scenes in romance novels, the heroines are reduced to blubbering, dependent whiners. They lose all that spunk that made the men fall for them in the first place. And to be honest, a break-up is not the end of the world. Single people have more time for naps; they don’t technically have to shave their legs as often. Single women can travel, advance in their career, reconnect with old friends - aren’t all those things lovely? But instead, in romance novels, the heroines are utterly crippled by their heartbreak. They can’t function. I say they need to look at the bright side and strap on their feminist boots.

Or maybe I just don’t know what it feels like to lose “the one”. ßLook, that’s my new ‘shades of grey’ learning style talking.

And wait- THE MOMENT ISN’T OVER.

SURPRISE. #ephiphanynumbertwo.

I think I may be missing something. In both the Phillips and Krentz articles, they describe a woman’s attraction to the ‘dangerous men’. Krentz even notes: “The flat truth is that you don’t get much of a challenge for a heroine from a sensitive, understanding, right-thinking “modern man” who is part therapist, part best friend, and thoroughly tamed from the start” (Krentz 109).

But in romance novels, its that sensitive, sweet character I am always attracted to. I preferred Jacob to Edward. I hyperventilate over all of Sarah Dessen’s male characters. I loved Duckie. So what’s wrong with me? What does this attraction say about me as a woman?

I will begin with three simple defenses to my disgust with those strong, brooding types:

1. The ‘hero-villains’ are always too damn serious. I need a little humor in my life.
2. They’re too moody. I’m moody. Enough of this.
3.  Do flowers and compliments really mean anything? I would rather have the man notice a million little things about me than say something awkwardly romantic. Let’s be real here.

So that’s why I like the nice guys, and for a while, I thought my attraction to the nice guys was demonstrative of my feminist nature. I loved the characters that would naturally treat me well! However, this class has put this into question. The nice guys don’t take any work to be with; therefore, am I weaker because I don’t want a challenge? Am I anti-feminist because I want a romance that doesn’t test my perseverance and strength?

So, I don’t really know what it means to be a woman in relationships. However, I’m not quite ready to give up on my identity as a feminist. I have a vagina, and I want to be in control of it. According to Moran, I must be a feminist.

Thus, this class has allowed me to analyze myself as a romantic and a feminist. I just realized that when I was asked to think of my epiphanies during this class, I only analyzed my relationship to my romantic preferences.

Is that anti-feminist of me? Do I look fat in these jeans? The world may never know.