Still, thinking about how a) I haven't visited my own blog in such a long time that my picture was still captioned "Automne," 2) I missed skiing, and d) that I've come far in the span of two years--all of this should make me happier. It does, to some extent. To another, however, it made me interested in how I've evolved.
For instance, do you know the kinds of women who feel the need to assert themselves? I was one of them. I needed everyone to know that there were unique and confusing nuances to my personality, and that I was okay with them, that I embraced them. I let everyone know that I was messy but also meticulous about not leaving dirty dishes in the sink; I only write with black pens; I don't keep best friends or secrets; I am afraid of being a bad mother.
In hopes that these quirks would ward off potentially unfit suitors, or that they would endear me to another, I broadcast them for several years. The process was exhausting. In fact, I'm sure it stopped sometime around the point when I met Jeremy, and got too tired of trying to push him away with my flaws (that conveniently doubled as positive attributes).
So why is it that as women we are compelled to define ourselves for everyone? In a lot of my single friends I'm finding this need, the compulsion to assert and maintain our identity, the "I will change for no one, I'm perfect in my imperfections?" I'm not implying that these statements are untrue or unimportant; rather, why do we need to assert them? It should be recognized by others, men and women alike, that we are unique; that we as women, vulnerable and strong, coarse but gentle, still, in the very same instant--that these are the very qualities that make us attractive. In defending these characteristics, it implies that others have waged war against our moodiness and sensitivity; our assertion that these qualities are wonderful and intact and treasured intimates that they are not perceived in this light by others.
Aesthetically, it's similar to the notion of "gaps" in language. For example, words refer to ideas that we, as readers, have implicit or explicit attitudes toward. It's these attitudes that gives the words we read meaning, whether we find them as valuable or not. When I read proclamations from women that tend to elucidate their flaws, such as "I'm messy, not perfect, and somehow that's still perfect," it's like looking at a painting without a caption; I don't know what to make of it, and it's left open for interpretation. Since our experiences are what give words/feelings meaning, I fill the gap with my own experiences. In watching women assert themselves with such force, it makes me wonder when the last time it was that I felt the need to assert myself that way in such a public forum as Facebook.
Maybe it's just me, but I feel like calling attention to one's desire to be accepted would only make your insecurities about it that much more visible, whether they are founded or unfounded. A lot of individuals who are anxious about being accepted are hypervigilant regarding acceptance in the first place: they are aware of how often they are outcast, but often disregard the times they are accepted. It's a pathology, something that stems from an event in their early developmental stages that makes them so acutely aware of being an outcast. Think of Freud: he would regard a problem in a relationship, such as something like sexual dysfunction, as a result of something that happened to the individual earlier on in life, an unconscious response to a previously experienced trauma. Maybe as children, as teenagers, some stupid boy made fun of these girls; maybe their parents weren't present; maybe they need more love, and this is what has made them call attention to their flaws and demand that they stay protected; maybe they think these "flaws" are what has kept them from being loved in the first place, and they are tired of trying to change them in order to find a mate.
Maybe others find this assertion normal; maybe it's part of maturation. It feels like evolution, though, warming clay between your hands and shaping it into something; maybe I've sculpted myself, and what I'm reacting to is just watching the process of another's becoming.
3 comments:
I react to the process too; finding frustration in other women's needs to loudly and proudly demand attention for what I think we all go through.
I think it's immaturity--that need for approval and acknowledgement that one is *changing* or *growing*.
I'm not quiet about my "damage": I write about it all the time. I discuss things with my mother, my shrinks, my closest friends, but I don't think I do it for a reaction--I do it because that is my process. I think there is a difference...
When I read this I remembered a passage from the Bible. I can't remember which book, but it's a caution to those who are fasting. It advises them not to broadcast what they are doing--not to complain of hunger or go about looking and acting weak in order to get sympathy from others. The point of a fast is to grow spiritually--a process that is meant to be only between yourself and God. I think all periods of growth are like this and that assertion is merely a sympton that one is not quite there yet...
I totally agree with what Alejandra said in the 2nd paragraph - the assertions are because the person making them is still on that soul searching path of finding themself. The further you get in this process, the less I think one makes these statements. It's definitely part of a growing process.
I agree, Ale, there's a difference between doing it because it's how you work, and doing it for attention.
Velvet, probably part of the reason you thought I was older is because I don't understand how to be young; I guess life does that sometimes.
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