I used to be sexist. Not covertly and quietly sexist, but I was loud and very proud to say “Yep, I’m sexist!”. I would say it like a badge of honour, I wasn’t one of those hairy arm-pitted, Doc Martin boot wearing, man hating feminists.
No siiiireee, not me. I was a “good” girl. I knew my place and I knew how to please my man!