Domestic in Training

I enjoy cooking.
There, I said it.

I always have,
even before the likes of MasterChef commercialised it and sold it to mainstream society.

Its edible art.
Aestheticism for all the senses.
Its rather fun.

And as I sat at my desk,
(ignoring my blatantly terrifying tower of practise chem exams),
chewing on my (late) culinary masterpiece that is lunch
and watching ready steady cook,
I came to a conclusion:
I am perfectly content to apologise to all those who have placed their hopes in me.

I'm ready to give up feminism and put on an apron.
I will not amount to anything in life,
but I'll settle for becoming a well-trained domestic.

I joke.
I do not intend on giving up on my educational pursuits.
Nor do I have such little respect for housewives.
I also don't believe that making such a choice means sacrificing the cause of feminism.

Empowerment
shouldn't be yet another extreme image or unrealistic expectation to live up to,
it should be about the right to make your own choices.
To succeed how you want,
if you want,
or not.

I made a tumblr, because its easier for me to follow certain blogs this way, but I am rather confused by it.
I'm far from technologically illiterate, but I am slightly blind when looking for "comment" buttons.