23 in a few days. 23 years old. For most of those years I have been trying to ignore the fact that this world is designed for men by adapting: refusing to be girly or coquettish, teaching myself to hate pink (take a look at Alexia’s article for more on this), just to be taken seriously. Consciously creating a character of a stoic woman for myself to live in.
Trying to replicate those aspects of masculinity that I recognised as validations for men’s success.
I suppose I once was clever enough to understand that it won’t be an easy road to success if I just am who I am. Triumphant women must overwork themselves to reach the same heights as men do. Isn’t that good to know early on?
Oh, the times I’ve felt as a lesser human being just because I’m a female. Oh, the people I never expected to make me feel that way.
Number one, a friend of my dad’s who has a daughter my age. When I was 14, he told my dad I should be “more aggressive”.
Number two, my dad who agreed with his friend on my lack of aggressiveness mentioned above.
Number three, my female teachers from 1st to 12th grade. All the times they let boys get away with their laziness. All the times a boy who hadn’t done his homework would tell a charming joke to the teacher and the teacher would make an excuse for him. Teachers closing their eyes when a boy would skip classes, because “boys will be boys”. A girl, on the other hand, must attend all classes, do all homework, exceed all expectations. A joke or an objection from a girl would lead to detention or she would be accused of being “a princess” or “having an attitude”.
I still can’t believe that some boys who did not put much effort into their studies, graduated from high school with the same grades as other struggling girls did. To be honest, this is my greatest disappointment as a woman -
seeing female teachers, our supposed guides, providing space for the same inequalities they undoubtedly had experienced themselves,
probably even more than me and my peers had at that point.
Number four, arts executives. Since there are more women interested in arts than men, men are prioritised. Their work is seen as something special because the rare occasion a man is artful stands out on the backdrop consisting of numerous artistically gifted women. I’ll echo the lyrics of Taylor Swift here, but, damn, the times I’ve wondered if I’d get the job I’ve always wanted quicker if only I was a man.
Number five, all the people who think women should not be heads of government because they’re “too emotional”. As if emotions are a disability or a mental illness. As if a woman can’t be smart if she has emotions or she can’t be emotional if she is smart. (I think this presumption will die as soon as toxic masculinity does (because men think they are the less emotional gender and they need to banish that thought and allow themselves to be emotional) and I’m hopeful we’re on our way.)
Number six, myself. All the times I’ve tried to be more masculine are the times I allowed myself to think I, as a woman, am inferior to a man. Very Jacques Lacan.
And I regret every shaming thought I’ve ever had towards another woman,
about her looks, or relationships, or choices. I should have known better that there’s no place for judgement in a world where women survive on each other’s support, really.
Of course I am deeply disappointed that men are not doing enough to support women. Mutually backing their female friends, girlfriends, sisters, mothers, daughters, wives is not enough. I wish it would be. But the problem expands beyond the comfort zone.
There is respect for people in positions of power only if they bring justice to all. But, then again, am I surprised it hasn’t happened yet? Not at all. Who would be willing to give up their throne? More so, to go an extra mile just to lose it? Or, God forbid, try to empathise?
It is hard to write a piece about femininity without thinking of Sarah Everard or the countless countries where extreme danger is a persistent norm for women. It is a troubling and unfortunate coincidence that Sarah Everard’s death occurred right before International Women’s day. Her death inspiring global outrage is, even though stemming from a tragedy, rightly positioned: at the right time and at the right place. Everywhere. Because it isn’t just London or the UK.
All women at the very least (!) have seen TV News coverage about raped and murdered women found in the woods. “Reminders” and “lessons” to “be careful out there” while no re-systematisation is done to dissolve environments where men are allowed to think they can make a woman feel unsafe.
Privilege exists in my case too though, I know that. The instances I’ve mentioned are just the tip of the iceberg from what’s going on elsewhere. But, Goddamn, I feel so tired for all of us. Not of men, but of the systems that obviously do not work and haven’t for centuries.
I’ll repeat what many women online have emphasised in the past few weeks - dismantle the systems that allow men to ignore their faults and forbid women the basic necessity of safety and equality.
Call me that crazy feminist if you want to. I don’t want to live in a world where someone is not a feminist, so let me be just that.
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