There are many reasons I won’t call myself a feminist, and it’s not just because I think that the label would clash with my carefully cultivated collection of prairie dresses and bandanas that I’ve been working on since high school.

The Church has always taught that women have inherent dignity, and – while I respect the arguments offered by Refine’s Rachael Killackey to the contrary – I don’t think it’s necessary to adopt a label from a movement riddled with controversy since its inception.

How Christianity elevated women before feminism ever existed

Christ and His Church brought a new and radical dignity to women long before first-wave feminism started forming during the Enlightenment. This dignity began, of course, with the Incarnation—when God Himself chose to be born of a woman.

The Church’s recognition of marriage as a sacrament also brought women a profound new dignity. No longer could a woman be casually divorced and cast aside after years of marriage for someone else. Her bond with her husband was now a sacred one, echoing the love between Christ and the Church. The Church also did away with polygamy, offering women greater stability and respect within marriage.

But Christ didn’t just elevate women through marriage. He also exalted virginity—through His own mother’s example, and by calling women to Himself in a supernatural marriage.

Throughout Christian tradition, masculinity and femininity are seen as complementary and equally necessary. Both men and women are made in God’s image and likeness, and it is through the love between a man and a woman that we can begin to understand God’s love for us.

Why I don’t need feminism to embrace my femininity

As a Catholic woman, I’ve found that the Church gives me space to flourish in my femininity alongside men flourishing in their masculinity. Through my own vocation to marriage, I’ve grown into myself as a young woman—both through the natural responsibilities of a relationship and the supernatural graces that come with the sacrament.

That said, I’ve run into my fair share of Catholic men (and some women) who hold some… creative ideas about women’s place in society. Maybe they’ve been influenced by chronically online “tradwives,” who insist that to be truly traditional, a woman must wear skirts 24/7, drink raw milk from her own cows, and never contribute financially in any way, shape, or form.

But in my opinion, these silly notions don’t require feminism to be corrected. They just need a little real-world experience—and maybe an embrace of one’s actual vocation—to realize that Catholic women, including mothers, can live out their femininity in all kinds of ways. And for most of us, that probably doesn’t involve milking a cow in a long white skirt.

Masculinists, tradwives, and the online battle of the sexes

Some of these misinformed young men might also be influenced by “masculinists”—a term for a growing group of online guys who believe men are the truly oppressed sex and must liberate themselves from the burden of women.

Ironically, the core issues with “masculinism” are the same ones that plague feminism. Both insist that their sex is the oppressed one. Both try to fix that by rejecting interdependence between men and women (many “masculinists” avoid marriage and only engage in casual sex—sound familiar?). Instead of seeking harmony and complementarity, both chase power and dominance.

The hidden roots of first-wave feminism you might not know

Even first-wave feminism was tinged with the same desire for power and dominance as a response to perceived oppression. One of its “founding documents,” the Seneca Falls Declaration, reveals a problematic victim mindset more reminiscent of Marx than Genesis.

The Declaration, written by Elizabeth Cady Stanton, claims: “The history of mankind is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations on the part of man toward woman, having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over her.” While Stanton had some valid points—like the right to vote—this sweeping generalization just doesn’t hold up.

She goes on to say that when a group is repeatedly abused, it becomes their “duty to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.”

As one example of this “tyranny,” she lists the male authority within the Church, saying men give women only a subordinate role, citing Apostolic authority to exclude them from ministry and public participation. Yet Scripture and tradition clearly teach that only men can be ordained. Stanton called for women to demand equal rights to preach and teach in churches.

Occultism, rebellion, and the feminist foundation

Author and scholar Carrie Gress has uncovered even more troubling aspects of Stanton’s legacy: her deep involvement in the occult.

“Stanton was involved in the drama of the Second Great Awakening, which involved an abundance of mediums, seances, and spirit tables—or tables where knocking could be heard via the spirits,” Gress wrote in a paper for the Ethics and Public Policy Center. “Cady Stanton’s own spirit table, the one she sat at, is the inspiration for the Seneca Falls Conference, considered a seminal event of feminism.”

Gress argues—both in that paper and in her 2023 book The End of Woman: How Smashing the Patriarchy Has Destroyed Us—that even first-wave feminism is too steeped in a rejection of marriage, hierarchy, and traditional faith to be considered compatible with Christianity.

Saints, not slogans: A better model for Catholic women

Given feminism’s murky origins, I don’t believe it’s the right framework for understanding a woman’s role today. Those looking for a clearer picture of women’s purpose in the Church need only look at the many female saints who embraced radically different vocations.

The Church gives us mild-mannered Joan of Arc, who was called to lead men into battle for France; bold and witty Teresa of Avila, who reformed the Carmelite order; Catherine of Siena, who famously called the Pope out of Avignon and back to Rome; Gianna Beretta Molla, a heroic mother and practicing physician; and, of course, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the ultimate model for all women.

For women wrestling with their vocation or role, I suggest starting with a simple ask: turn to the Blessed Mother. Like any good mother, she’ll gently show you the beauty of femininity—and help you live it out in a way that’s uniquely your own.