I’m really sad right now. In fact, I opened up my blog editor to work on a different post, but decided to write this one instead.
I’m sad because my women friends are suffering. They crumple under the crushing weight of expectation society puts on women, to be a certain size, to be a certain shape, a certain color, a certain everything. Definitions so narrow and boxes so small no one can fit within their bounds. Always to smile, to have skin and hair and makeup and bodies so perfect they may as well be masks. They feel if they don’t fit, they have no worth. They feel they don’t deserve to look at attractive men because they feel themselves unlovely and unlovable.
And what can I say? Acknowledging those boxes is a necessity; accepting them is a choice. But the choice not to comply, to raise a middle finger at societal expectations, comes at a cost. It doesn’t mean you just get over it and now everything is fine. In some ways, it makes matters worse, because now you see it everywhere and it makes you angry. And sad. And choosing is the beginning of fighting, not the end.
I can’t say anything soothing. I can give no comfort. I chose for myself long ago, before some of these women were born, and I struggle every day. Am I allowed to make this choice? Am I allowed to have boundaries? Am I allowed to determine for myself what matters to me? And if I do, what does that make me? Does it make me ugly? Does it make me unworthy? Does it make me wrong? Does it mean I’ll be punished in some way I can’t foresee, over which I have no control?
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.
We’re raised in a culture in which compliance with expectation is rewarded and non compliance is punished. Fit in, and you’re granted a shred of humanity. Not, you know, actual humanity, but enough to be getting on with. Don’t fit in, and you’re unprotected; you become fair game for whatever shit people want to throw at you. From insult, to rape, to murder. Some people will support you, and others will certainly tell you you had it coming.
I encourage the women around me to choose which burdens they bear as far as it’s in their power. They tell me they wish it were that easy. It’s not easy. It’s not easy at all.
I can’t choose for them, or force them to choose what I did. I can’t even get them to understand the choice exists and they have power. Yet it still makes me sad to see so much pain.
Fuck this society and what it does to women. Burn it all down. To the ground.