Sunday, 10 March 2019

# conformity # girlhood

what makes a woman

(image found here)
We are not delicate, fragile little things meant to be pampered and protected. We are not little, broken china dolls waiting to be fixed and mended. We are not clueless wanderers at midnight looking for a quick fix and helpless moments of intoxication. We are not the malleable kind of women you keep to mold and bend and shape and twist and distort. Most definitely not the kind of women to take the pointless form of whatever desire you wish for us to be, whatever dry assumption you think of us to be, or whatever complication you wish for us to deal with - an overbearing and burdensome extension of your own life that now becomes a part of mine. And I can help you deal with all the trauma and pain, and I can sit by your side to listen to you mindlessly doze away for hours, to sit in the awkwardness of silence for hours, and to gaze at you lovingly and softly and patiently and calmly, but we must have you know that we are not the kind of women to own and to be owned. We must have you know that we are not the kind of women to sit and weep over a potential lost cause. That we are not the kind of women to fall in love with words faster than actions.

We will not sit, we will not stand, we will not bow down in desperation. Instead of waiting behind to be loved, we move forward to be loved by focusing on our own betterment, our own dreams, and our own lives. We learn that to love can mean finding contentment in solitude. We learn that to love can mean accepting the absolute nature of our imperfections. We learn that to love and to be loved can act as segregated agencies beyond the cohesivity we tend to impose upon these languages of kindness. We learn that the unexplainable nature of desire, it's agonizing ambiguity, it's painstaking unpredictability, the way it borders between love and lust, while they are the things we choose to live for represent less than a fraction of the feminine experience. We learn to only give as much as you receive. We learn to only open up our hearts and minds to those who stick to their own words. We learn that affection isn't the only response to attention.

We learn that there's more to being a woman than neutrality and constant reciprocation, and that it's okay to hone our sense of intuition, and that's it's okay to be divisive, or reactionary, or sentimental,  or disagreeable. That it's okay to be the things least expected or most expected of us. That to not fit into a specific standard, and to embrace your inability to do so can make for an interesting character. That to choose to exist as a predictable force is just as acceptable as unconventionality. That to be anything and everything we want or choose to be is an ideal we should strive for, and that we should acknowledge the pointlessness of trying to be defined by the words and actions of others. That the extent of our value is not so much molded by the external but a deeper process of internalized reflection. That as women, we should learn to take advantage of our constant state of performativity rather than rejecting it. That as a woman, we should learn to be the ones to dictate our own sense of selves and our own place in life. That as a woman, what everyone else around you engages in should be their own business. That feminine intervention is less of necessity than we have been brought up to believe. That as a woman, we should learn to love ourselves before expecting to be loved by others.

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