finding my inner femnivore

I think I found a new bandwagon to jump on…

I tried the Carrboro scene in college. You know the “Let’s lay around on the grass, drink $5 kambucha and spin around with hula hoops to the beat of Toumani Dibate while we talk about saving Darfur and freeing Tibet” types?  It stuck for a while, but this way of life proved unsustainable in my current location–which has more fast food per capita than any city in the state. Plus, my mother told me I needed to wear more makeup.

Four years later and here I am. Facing a true crisis of identity. I still wear my Chacos and carry an aluminum water bottle, but my image is diluted by the fact that I go to a hairstylist at least annually and I have my eyes on a made-in-Indonesia Banana Republic dress.

What will I be now?

Veganism was too hard–I tried it for a day or two but melted at the sight of soft goat cheese. And then vegetarianism wasn’t so bad until I remembered that I love steaks.

Enter femnivorism. The latest movement with roots out West, Femnivorism offers everything a woman could possibly want in life: an option for motherhood, permission to kill animals for food, and the opportunity for power that we just can’t find in the male dominated workplace.

Within Femnivorism there is room at the table for the industrious woman of the 1780’s, the defiant woman of the 1980’s, and us modern ladies who want it all.

Will you join us?

Post Inspired by: NY TIMES — “Femnivore’s Dilemna”

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