I love being a woman. Female friendships, self-expression and self-love universally encompass my love of femininity. From three women composing a singular text, to dancing in sausage dog tights and learning my self worth, girlhood is an integral part of my identity. However, it’s paramount to avoid perceiving female identity through rose-tinted glasses. For instance, I adore wearing cropped tops, an act of self love towards my pear shaped curves. However, such self-expression almost always warrants unwanted stares, cat-calls and winks from men. Likewise, emotive passion towards a particular subject is labelled ‘over-dramatic’ or accusations of ‘your time of the month’. Within both the community of Karma! and my writing generally, inclusivity and empowerment of women remains a core value. Therefore, I am grateful for the ongoing opportunity to platform my writing, raising awareness of female experience and sexism.
In my experience, there is nothing more enjoyable, than finding true female friends. Shared times, eating ice cream, taking polaroids, asking tarot cards if your ex ever thinks about you, remain incomparable. The joy of girlhood is unmatched. My female friends have shaped my identity, healing hearts they didn’t break, with pink hair dye and three hour phone calls. A ‘Hey, fancy an ice cream? xxx’ text evolving into an entire afternoon of voting for our favourite Sanrio characters, accompanied by lengthy discussions of our early, developing careers. Three curly haired best friends, drafting a singular text, one line each. Laughing, crying, hugging and eating our way through our early twenties, nostalgic memories I revisit, often.
However, as much as I love my female friendships, the realism of being a woman often overshadows shared joy. From constantly sharing our locations, to steering clear of isolated walks, in addition to avoiding unwanted cat-calls, I sometimes resent how my gender correlates with extra everyday safety precautions. We crave the light nights, not only to fulfil our love of sunshine, but because our freedom to exist more safely is extended. Small joys like walking to an evening job with reduced fear of not making it home, feels celebratory. I love being a woman, but I wish acts of daily functionality, wouldn’t have an increased danger risk, simply due to my gender.
Personally, I love self expression via my appearance. After years of struggling to be true to my authentic style, I have finally found a friend in fashion. From threading bows through my plaits, to dancing in sunflower skirts with a pink fringe, I wish to be perceived through my fashion choices: vibrant, feminine and creative. One of the true joys of girlhood is compliments: from admiring floral tattoos, to flagging someone down in the street purely to enquire where their dinosaur print dress is from. In addition, I’ve had women kindly (yet discreetly) whisper I’ve got lipstick on my teeth, offer to braid my hair in a new way and share water when I’ve experienced social suicide, disguised as a mid-lecture coughing fit. The way in which I have personally experienced women supporting other women, makes me proud to be female.
Nevertheless, I recently embraced the rarity of British sunshine, wearing a cropped t-shirt and gingham print shorts. Almost instantaneously, I was inappropriately stared at, by at least three different men, on three separate occasions. When discussing how intimidated the stares made me feel, I was reminded how normalised and regular such behaviour is perceived, even by other women. Such normalisation angered me. Why should women feel forced to cover every inch of visible skin, to avoid becoming an objectified spectacle of the male gaze? Catcalling, winks and inappropriate looks are never normal, they have just become normalised. I love being a woman, but I wish I didn’t have to consciously evaluate my fashion choices, in order to reduce unwanted attention.
Why is female passion towards specific subjects perceived as ‘overly dramatic’ or curates accusations of ‘your time of the month’? In my final year of university, I found myself defending several victims of revenge pornography, as my opposition claimed he was playing ‘devil’s advocate’ by claiming such women orchestrate such events, for dramatic license or publicity stunts. I remain shocked and horrified that such misogynistic views are still expressed. In that instance, my concerns were not taken seriously, both due to my gender and student status, incomparable to my opposition’s position of academic authority. Nevertheless, I am proud that I spoke up, for victims of revenge pornography, for every woman who faces misogyny and younger me, who often felt overshadowed by louder presences. Therefore, I dedicate this article to women: it’s not a man’s world while we exist.
Leave a Reply