A feminist’s fear of the Family Meal

Well, if I was a wealthy white man of your fears, I might fear re-posting this blog.

But, thankfully, I am not a Democrat, so, I am excluded from the modern elite.

I am fully one hundred percent anti-establishmentarian.

Down with the hippies, the elite who promised us feminism would solve all our problems.

And end all wars.

As they send us poor white men off to fight their dirty battles.

glosswatch

As a child I always hated The Family Meal. Too many arbitrary rules and too much meat. I’d throw pieces of food under the table, thinking no one noticed, then watch as my brother got pudding while mine was withheld due to the scraps discovered around my chair.

Years later, anorexic, I avoided family meals altogether. I’d hide away with my homework while others ate, finally defrosting Lean Cuisine in the microwave at 10pm. It would take me an hour to eat the half-portion I dished out, then I’d retire to bed, barely having spoken to anyone.

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