One of the most challenging parts of my adult life has been unlearning certain ‘truths’. Many of them were beliefs what is and isn’t possible, some rooted in class and culture and others in being a woman.
What is possible for women is often equated with what is acceptable. Things like: always look up to those who do/are better than you. Don’t brag, good work speaks for itself. Don’t be selfish. Think of others before thinking of yourself.
Sounds familiar?
When, decades later, I began to unpick those threads, they unravelled like some of my early stitchwork. I examined the pieces with a magnifying glass and found that the shared experience of being a woman is the experience of a shrinking existence. It’s the experience of being encouraged not to complain or bother others with your opinions (should you have any at all), to stifle your wants, to hide your anger. Most importantly; always show the world your smiling face.
Whenever I talk to women, regardless of age or culture, I’m surprised to see how quickly we find common ground, shared insecurities, similar experiences. How being encouraged to ‘do better’ has left many of us feeling as if we aren’t good enough. How many were socialised into silence and discouraged from speaking up and often end up apologising for having an opinion. How we’re rewarded for staying invisible (which is still dubbed well-behaved) and when things go wrong, we first look for the fault within ourselves.
We’re taught to take care of others but not of ourselves and to scrutinise our actions and decisions carefully before anyone else gets the chance. We’re encouraged to improve ourselves constantly, but rarely to accept ourselves as we are.
There is a reason why the French philosopher and writer, Simone de Beauvoir, said one isn’t born a woman but becomes one.
For me, the ‘becoming’ part has always been fuelled by the rage of being denied the expression of self. It took me a long time to dismantle those beliefs and to start valuing my own opinion as much as someone else’s. One person’s flaws, I realised, are another person’s idea of perfection.
But the unlearning isn’t done and the unpicking is an ongoing process with frequent reminders not to place one’s worth outside oneself.
‘What will others think’, that invisible spectator that cultivates a harsh inner critic is hard to extinguish, but I’ve stopped smiling for other people’s comfort and started using my anger as a compass of things I won’t accept.
I could have never done any of this without the women in my life, without their wisdom and their fights, without their support and friendship. To this day, I’m indebted to women who illuminated the path out of this shrinking existence. I’m grateful to women of the past, present and future, who don’t care about being called selfish simply because they’re attending to their needs and wants and I’ll never stop admiring women who remind us that yes, technically, we could do better, but we don’t have to because we’re good enough the way we are.
To all those and to you, dear Reader, I wish Happy International Women’s Day.
