“Today, we’re going to start our unit on feminism.”

That sentence, uttered by my AP Literature teacher a few months ago, excited me. For just half a second, I allowed myself to fantasize an ideal world of intellectual discussion. For half a second, I allowed my brain to begin preparing itself for reading works of literature that would foster reasonable debate. For half a second, I was looking forward to something outside of the usual coming-of-age theme that our English teachers have been beating into our heads seemingly since we were born.

However, that half a second was ruined before my teacher could even begin her second sentence.

My doomed fantasy was shattered an instant later by a loud groan coming from the back of the class, prompted by that offensive and automatically abhorrent word: feminism.

And of course to make matters worse, the groan had come from a fellow female.

I am very accustomed to the idea that I’m crazy or ridiculous for considering myself a feminist. I’m very accustomed to individuals I’m speaking with suddenly changing their tone of voice when speaking the word feminism. Their voices become hushed, just breathing out the word, sometimes even just mouthing it, as if the word itself is a social faux pas, or someone is monitoring their speech and will throw them in prison for breaking the law.

I used to do it too. I live in a conservative town, in a conservative district, in a conservative state. Because of this climate, I think that people are often extremely uncomfortable with their own views and opinions. No one wants to put their ideas out there because no one wants to be the one that is rebelling against the standard. I was afraid that by proclaiming that label as unequivocally as I desired, I would end up in a conflict, which as a teenager was something I was really trying to avoid.

And then, I saw the light. By shutting up, by not saying anything, by taking it, I was not only doing a disservice to myself, but I was doing a disservice to every other woman I know. I realized that if I didn’t proclaim it loudly, then why should I expect someone else to? We cannot address the problems and the issues if we, as women, are unwilling or afraid to be proud of ourselves.

So let me very, very clear.

I refuse to be ashamed of being a feminist.

How could I possibly be ashamed of believing that women are equal to men? How could I possibly want to sweep that under the rug or hide that part of myself?

The negative connotation of feminism and all things associated with it, the willingness to hide in the shadows, the fear we feel? That is why we are failing.

In its purest form, feminism is the simple belief that women are equal to men, and deserve the same respect and opportunity as the male sex. I think that half the battle is realizing that there is not one defined brand of feminism. Yes, there is the stereotype, but you do not have to fit that stereotype to believe in the equality of the sexes.

You can be a stay-at-home mom and be a feminist. You can be a wife and be a feminist. You can be 75 and be a feminist. You can be 16 and be a feminist. You can be a man and be a feminist. There is no certain race, religion, creed, sexuality, gender, occupation, class, interest, political inclination, or distinction that you have to fit to believe that women should be afforded the same opportunity as men. That belief is yours, and no one can take that away from you.

So that day in AP Literature, I looked back at my female classmate and realized that it wasn’t the ideas, it wasn’t the movement, it wasn’t even the issues that negatively impacted her perspective.

It was the connotation of the simple word itself. That connotation that simply by being a feminist, I am trying to establish the superiority of females, whining to stir up conflict about nothing, or the worst argument yet: complaining about trivial treatment when women all over the world are being treated even worse.

As if by being a feminist in America, I don’t care about women around the world? As if by shutting down feminists in America, you are advocating for women in oppressed areas of the world? Give me a freaking break. If the greatest country in the world, the shining example of freedom and equality and all things patriotic, can’t even get behind the idea that women should be paid the same as men, then please tell me how denying the movement behind equality of women is going to help women around the world. Really. Please tell me, because I would love to hear it.

Like I’ve said time and time again, if we can’t be an example, then how the hell are we supposed to convince other areas of the world that our brand of equality and democracy is something they should be embracing?

Whether it’s the girl in my AP Literature class or my closest friend or a woman on the other side of the country or the world or the guy in the car next to me in traffic, we have to be united behind this. The idea that we cannot get unanimous support behind something as simple as equality of the sexes is something I refuse to believe, even if it is horribly idealistic.

This may not be popular opinion, but I believe you can make feminism yours. You don’t have to subscribe to a pre-made set of beliefs or talking points to consider yourself a feminist. But being afraid of the word isn’t going to get us anywhere, it’s just going to set us back even more.

So if people are going to whisper the word feminist behind closed doors or take offense to it like I just cussed someone out or flipped a little kid off, then there’s only one thing I can do.

Say it as loud and as frequently as possible. Because if someone is going to call me a feminazi or a radical because I believe that women are equal to men, then so be it.