Why I gave up on feminism, myself, and humanity, and how I’m trying to get back on track.

Is there any hope left?

Hello beautiful people. Happy New Year. I apologize for not wishing you all a merry Christmas. I have been feeling exhausted and unmotivated for a while. Writing these first few sentences has been a struggle. I haven’t been able to write or read anything heavy—nothing from Palestine, Congo, or Sudan.

I admit that it takes a certain level of privilege to say that I don’t want to read anything heavy. But I also believe that there must be room for self-care. I stopped watching the news a long time ago (for medical reasons). However, I still feel guilty. My heart goes out to the people of Palestine and the people of Congo and Sudan. As an online activist, I know that there is so much a person can do from just their phones. But I also feel powerless, and that is the problem.

I fought so hard this past year. I received many insults, and I put myself out there. But did it stop the men from killing their girlfriends? No. Did it stop the bloody incels and man-children? No. I’m only eighteen, and I haven’t been a feminist for long, let alone a feminist activist. I wasn’t naive enough to think that the world would just change, or was I? Maybe I was hoping for some huge progress.

What hurt me the most this past year was that I blamed myself in a weird, twisted way. I know I put myself out there and I was loud and vocal. But there is a part of me that wonders: Could I have been louder? Could I have been more aggressive? Is there something more I could have done? I know that I can’t be held responsible for the actions of foolish people, ignorant people, and people who have refused to learn. It can’t possibly be my fault that a human won’t open a goddamn book.

But it still felt like I wasn’t trying hard enough. I compared myself to other feminist activists, looked at what they were doing, and used it to bring myself down. It was horrible. I felt horrible.

I’m ashamed to say it, but I gave up. I gave up on feminism, I gave up on myself, and I gave up on humanity. That’s why I’ve been mute. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s more of an “I care too much” situation.

I wish I could say that now I don’t feel as guilty or that now I’m more hopeful that my feminism is not going to waste, but that would be a lie. I am hoping that by feeling all my feelings, I will get over it. In the meantime, I would like to ask you what you think I can do to refuel and not lose hope.