I found myself despising all men.

In the pages of the Guardian, a dissatisfied feminist howls at the Moon:  

Life isn’t going how we thought it would. We’re being left behind and without the financial ability (or housing) to freeze eggs or go it alone, or adopt… The idea that single people in their 30s are all having fun is a lie. We are the have-nots and we are sad. What now?

In response to this mournful noise, the Guardian’s resident agony aunt, Mariella Frostrup, informs us that “society has not yet shape-shifted enough to fully integrate us,” by which she means unhappy feminists, and that “the seismic changes needed to make the world more bearable… aren’t happening fast enough.” The possibility that feminist expectations may not be entirely realistic – and that “despising all men” isn’t necessarily a great way to attract a male partner and live a happy life – are oddly unexplored.

Instead, Ms Frostrup rambles about “social justice” and “universal childcare” as “issues that matter.” Because feminists are so thrusting and empowered that they expect the care of their own children to be organised and paid for by some other sucker.

Somewhat related, this

Via Joan.

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