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Married to a Feminist

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A male reader writes:

I have become a daily reader of yours and just finished your pieces on public “I love you’s” and “mom” as slightly smarmy, sentimentalized uses of the language. I fully agree. 

I am an overly-educated soon-to-be-elderly unrelapsed Catholic and father of a lovely daughter whom I had to raise essentially alone in the face of relentless poisoning by her mother. It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. 

I could never understand how a mother could do such a thing to her own child. My daughter is, in some ways, still paying the price for it. 

I will skip several steps in the usual tedious syllogism and repeat what you already know: The so-called sexual revolution was the worst thing that ever happened to young women. 

I very much enjoy reading your thoughts and appreciate your calm, intuitive/rational approach to things.

Laura writes:

Thank you very much. That means a lot to me.

There’s nothing more contrary to nature than a feminist mother. It’s a contradiction in terms. Which is worse? The feminist mother of a daughter or the feminist mother of a son? In the first case, it’s the attempt by one woman to annihilate another. In the second, there is inevitable emasculation. Either way, it’s not a good thing. One of the greatest ironies of feminism is that it disregarded the power that was always there, right under its nose. Mothers rule. They have the power to achieve immense good and incalculable destruction without ever leaving home.

 

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