Motherhood radicalises.
There's nothing quite like using your body to do something only female bodies do to bring home the impact of having that kind of body in this world. You go into motherhood thinking you'll come out of it still the same woman you were, and that others will continue to see you as the same valid human you've always been. Instead you find they now see you entirely differently. You've become their mum and your job is apparently to put yourself last - the job spec of mums worldwide.
When I was younger I thought I was holding my own against the men, beating them at their own game. I thought I was living evidence that the only thing holding other women back was themselves. Look at me - am I not proof that women are equal, or could be if they just believed more / tried harder / committed to stuff / stopped being such victims?
In essence, I was the special girl. I was the Belle who read books whilst the other silly girls waited for husbands.
And gradually I grew up, and realised that the illusion of equality doesn't outlast your twenties. And that the 'special girls' are just a handy tool for men to use to explain why most women are just a bit inferior, really.
Like hey - we've had a couple of female prime ministers, so that proves there is no sexism, what's your problem!
And then if you look closely, you start to see that it wasn't equality in the first place. Not even close. It was just a nicely marketed package of choicychoice 'feminism' telling women that wherever they end up is exactly where they deserve to be, because they chose it.
But it's very easy to believe that you are the embodiment of equality as a young woman, and the alternative realisation is very, very uncomfortable. Plus, it makes you awfully unpopular if you don't agree with all those lovely young men that everything is just ticketyboo for women today.