So I did what I have been taught to do. I laughed, shot them my best "I'm completely harmless" smile and explained that the dreaded "f-word" was not nearly as terrifying as it sounded.

As I was leaving, I began to regret trying to justify what I believe to people who didn't know, or care, to understand. And it made me wonder — what is so wrong with being a feminist?

While the popular image of a bra-burning, flannel-sporting, man-hating, coat-hanger waving, lesbian feminist may seem like an easy way to spot them, shockingly, not all feminists are the same.

The average person may be surprised to learn that calling yourself a feminist does not necessary entail looking like, or acting like, the stereotype. And the scariest part about that is you might be one, and you don't even know it.

In a 1997 study, Williams and Wittig found that in a forced-choice situation, only 25 percent of respondents chose to call themselves feminists, whereas 63 percent were more comfortable claiming support for feminist goals without identifying as a feminists.

While this study is a decade old, the stigma attached to calling oneself a feminist still seems to ring true.

One version of feminism is the basic belief in social, political and economic equality of the sexes. Essentially, women should not be excluded or oppressed for simply being women.

Notice that I didn't mention any stipulations about man-hating in that definition, so I would hope that 100 percent of women agree. Since most women, according to the study, identify with the goals of feminism, why is it that it seems the biggest obstacle women have to overcome is other women?

I'm sure all women have had to overcome some sort of disadvantage because they were in possession of a vagina. Well-meaning strangers telling them to smile more, unequal support for a sports team, catcalls from passers-by — we've all been there.

But on numerous occasions, I've heard women say that feminism gives them a headache, that it doesn't affect them and that they don't understand why it's such a big deal.

Maybe it's because we've had it relatively easy. In our generation, none of us have lived in a world where we weren't able to vote, seek an education and decide when/if/how to have babies.

So now that all the hard stuff is over, that means we are equal, that we are no longer oppressed. We won, right? But unfortunately, it's not that easy.

Women are still underrepresented in government. Only 13 out of a total 100 senators are women, with only 62 of 435 House of Representatives members being women. We have yet to elect a female president. Our government is overwhelmingly male, and since they are making decisions that concern women's lives just as much as men's, we should have an equal voice.

The one thing women seem to be claiming is the academic world. After making strides in education, women currently make up 56 percent of the college population.

But along with this is something that might hit closer to home: women's safety on campus. When was the last time you went on a midnight stroll down the trail that runs along the Red Cedar River, otherwise known as "the rape trail," in a miniskirt and heels? Women's fear to walk alone on campus at night is proof that feminism is not a futile cause for the bitter women of the world. When a woman feels the need to carry her keys between her fingers, ready to ward off an attacker and make him bleed — just like her mom taught her — oppression is at hand. Hopefully, this is one thing all women can agree we need to do something about.

Until that happens, I guess us feminists will continue to listen to Melissa Etheridge and grow our leg hair, or whatever we're supposed to do.

Julie Baker is a State News intern. Reach her at bakerju6@msu.edu.