I don’t know if it is arrogance or wisdom but when I am out socially, I always come away with lessons about my own behaviour. If a person is aggressive and not good at listening: I ask, “How am I like that? How can I be more open and compassionate?”
I watched people “celebrate” last night in an expensive restaurant that was crowded and noisy. Some of the women were in full flirt ” I am available” mode. The groups gathered around tables were mirroring to one another what was “the way to be”. The code is held in rituals that go back for decades.
We learn what to eat; what to say; how to dress; how to wield our sexuality; how to show power or social power. We observe our parents and then our school mates. And as adults we go into a world that is chaotic and confusing. Immediately, we look for where we will “fit in”. We look for social behaviours that are familiar to us.
The young women were circled around tables wearing bodycon dresses, flipping their hair, drinking heavily and as the evening wore on talking more and more loudly and insistently about how someone had victimized them.
I was once again brought up short by the contrast of ideas. The women were broadcasting (pun intended) their economic power by eating at an expensive and well reviewed restaurant. They were wearing clothing that only the securely upper middle class could afford. The shoes were high and demonstrated their commitment to the circus of sexual attraction. Their hair looked like they had just left the trailer to go onto a movie set.
They were ready for any kind of close up you can name.
And yet as the alcohol set in, they energetically “reinstalled” the victim stories. They told of the ex who had gutted them. They stridently took the center of attention to drag the past infliction of an old boss who disrespected them. They told of friends who were ghosting them. And it became louder and louder at all three of the tables.
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Because I rarely go out where alcohol is working its black magic, I was a bit shocked. I wondered if men who are well lubricated need to take the floor to do the victim dance?
Somehow, I think not. And I rarely see upper middle class men going out in clothing that shows every mole on their bodies. So why is it that women hold themselves in such low self esteem that they believe that their sexuality is currency? And why is it that women allow other women to practice being defeated, rejected, victimized.
I would love to see a world where there was an instant interjection. Someone at the table just saying, “Mary. Stop living the martyr story. Stop talking about how you can’t get a break. Find your power woman!”
When I got home I was just exhausted by the energy in that space. I stood on the deck and listened to the wind saying nothing at all. And I thought, “What have I learned?”
My vigilance has increased for those times when I am shit talking to myself. I don’t want to be someone who only feels valuable if I have money; who dresses to fit in to some very skewed concept of feminine power; who gets into a biggest losers competition about how weak and damaged I am.
How women got to a place where they so clearly misunderstand the power of authenticity is absolutely clear to me. It has been a difficult and punishing journey through the generations to be a women. But enough is enough. It is time to understand what happened and to simply refuse to play into the “game”. Everyone who is alive has had to rise above challenges. It does not make you more interesting.
The way out is to be Pink or Serena Williams or Tina Fey or Adele but in your own way. Step into your own authenticity, and be “all that”, all that you are. It takes guts. It takes facing the fear and it takes facing a whole shit load of demons. And if for one minute you don’t think these giant spirited women haven’t gone through a process, you are falling for the myth trap of simply letting others tell you who you are.