I myself have never been able to find out precisely what Feminism is: I only know that people call me a Feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute.

Rebecca West (1892–1983) was a British novelist, journalist, and outspoken commentator who came of age amid the suffrage movement and early 20th‑century debates about women’s political and sexual autonomy. The remark is typically traced to her pre–World War I period, when “feminism” was used both as a self-description by reformers and as a dismissive label by opponents. West’s line reflects the era’s tendency to reduce women to narrow social roles—either submissive respectability or sexualized stigma—while treating any assertion of independent judgment as ideological extremism. It also shows her characteristic wit and polemical edge in public argument.

West’s point is less a confession of confusion than a critique of how the term “feminist” is weaponized. She suggests that, in common usage, feminism is defined not by a coherent doctrine but by a woman’s refusal to accept degrading binaries: passive compliance (“doormat”) or sexual availability (“prostitute”). The sentence exposes the social policing behind the label—any woman who speaks with self-respect, autonomy, or moral complexity is treated as transgressive. Its enduring force lies in showing that debates over feminism often hinge on who gets to set the baseline for “normal” womanhood, and how easily women’s dignity is recast as radicalism.