Her “Place”

For as long as I can possibly remember, I have been told, in one way or another about “my place.” I have often wondered, as I feel that most humans do, what exactly this means.

In society, it means the space I must fill as an active member. In the church, it means my space as a part of the flock. In the family unit, it means my slot as a part of the whole.

As a woman… now things get interesting.

My “place” when I was young, was as a budding student, potential future establisher of as yet unknown feats of grandeur. The sky was the limit and my folks let me dream big – like, huge! I had an endless imagination fueled by books and stories. I played make-believe games with my siblings and these were some of the best times. I had dreams of saving the world like a superhero.

I was never told that this was wrong. My dreams were encouraged. I felt like I could reach up and touch the sky.

As a teenager, my place became a little more complicated. In come periods, hormones, awkward growth spurts and a certain affection for the opposite sex. I was intrigued and gently guided by my ever-loving parents, to focus on my goals, my big huge dreams which always seemed a little farther as I grew older.

My “place” became as a useful member of society. To go to school, get a degree, get a good job, get married and have children. That became the logical sequence. I had a role to fulfil, or several in the future, as careerwoman, as eventual wife and then mother.

The lessons had been there from the start. I had to learn how to cook, clean, sew, iron and take care of children because those were tasks that would be required of me as a “good” wife and mother. I was kind of looking forward to it too, not knowing what I do now – that society is, truly, a little unfair to women.

When I became a young adult, freshly out of university, I faced the world. Boy, what a trip!

I had to find work, which I did… several times until I stuck somewhere. I explored what it was that I liked and didn’t. I discovered that adulthood gave me some very nice freedoms too. I could say no and not feel like I was being disrespectful. I could go, do and be whatever it was I wanted. My job gave me financial freedom. If I wanted to pursue a degree, a course or a line of work, I had the necessary papers to get my foot in the proverbial door.

It was mind-blowingly awesome.

And then I started to see the subtle differences. I always knew it was dangerous to walk at night, or alone, or be in the company of strange men. This became a common occurrence. I had to watch my step a lot more. The lessons I learned as a girl became clearer; “Men are beasts.” “Don’t play with boys.” “Don’t stay out at night, it’s not safe.” “Go along with friends.” “Don’t talk to strangers.” “Don’t meet a first date on your own.”

One of my friends even offered to do this last with the excuse of “protecting my kidneys.” We still refer to this as keeping each other safe today.

Then the advice began to change, subtly but there it was. “Keep your head down.” “Don’t pick a fight, you can’t win.” “He’s a man, that’s how they are.” “You need to be prettier to hold his interest.” “Get used to it, you’re a woman.” “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t respond.” “Think carefully about your situation and suit your response to it.” “Protect yourself however you can.” “Don’t scream, nobody will help you.” “At least he’s not beating you.”

And at some point, the words become a little more subtle and a little more pointed. “Don’t be like those women.” “Look at how she dresses!” “You don’t know what it’s like because you haven’t given birth.” Sharp barbs aimed at each other. Woman against woman – because the other was prettier, younger, better, smarter, more ambitious, jaded, wounded, used, abused, morally “superior “, more accomplished, married, divorced, wiser, older, more…

The point is, a woman, from the very beginning, is taught to fear the world she lives in, to be carefully vigilant in everything she does, and to guard her sacred virginity with her life. Afterwards, she must guard her purity and her man’s ego with the same fervour. She is given a warrior’s task, a knight’s quest – go valiantly into the den of monsters and survive it all, so to speak.

And why is this so? Because, yes.

That’s the only explanation I have for why an entire gender is consistently being put down, ostracised, abused and still has no voice. When a woman speaks out, she is too brash. When a woman fights back, she is too aggressive. When a woman fights hard to survive, the world still finds a way to put her down.

These were disheartening lessons I had to learn about this new-found freedom.

Because my genitalia was assigned to me by some genetic marker, I was doomed to live a life of second-best. If I let myself falter or fail one time in my fight, second best would be all I would ever amount to.

Prince charming and his princess were never the same. He would make the life-altering decisions and she would bear and proceed to care for his progeny. Finite. The happily ever after narratives in my stories changed. There were so many potential “afters” that they made my head spin. She would get tired of being abused every night and murder him. She would live a life filled with mundane bore because “he isn’t bad and he could be worse.” He would leave her for a younger, more vibrant “she” because the first she wasn’t pretty enough, caring enough, woman enough…

And on and on it went.

My place in this world became something I wasn’t handed but had to fight for. My spot as an equal partner in a marriage is contested because “he” must always be the head. I have no particular issue with this except that this translates for many as subservience and not submission. Like a soldier to his platoon leader – both fighting the same war and not on opposing sides, that’s what I get it to be, but that’s not what it often is.

If I give myself to one man and make the wrong choice in choosing him, that will be the end of me. With one word, I will be signing over my everything to the best man in the world, the worst blackguard to walk the face of the planet or just some “meh” guy who isn’t much of either. I will beget his heirs and it will be my turn to raise a new generation of young women…

What will I teach them?

That it’s okay to stay in a marriage that makes you unhappy? That a man has authority over you no matter what and you have no voice, no say in the matter? That you must do what you can to be safe; are obligated to return every call, hoot and holler in your direction no matter how crass because at the drop of a hat, that man will beat the life out of you and nothing will happen to him?

I can see the lessons for what they are now. All of them.

They were meant to keep me safe in a world that was unfair to me from the start. My parents did a fine job of protecting me from the evils on the planet. I almost didn’t expect half of them. I’ve been berated for my choice to remain chaste. I’ve been called names for ignoring catcalls. I’ve received the evil eye for refusing a man’s advances and I’ve outright been slapped for trying to protect my fellow woman.

I would do it again and again but it never seems to be enough. As a woman, my enemies are the state, the religion, and my fellow humans. I am put down consistently for how I look, what I wear, where I go, what I do, how I do it, when I do it, what I eat, how I walk, who I meet, what I think… it doesn’t end. It never ends.

In the last two months, I’ve read about murders by grown men and teenage boys because their wives, girlfriends, etc. would not take their advances or their crap. It seems as though when, finally, the words we’ve been shouting are heard, we backtrack a few millennia.

Yes, there are more women in the workplace but how many are enabled and encouraged to become directors? Yes, there are more women in places of political power, but what percentage is that? Yes, more women are stepping out and stepping up to help with the income-earning, but how many men are stepping up to provide support with the work at home too? It saddens me that even as I plan for my own future, I see this one thing still plaguing me.

It’s like we’ve become a modern society of cavemen.

And it consistently grates when a man thinks he shouldn’t treat a woman kindly because “she wanted equality, didn’t she?” It doesn’t mean you don’t have to hold a door open for her or even show her a modicum of respect. Equality is not an excuse for outright rudeness. In the same way, gender is not an excuse for out and out callous behaviour. Abuse is still a crime. Assault is still a crime. Unfaithfulness is still wrong.

A woman can thrive with or without a man. It is no longer a necessity and doesn’t have to be the case, even though it can be. I feel that, by this point, whether being a woman in this society requires a complete mental shift to what is truly important; to the continued existence of herself and her offspring, and the society with great regard for her own safety.

The woman’s “place” in our world has changed.

There are stronger women out there I can emulate. I can work harder and longer because they did. I can fight harder and be stronger because they have and they are. I can be what I want because they dared to try. I have so much hope for the future of the woman and I hope, sincerely hope that it’s a brighter one than this.