I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of always feeling like I’m too much and not enough.
I’ve been criticized and bullied because I’ve dared to stand up to obstinate people; because I speak up in the face of unfair disparagement, ridicule, and disrespect; because of the way I look and dress; because I pour my heart, soul, and time into the people, the work, the issues, the activities I’m passionate about. I have been branded as confrontational and an “attention seeker” by exhibiting the same behaviors that lead my male peers to be described as assertive and ambitious. I’ve been sexually assaulted by someone who not only outright condemned this type of behavior but who claimed to respect me and value my friendship. I’ve been compared to a McDonald’s combo because no matter how much you want to ditch the fries, you can only replace them, so there is always something you don’t want or need if you get the combo. I have had my ideas dismissed, only to be praised when repeated by a male colleague. I’ve been told my strength, intelligence, and defiance are both the reasons I’m liked and the reasons I couldn’t be loved. I’ve been asked to respond with gratitude to unsolicited advances and unwanted advice and comments on my appearance and personal life. I’ve been called:
too perfect, too broken
too attached, too independent
too smart, too dumb
too fat, too skinny
too enthusiastic, too apathetic
too confident, too insecure
too emotional, too indifferent
too awkward, too graceful
too shameless, too demure
too interesting, too dull
too gregarious, too reclusive
too opinionated, too taciturn
too ambitious, too content
too bossy, too obedient
too kind, too rude
too demanding, too consenting
I’ve spent far too much time trying to prove my value, taming my wildness, sacrificing who I am for who others think I should be, playing small for someone else’s comfort. I’ve blamed myself for other people’s shortcomings. I’ve made excuses for others’ inexcusable behavior towards me. I’ve been convinced this is my fault, that there is a version of myself that isn’t too much, a version that is exactly enough; I just need to work harder, do more, in order to become her. I’ve tried a thousand masks to be liked, respected, wanted, needed, and invisible all at the same time.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying I’m perfect. Believe me, I judge myself pretty harshly; I’m aware of my many many flaws; I’ve made countless mistakes throughout my life; I hurt people I love; I hold myself accountable; I take responsibility for my poor decisions and missteps. I don’t want your pity or your praise. I want change. You see, these are not isolated incidents, I’m not the only one. I mean, how could I be? In a world that teaches women to pretend, to be afraid of themselves, to privilege men’s desires and needs over their safety and security, to severely judge themselves and each other but make excuses for men’s indiscretions, to define themselves by their looks, their bodies, and sexual appeal, to see themselves through the eyes of men, to regard sexual innuendoes and jokes as harmless fun.
In a society that demeans women, treating them as less valuable than men; that excludes them from public and private decision-making and leadership roles and educational opportunities; that objectifies and hypersexualises women to the point of dehumanization; that pays them less than men for the same work; that calls victims of sexual harassment and assault liars, hyperbolic, feminazis and ridicules and stigmatizes them; that portrays them as less knowledgeable and less logical than men; that labels them as frigid, uptight and prudish when they refuse to engage in sexual activity, but refers to them as sluts and whores when they embrace and explore their sexuality; that creates a hostile environment where women are continuously pitted against each other; that praises men for their strength, intelligence, and humor, and women primarily for their aesthetics; that requires women to accept the blame and receive men’s disappointment, pain, and rage; that expects men to strive to be decent, and women to strive to be perfect, that casts women as complainers who seek special favors to success in the labor market, that makes women afraid of showing skin, drinking too much, and walking alone at night, that places most of the burden of childcare and housework on women.
In a misogynistic and patriarchal culture that creates and prevails the systems that allow men to literally get away with murder -particularly femicide; the reputation of survivors of abuse, assault, or rape to be destroyed, and that of the attackers to emerge virtually unscathed; mothers to be less likely employed compared to fathers and women without children; girls to be married off by their guardian; women and girls to be disproportionate victims of human trafficking and genital mutilation; politics of control over female reproductive rights; exclusion or limitation of women’s advancement in the workplace and justification for gender income inequality; commonplace sexual objectification of women in advertising; lower enrollment and graduation rates of women.
Tell me social and cultural norms don’t foster behaviors that perpetuate inequalities. Tell me the continuous exposure to forms of gender-based discrimination, whether perceived or not, doesn’t affect an individual’s sense of self and behavior. Tell me navigating the social gender-related pressure placed upon you, whether you are a man or a woman, has never left you feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, insecure, worthless, powerless, confused, or ashamed. Tell me why we have taken to see this as an unquestioned part of the experience of men and women all over the world from birth to death.
I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of covering my scars. I’m tired of holding myself back to make other’s feel secure. I’m tired of subscribing to the socially accepted version of myself. I’m tired of making concessions and compromising my needs in this unattainable quest. I’m tired of always feeling like I’m too much and not enough. Aren’t you tired also?
Yes, my experience as a woman hasn’t cost me my life yet, but what about the 137 women across the world that are killed every day by a partner or member of their family? What about the women that came before me, who were killed fighting for human rights? To honor their legacy and that of victims of inexcusable acts that violate their human dignity. For the girls that are yet to be born and the women and girls like me who’ve been sexually assaulted and harassed, who’ve been dismissed, discredited or undermined, who’ve had to work thrice as hard as a man to be given half the credit, who’ve felt like nothing they do is good enough, who struggle every day to disassociate themselves from the sexism they’ve internalized. I’m done. I probably won’t see gender parity in my lifetime. Still, if somehow I can help reach that goal faster, if I can prevent a single girl from going through any of what I’ve been through, what my contemporaries and predecessors have experienced, I’m ready to fight like hell for as long as I live. How about you?
