I’ve decided that being/becoming an authentic woman is a full-time job. Not to say that men do not have their share of cultural roles to overcome, social norms to redefine, and expectations that can be debilitating; but becoming a woman is my role in life, and I am constantly amazed at how complex it is. As I get older, it feels like there are any number of dualistic decisions forced in my path; are you relational or career-oriented, soft-spoken or confident, gracious or firm, judgmental or open, spiritual or secular (whatever that means), organized or fun-loving? Why can’t I be all of these things – not all at once, not all the time, not everything to everybody (which is another idea that most women have to fight off), but all of these things – as much as they are me, when they fit my context, when it fits my true feelings, choices, and calling?
I came across this quote from D.H. Lawrence this week and it stuck in my head as a sharp image of what women have to fight against to be authentic: “Man is willing to accept woman as an equal, as a man in skirts, as an angel, a devil, a baby-face, a machine, an intrument, a bosom, a womb, a pair of legs, a servant, an encyclopedia, an ideal or an obscenity; the one thing he won’t accept her as is a human being, a real human being of the feminine sex.” I would add that, sadly, this rhetoric comes from many audiences – from expectations of both men and of other women. One of the most unhealthy realities that I have noticed myself fighting against is how some women sabotage or wish harm on other women as part of a culture of comparing and competition; whether its passive and in “catty” forms, or in direct and mean attacks, women should reject this message that we don’t want others to do well or succeed or “have it all.” I think its another part of the limited dualistic ideas that most women have to fight against; we are tempted to resent women who seem to cross barriers that we thought we couldn’t ourselves.
Last night Peter and I saw the new film version of “Pride and Prejudice,” and watched the heroine Elizabeth (we share names as well as some formative personality traits), struggle to incorporate her many loves for family, fun, wisdom, and independence in a reality that tried to narrowly define her into someone else. Instead of being married off to an influential cousin, cow-towing before a wealthy woman’s critiques of her upbringing, or feeling ashamed of her family when compared with the style of wealthy visitors, Elizabeth is fiercely loyal, gracious, funny, loving, forgiving, fun-loving, wise, articulate, and of course – proud. I was struck that she was rarely rude or demanding; she still adapted who she was in order to help others, be appropriate to the social context she was in, and she chose to sacrifice for family and friends repeatedly. But she also rejected some ideas forced on her from family and her cultural world, she said her opinions and stated her differences, and she was not afraid or shaped by what others expected her to be – she remained fully who she was even as she adjusted herself for others. Maybe that is the role of all of humanity; being fully who we are alongside others being fully who they are, knowing that our spoken and unsaid wants, judgments, thoughts, opinions, boundaries, wishes, regrets and actions all affect each other. For Elizabeth, being fully herself shocked many others, but made her stand out as such a beautiful person; she voraciously read, danced for hours into the early morning, enjoyed tight relationships with other women, respected and was affectionate with her father, responded to critique with wisdom, supported others, stood up for herself, and loved her flawed family. She also accepted appropriate criticism and did not hesitate to say when she was wrong, she had mis-judged Darcy, and when she was changing the limits she had put around the value of marriage. I identified with this part of the show in particular, as it reminds me of my journey (strange to some), of having to admit my unfair judgments about others, my fears about losing my identity in marriage, and my worries about the future going a certain way as no longer valid. It is scary to be wrong – and also very liberating to grow, change, mess up, and reconcile with others who you trust so that you can see who the “real you” is on the other side of it all.
Being an authentic woman is at once a very human, and almost a super-human, feat.
Amen…well said.