Cupcakes are delicious, no matter who's making them.
I’m not just a domestic expert. I’m not even just a domestic goddess. I am a goddess, period. You are too. We are goddesses because we’ve recognized our self-worth and the importance of our contributions — whatever they are — to society.
I am a domestic expert.
I love cooking, cleaning and crafting — among other things — and I’m pretty good at them, too. I love teaching, babysitting, and caring for my younger sister. I drive her to and from school, take her to all of her extracurricular activities, and always make sure there’s something hot and homemade for her to eat when she gets home. Cinnamon crumble cake is a favorite.
When I’m not doing any of those things, I’m usually learning how to be even better at them. I spend hours a day watching cooking videos on YouTube and recreating recipes. Pinterest is my go-to website for new crafts and ways to decorate the house. I read parenting articles from Ravishly and eagerly await new content from creators like The Domestic Geek, BitsandClips, and WhatsUpMoms.
The thing is, I’m not a mom. I’m not even a trendy lifestyle blogger. I’m a 19-year-old with my whole life ahead of me. In this century, I have so much more freedom to choose what I want to do with that life.
So for a long time, I struggled to answer the questions in my head. Could I even call myself a feminist? How could I possibly be fighting the battle for equality when I kept doing what women have been expected to do for centuries? Even at this young age, was I nothing more than the soccer mom — or God forbid, the 1950s housewife — archetype?
This, my friends, is an example of internalized sexism and misguided feminism. It’s an example of failing to recognize how awesome I am and how the things I do are awesome, too.
A conversation with my lovely friend Sakshi had me starting to think about all this with a little more seriousness. Sakshi wants to be a preschool teacher, and like me, she loves caring for people. I mentioned to her something that I wasn’t sure all women could relate to: I fantasized about motherhood and domestic goddess. Literally. I had daydreams about the kitchen I would have some day.
The very second I admitted this, Sakshi’s eyes got wider and the corners of her lips were turning into a smile. “Me, too!” she squealed. “I can’t wait to be that woman someday,” she said.
As we talked more, we both realized that there was never a man in the picture, or even someone else we depended on. We were the l superstars of our own mental movies. In this imaginary world, we did things for our own enjoyment. We raised children because it made us happy. We cooked a killer lasagna because lasagna is freaking delicious and it made us happy. We even kept fresh flowers at the dinner table because it made us happy.
What’s wrong with that? What is sexist about that? Nothing.
I realized that in both this imaginary world and the real world, I do the things I do — including caring for others — because they make me happy. I’m thrilled if it makes someone else happy too, but that’s just a bonus. I come first, because my own happiness is important. We’ve trivialized hobbies associated with women to the point that we now think of them as oppressive — but they don’t have to be, if they truly make women happy.
I’ll always support feminists fighting for women to participate in things that guys have enjoyed forever, like sports, video games, and science. We need more of that. But I also support people who enjoy doing what women have done forever. I commend people that can cook and clean independently. I support women that craft by buying their creations on Etsy or the flea market. I celebrate kick-ass women that can care for themselves and others at the same time. These women are some of the strongest, most self-sufficient and the happiest people I know. That’s beautiful.
I’m not just a domestic expert. I’m not even just a domestic goddess. I am a goddess, period. You are too. We are goddesses because we’ve recognized our self-worth and the importance of our contributions — whatever they are — to society. Whether our armor of choice is a game controller, a pen, a rolling pin, or anything in between, we are powerful.
