鸡爪抓: “对敏感的指控是他们设置的自证陷阱” The accusation of being ‘too sensitive’ is a man-made construct of self-justification
1. 您最初是如何接触到女性主义的？是否有某个契机让您开始意识到“性别”在生活中的分量？
大概是2019年左右，互联网上掀起了”穿衣自由”“body shame”的讨论。坦白说，在此之前，我深受社会、家庭等对女性容貌、身材标准的规训，所以这个话题对当时的我来说，大概是第一次有了“主体性”的视角，当然主体性的建立不是一蹴而就的，但至少开始萌芽了。“客体”到“主体”的转变会塑造完全不一样的自我认同和认知世界的角度，后面的事情就顺理成章了，我越来越关注性别议题，慢慢意识到“不对劲”，但此时我还完全不算一位“女权主义者”（自我认同下），因为还没有建立系统的性别视角。2022年我开始阅读一些性别书籍，比如《厌女》《乐园之丘》《女孩们的地下战争》，以及听播客《海马星球》，同年唐山打人案件的发生点燃了我的怒火，我觉得我需要做些什么，就开始做播客，确认了自己是女权主义者。
2. 在您看来，现代中国女性主义最核心、最迫切需要回应的问题是什么？
这个问题太大了。我始终不觉得女性主义有“最核心的问题“，我觉得每个问题都很重要，解决单个问题并不能改善女性处境，女权运动不能只是点状的。
3. 您在内容创作中常常强调的理念或价值观有哪些？它们如何影响您的叙事方式与表达风格？
没有特别强调的，想到啥说啥；
叙述方式和表达风格更取决于创作者个人性格和擅长什么吧，比如圈有光主业是编导，她就很擅长写剧本和用演绎来表达；我发现我目前不太擅长写剧本，所以我和她的表达方式会不同。
4. 您如何理解“敏感”这个词？作为女性主义创作者，您是否曾因“太敏感”而被误解，您如何处理这种评价？
“你太敏感了”说明对方不共情、不认同、不尊重、不反思。他明明可以说“我不认同你的观点，因为xxxxxx”进行良性的对话或讨论，但他偏要定性，此刻议题不再是焦点，针对个人的指控成为了焦点。他的目的：捂嘴；手段：设置自证陷阱。
我把其统一解读为“你很敏锐”，把消极的否定转译为坚定的自我认同。他者的评价跟我没关系。
5. 您个人的审美偏好（例如剪短发、喜欢中性气质或其他风格）会影响您对性别表达的观点吗？这些风格选择对您而言意味着什么？
不会；我没有给我的穿衣风格或发型注入政治性。但我确实发现之前“剪寸头”给我带来了一些新的视角，可以分享一下。在某种程度上，剪寸头算是“脱美役”“脱性缘”的符号，尽管我当时剪寸头的动机只是想要有一些不一样的体验。但在他者的视角下，我会被自然而然的认定为同性恋（并且是T），我会被关切地询问受了什么创伤或刺激，我会被认为不再有男人喜欢，此时我才彻底体会到“第二性”。化妆、长发、裙子这些符号才是“女性”，gender female不能代表你是“女性”。于是我又想到一个场景：大学的时候我打扮得美美的，我和朋友嘻嘻哈哈“老娘化妆可不是给男人看的”，她说“对啊谁给男人看啊，我们为了自己开心”。其实我感觉得到大太阳下皮肤闷闷的，束腰勒勒的，假睫毛黏得眼皮很不舒服。
6. 您如何看待“性”在女性主义表达中的位置？它是解放、禁忌还是一种再政治化？
性解放和脱性缘看上去是矛盾的，但它们其实都同时指向“女性的主体性”。
我认为性是需要政治化的。但政治化就会出现一个问题，左还是右。最终还是回到博弈，当然我认为博弈这个过程是很重要的。对我个体来说，是否脱性缘是流动的，但我永远在政治上支持脱性缘。
7. 社交媒体的算法、流量偏好以及“热点逻辑”会影响女性主义内容的呈现方式。您如何在创作自由、平台规范与公众期待之间找到平衡？
理想状态下我永远先考虑创作自由。但实际情况，我发现我习惯性的进行自我审查：哪些选题不能做；哪句话不能说；这句话说了会不会不够完美？我不得不内化了这些规范，所以我只能说我希望我永远先考虑创作自由。
我好几次被平台搞崩溃过，现在我的小红书账号还是“半拉不死”的状态。坦白说我非常讨厌这样的规范，甚至有些平台就是一个黑箱，没有明确的规范（我想限流就限流，问我原因？你自己猜吧）我时常觉得这些平台并不尊重创作者（点名小红书）
8. 女性主义在中国的发展与历史语境紧密相连。您如何看待当代女性主义与“五四”“解放时期”以及“国家女性主义”等历史传统之间的连续与断裂？
看到这个问题的时候我有点懵，把我问住了。因为我其实是不太了解“五四”“解放时期”的女性主义的，历史上唯一有些了解的是秋瑾女士or那句口号“妇女能顶半边天”，这恰恰证明了断裂。当代女性主义更受到西方女性主义的影响，站在历史的维度上，中国的女性主义像是断代了，这很不妙，这反应的是政治上的忽视。
9. 当内容涉及社会结构与制度性问题时，您如何在“讲故事”和“讲理论”之间做取舍？
我很想讲好故事，但我好像不太会讲故事，讲理论我似乎更擅长一些。
10. 您认为中国年轻女性正在以怎样的方式重塑女性主义？她们的主体性、表达方式、议题选择是否与上一代出现明显差异？
不好做太武断的判断，因为没太接触过上一代女权主义者。说一说更扁平的观察吧，我觉得年轻女性总体来说主体性明显强很多，表达方式也更加多元，女权主义不再是空中楼阁，只存在于学者的论文里，它融入进电影里、脱口秀、自媒体等；最主流的议题还是职场、家庭、性等，但也多了更radical的讨论比如“服美役”“脱性缘”。
11. 您平时喜欢阅读、观看或关注哪些作品、作者或账号？这些内容如何影响您对女性主义的理解和创作者身份？
没有特别关注的某个个体，什么都看。我一直警惕神化个体，进行性别研究更不应该有太重的粉丝心态，只参考观点，最重要的是有自己的思想，培养独立思考的能力。
12.在长期创作与公共暴露的过程中，您是否经历过倦怠或自我怀疑？是什么让您坚持继续把女性主义作为一生的议题？
倦怠倒是算不算上，但会时不时陷入政治性抑郁和虚无主义；
我是ADHD，对任何事情都是三分钟热度，只有搞女权这件事情，我从来没有想过放弃，很神奇。说不上“坚持”，“坚持”往往隐含痛苦，我不觉得痛苦，尽管这个过程经常感觉孤独，也会间歇性觉得没什么力量，但内心有个清晰的声音“这是我的使命”。
以上为未翻译版本
1. How did you first come into contact with feminism? Was there a particular moment that made you aware of the weight of “gender” in your life?
It was around 2019, when conversations about “the freedom to dress” and “body shaming” began circulating online. To be honest, before that, I had been deeply shaped—disciplined, even—by social and familial expectations surrounding women’s appearance and body standards. So for me, this was perhaps the first time I encountered a perspective rooted in female subjectivity. Of course, subjectivity isn’t built overnight, but the seed was planted.
The shift from object to subject creates an entirely different sense of self and a new vantage point on the world. Everything that followed was a natural progression: I became increasingly attentive to gender issues and gradually sensed that “something wasn’t right.” At that stage, I still wouldn’t have identified myself as a feminist, because I didn’t yet have a systematic gender framework.
In 2022, I began reading feminist books—Misogyny, Paradise Hill, The Underground War of Girls—and listening to podcasts like Hippocampus Planet. Then the Tangshan assault happened. My anger ignited. I felt I had to do something. I began making a podcast, and that was when I finally affirmed my identity as a feminist.
2. In your view, what is the most urgent issue modern Chinese feminism needs to address?
The question is enormous. I’ve never believed that feminism has a single “core” issue.
Every issue matters, and solving just one does not fundamentally improve women’s conditions. Feminist movements cannot be fragmented into isolated points on a map.
3. What values or principles do you emphasize in your content creation? How do they shape your narrative and expressive style?
I don’t particularly emphasize anything—I simply speak what comes to mind.
Narrative style is largely shaped by the creator’s personality and strengths. For example, Quan Youguang works in directing; she’s good at crafting scripts and expressing through performance. I’ve realized I’m not as skilled at scriptwriting, so naturally our modes of expression differ.
4. How do you understand the word “sensitive”? As a feminist creator, have you been misinterpreted as being “too sensitive,” and how do you deal with that?
“You’re too sensitive” means the other person refuses to empathize, acknowledge, respect, or reflect. They could say, “I disagree because ______,” which would allow for productive dialogue. Instead, they choose to label—shifting the focus from the issue to the individual.
Their goal: silencing.
Their method: forcing you into a self-defense trap.
I interpret such comments uniformly as: “You are perceptive.”
I translate their negativity into a firm affirmation of myself. Their evaluation has nothing to do with me.
5. Do your personal aesthetic preferences—short hair, androgynous styles, etc.—shape your views on gender expression? What do these choices mean to you?
No. I don’t intentionally politicize my clothing or hairstyle.
But I did notice that shaving my hair very short offered me new insights. In a sense, a buzz cut is seen as a symbol of “opting out of beauty labor” or “opting out of sexual desirability,” even though my own motivation was simply wanting a new experience.
Yet through others’ eyes, I was automatically assumed to be a lesbian—specifically a T (butch). People asked with concern if I’d been traumatized. I was told men wouldn’t like me anymore.
Only then did I truly experience what de Beauvoir called the “second sex.”
Makeup, long hair, dresses—those were “womanhood.” Merely having “gender: female” was not enough.
It reminded me of a scene in college: my friend and I dressed up and joked, “I’m not wearing makeup for men.” She said, “Right, who cares about men? It’s for ourselves.” But in reality, I could feel my skin suffocating in the sun, my corset pinching my waist, and my eyelash glue making my eyelids sting.
6. How do you view the role of “sex” in feminist expression? Is it liberation, taboo, or re-politicization?
Sexual liberation and opting out of sexual desirability may seem contradictory, but both ultimately point toward women’s subjectivity.
I believe sex must be politicized. But politicization immediately raises a question:
Left or right?
Ultimately, it becomes a matter of negotiation—and I think that negotiation itself is essential.
For me personally, whether I opt into or out of sexual desirability is fluid, but politically, I will always support the latter.
7. Social media algorithms, platform regulations, and “hot-topic logic” all shape feminist content. How do you balance creative freedom, platform rules, and public expectations?
Ideally, I always prioritize creative freedom.
But in reality, I find myself habitually self-censoring:
Which topics are off-limits?
Which sentences must I not say?
Will this be interpreted as “not perfect enough”?
These norms have become internalized. All I can say is: I hope I will always choose creative freedom first.
I’ve been devastated by platform interventions multiple times. My Xiaohongshu account is still in a half-dormant, half-shadowbanned state. Honestly, I despise these opaque systems—some platforms are complete black boxes. No clear guidelines. They restrict you arbitrarily and say, “Guess why.”
I often feel these platforms do not respect creators (Xiaohongshu in particular).
8. Feminism in China is tied to historical contexts. How do you view continuity or rupture between today’s feminism and earlier moments such as the May Fourth era, the Liberation era, or state feminism?
This question stunned me because I actually don’t know much about May Fourth or Liberation-era feminisms. The only historical touchpoints I know are Qiu Jin and the slogan “Women hold up half the sky”—which itself reveals the rupture.
Contemporary Chinese feminism is heavily influenced by Western feminisms. From a historical perspective, Chinese feminism feels broken off from its earlier lineage.
That is concerning, and reflects political neglect.
9. When addressing structural or systemic issues, how do you choose between “telling a story” and “explaining theory”?
I would love to tell good stories, but I’m not very skilled at it.
I seem to be more comfortable with theoretical expression.
10. How are young Chinese women reshaping feminism today? Are their subjects, expressions, and issue priorities distinct from the previous generation’s?
It’s difficult to make definitive claims since I haven’t interacted much with older feminists.
But from a broad perspective, I think young women today display much stronger subjectivity. Their modes of expression are far more diverse. Feminism is no longer an unreachable institution confined to academic papers. It flows into film, stand-up comedy, social media.
Mainstream issues remain work, family, and sexuality, but more radical conversations—like “beauty labor” and “opting out of sexual desirability”—have also emerged.
11. What works, authors, or accounts do you usually read or follow? How do they influence your understanding of feminism and your identity as a creator?
I don’t follow any particular individual. I read everything.
I consciously avoid idolizing anyone. Gender studies should not cultivate fan mentality.
Views are for reference—what matters most is thinking independently.
12. Over years of creating and being publicly visible, have you experienced burnout or self-doubt? What keeps you committed to feminism as a lifelong pursuit?
Not exactly burnout, but I do experience political depression and occasional nihilism.
I have ADHD; I get bored of everything after three minutes. But feminism is the only thing I’ve never once considered giving up. It’s strange.
I wouldn’t call it “perseverance,” because perseverance implies suffering. I don’t feel suffering, even though the process can be lonely and at times feel powerless.
There is a clear voice inside me: “This is my mission.”
Above is the translated, modified version
