This is the problem with modern-day feminism. It used to be about

Hear now, O children of the present age, the words of Tomi Lahren, whose voice, sharp as a blade and clear as a trumpet, speaks of the shifting tides of modern-day feminism: “This is the problem with modern-day feminism. It used to be about equality. Now, it's about bashing men, asking for free stuff, and tearing down other women for refusing to play victim to the trumped-up, B.S. 'War on Women.'”
These words are not born of hatred, but of sorrow — the lament of one who sees a noble banner torn by its own bearers, a movement once radiant with justice now clouded with division.

In the beginning, feminism was a torch lit in the darkness — not against men, but against the chains that bound all humankind to ignorance and injustice. It was the call of Mary Wollstonecraft, the fire of Susan B. Anthony, the courage of those who bled and wept that women might read, vote, and stand as equals beside their brothers. Equality — that was the seed from which the tree of feminism grew, watered by sacrifice and tended by hope. But as with all movements, once the seed blossoms, weeds of pride and resentment can take root among the petals.

Lahren’s cry is a warning — that when justice becomes vengeance, and when empowerment transforms into entitlement, the sacred cause begins to crumble. The ancients knew this well. They wrote that every virtue, when taken to excess, becomes its own vice. Courage without restraint becomes recklessness. Mercy without truth becomes folly. And so too, feminism without balance becomes a weapon turned inward — no longer lifting women upward, but setting them against one another, and against men, who should be allies, not adversaries.

Consider the tale of Athena and Arachne from the days of old. Arachne, proud of her weaving, mocked the goddess, claiming she was her equal. And though her skill was great, her heart was poisoned by arrogance. Athena, who once could have been her teacher, became her rival, and in wrath turned her into a spider, cursed to weave forever alone. So it is when women turn upon women, when pride devours humility, and when the pursuit of truth gives way to the hunger for domination. The divine becomes distorted; the purpose is lost.

And yet, let no one mistake Lahren’s rebuke for a rejection of women’s strength. Her voice, like a bell in the storm, calls for restoration, not destruction. She calls for the return of true equality, where men and women stand shoulder to shoulder — neither as masters nor victims, but as partners in the labor of civilization. To demand “free things,” to delight in the fall of others, or to wear victimhood as armor is to forget the strength that lies in dignity, discipline, and self-reliance. For freedom without responsibility is but another kind of bondage.

Reflect also on the wisdom of Eleanor Roosevelt, who said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” True feminism, then, is not a cry of fragility but a declaration of worth. It does not beg the world for pity but earns its respect through perseverance. A woman of true strength does not need to diminish another to shine; her light increases the brightness of all around her. To build is divine; to tear down is easy. The spirit of equality demands construction — of character, of understanding, of bridges between hearts.

So, what lesson shall we draw from this flame-lit saying? That the essence of feminism must return to its root — equality, not enmity. Let women rise not through disdain but through excellence. Let men and women alike labor not for supremacy, but for harmony. And when anger tempts the heart, let us remember that justice born of fury breeds new injustice. Speak truth, but speak it with love; fight wrong, but fight it with wisdom.

Therefore, O listeners, if you would honor the women who came before you — those who marched, who taught, who mothered nations — then walk not in bitterness, but in balance. Demand respect, but give it also. Seek fairness, but not at the cost of fellowship. For the power of womanhood is not in how loudly she strikes, but in how steadily she stands. And if the world is to be healed, it shall be by those who remember that the truest strength lies not in division, but in dignity, equality, and grace.