I’ll never forget back in college, working for University of Wisconsin-Madison’s Student Health Center (I was that girl who sat by the free condom bowl and smiled as you stocked up for the weekend), I was once sitting in a staff meeting with all the head honchos. Doctors, nurses, therapists, administrators. We were strategizing for an upcoming gender rights event and as we sat around a giant oval board room table, I had the floor. For the life of me, I can’t recall what I was pontificating about, but I remember quite clearly saying the following: “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a feminist (said with a bit of a sneer), but I do like it when a guy holds the door open for me.”
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