Charlotte: A Love Story “I am not like other girls”I used to say, but my name indicated otherwise. With an average of 2.3 Charlottes per class throughout primary school, it was hard to stand out. Some people tried to make me feel better about my name by reminding me that it was a princess name. I hated princesses. I hated that my name signified “womanly” and I hated that it was considered elegant. You can’t be a rebel called “Charlotte Rose” I thought.
You can’t be a rebel called “Charlotte Rose” I thought.
I later recognized that the problem was actually worse than that. I did not hate my name. I hated my gender. I felt that my name “Charlotte” categorized me as a “girly girl”. Internalized sexism caused me to have a negative perception of what it means to be a girl. I had reduced an entire gender to a stereotype that I did not want to be a part of. That is when I discovered “The 1st Lady of Sex.” Like every nine-year-old girl, I google- searched my name.
To my surprise, the first result was “Lady Charlotte Rose” a multiple award winning sex worker, educator, public speaker, author, radio presenter, and mother. She was BAD ASS. She was no Charlotte Bronte. “Lady Charlotte Rose” was a sexy strong woman that I was proud to share a name with. It may not have been a usual or even politically correct approach, but a sex worker helped me to love my “womanly” name and find my way to feminism.
