Every Inch A Woman πŸ’„πŸ’‹

Kiss And Make Up (The ‘F’ Word)

Feminism. The ‘F’ word. There, I said it. Whilst we have come a long way since the Suffragette’s movement of the late 19th and early 20th century, sometimes it feels like the costumes have changed but we haven’t progressed at all. Women still have to fight for their place at the proverbial table (after laying it lovingly with food that they have bought and prepared themselves and then clean up afterwards.)
‘Bring Back Our Girls’ – a terrifying unthinkable plight for some who weren’t lucky enough to be born into the ‘free world.’ Did we actually bring back the girls or merely move on to the next celebrity fuelled headline after a few weeks of tut tutting and saying how awful it was? Out of media sight, out of mind?
The lenient judgement in the Oscar Pistorious trial for the murder – sorry – ‘culpable homicide’ of his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp.
O.J Simpson flashback anyone? Are we to derive from this that those with enough money are quite literally a law unto themselves, or that a woman’s life is simply not as valuable as a man’s?
Let’s move onto India where the Indian minister Narendra Modi said that rape is ‘sometimes right, sometimes wrong.’ A rather dismissive attitude for an official to have in a country where two girls were gang raped and hung from a tree. Not to mention the seven year old who met the same fate back in July, and those are just the cases that we are aware of.
Acid attacks are highly reported in this part of the world (acid is thrown into the victim’s face resulting in disfiguration, blindness and even death.)
Mercy killings, female circumcision, domestic violence – the list goes on.
We are blessed to live in a country where we have a voice to vote and say what we like, and pretty much do what we like. Nowhere is completely without it’s problems.
Dressing a certain way will always evoke stereo typical statements and pre judgement. Of course there is a time and a place for everything, but is it fair that women are subjected to lewd comments made on a misguided judgement that she is ‘gagging for it’ if either her skirt is too short or top is too low? Why is it that women in some industries are still paid less than men even though they are just as qualified (and sometimes more based on my experiences and that of some of my friends?) Why do women have to fight harder for the same rights and need to prove themselves time and time again? It’s a lose lose situation that doesn’t leave a nice taste in one’s mouth when such assertion earns a woman the title of either a venomous bitch or a man hating lesbian, and a man is merely ‘motivated’ and usually rewarded for his efforts.
The saddest part for me is that whilst we will happily sign petitions and donate to help our sisters abroad or over here, on a daily level it sometimes feels like there is little solidarity or love in the sisterhood. Has society set us up to be intolerant of each other re the life choices we make and in general, and have we played right into their hands? As a thirty something single woman I have chosen and derived from my earlier mistakes that I would rather be single than to settle in an unfulfilling relationship. You would think that not adding to an already overpopulated planet just for the sake of ticking motherhood of your life’s ‘to do’ list would be commended, but no. Apparently if you are happy, positive and living your life as a single woman without the need to cling to either a man or a baby, you have a missing gene and are some kind of misfit. Whatever you have achieved on a personal or professional level is disregarded with a sympathetic, and let’s be honest, somewhat patronising, ‘Oh, are you still single?’ thus wiping out any kudos you may have had in one fell swoop. When did London turn into Noah’s Ark with this compulsion for everyone to walk in the rain two by two? I, and many women like me, have realised that our identity is not tied up in a relationship.
We are branded with our names from the off, firstly by our fathers and then by our husbands. Women who don’t get married are titled Miss and are spinsters but a Mr’s a Mr the whole of his life. Hashtag, go Ms!
My life is not a distraction to fill time that I will drop as soon as the ‘right man’ comes along. If you look at the stats, most households are single, but rather than rebound from relationship to relationship I’d rather wait for the real thing. Again, an honourable trait you would think. Wrong! Why aren’t I dating? Don’t I want to meet someone? Of course. Do I want to waste my time in an unhealthy environment with no longevity? Hmmm…
Understandably men are confused by the mixed signals of feminism and equal rights but it’s as simple as this. I would like to have my own opinion and still have the door held open for me. I take pride in my appearance but applying lip gloss doesn’t slash my iq level or the ability for my brain to function. I can be tough because I’ve had to be. In the same way that men can feel emasculated in today’s society, women can also feel stripped of their femininity in a world where it’s compulsory to fight, because sadly only the strong survive.
I think that Marilyn Monroe was probably the greatest business woman ever. She poo – poo – pee – doo’d her way into our hearts and had enough savvy to mix her sex appeal with a vulnerable, (not so) dumb blonde persona, thus making her a ‘single’ threat. Everyone knows that you can’t be beautiful AND smart AND talented, right? There’s always a ‘Surely she slept with someone to get that promotion,’ or ‘Everything was handed to her on a plate,’ or some other negative connotation for those women that ‘have it all.’ And the worse perpetrators of such allegations? Other women! In some cases, whilst the above may be true, for the vast majority of us it isn’t. So come on ladies. Let’s kiss and make up. There’s enough hate in the world without us adding to it. We’re better than that. I personally would like to see feminism working for all of us in terms of equality and rights, based on capabilities and not gender, race or anything else. But just like Scarlett O’Hara, I’ll worry about that tomorrow…
That clink you just heard was me jumping off my soapbox and landing in my stilettos. I paid for them myself.


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