soupy says

Ok, it’s not a novel. It’s a New York Times column. I hate the title, but the ending made me feel like, well, what I would imagine a romance novel makes some women feel.
J. Courtney Sullivan, Changing my Feminist Mind, One Man at a Time

He gets it, yet he’s bold enough to stand up to me when he thinks I’ve gone too far. Confronted by my beliefs, Colin offers neither the typical blow-off of other men nor the mea culpa that I thought I was looking for. Instead, he listens and discusses sexism with me at length, agreeing most of the time, but not always. And when he disagrees, he says so, challenging me to think about my long-held beliefs in new ways, and occasionally even changing my mind.
—
And now I have fallen for a man who understands and respects my feminist beliefs, and who also takes me to dinner, holds the door, calls me Babydoll in a slow Southern drawl.

Embracing those contradictions has led me to discover a world between the harsh reality of sexism and the airy wishes of my love-drenched fantasies.

It’s true what my Smith professor said about progress depending upon one individual changing another for the better. What she didn’t say was that, inevitably, the change goes both ways.

And yes, I have something like 11 days left in this country. Damn, 11 days. And I am in a full stage of denial. Here’s a little clue on how I’ve been avoiding thinking about this fact.