“Well, as shared by my poet acquaintance concluding an honest dialogue, isn’t that the core anxiety for women, the fear of being too demanding or overwhelming, which, essentially, we all dread.
Engaging in a discussion about her self-contemplation, post a potentially candid chat with her superior, and my pondering on diet regimes, she fears she may not have wisely moderated her dialogue, while I rue the years I’ve spent repressing my food-cravings and scrutinising my physique. However, on my ride home, I start to appreciate the broad relevance of her deduction and how the counter concern of being insufficient shapes the identity of men.
I am hopeful that the conditions have changed for the young women of today. For women of my time, however, a significant hurdle in our professional journey was to strike a balance between being sufficiently assertive and confident to climb the success ladder, without crossing lines and being categorised as ‘commanding’ or ‘spirited’ — in my experience, these terms have never been associated with a man. Growing up, we were taught to have the same opportunities, provided we didn’t expect that to lead to similar behaviours and self-worth. We were advised to stay indoors in the evening to prevent being a victim of male violence, notwithstanding the fact that the majority of crimes against women occur within the confines of their homes rather than on streets. We were conditioned to constantly monitor ourselves and track the male gaze on us; to pull ourselves up before someone else did.
Since my formative years, I had understood that it was taboo for women to express their hunger and that their need for food was less of a biological necessity, and more of a ‘sinful indulgence’; a petite physiques was, indeed, regarded as a result of self-restraint and discipline, and attracted more promotions and better compensation. The aggression could be counterbalanced by maintaining a dainty figure, a resolute mind by a brittle frame. Women of my generation were the first ones to outperform boys in exams, a situation that was considered problematic and led to discussions on an alleged ‘collapse of manhood.’ It never led to debates on a ‘femininity crisis’ when boys used to be the toppers.
The premise is simple, men are classified as more manly if they occupy more space; conversely, women are considered more womanly if they take up less room.
The general notion is that only working mothers, who achieve professional recognition, are guilt-tripped for ‘having it all.’
People assert that to be a writer, you must be willing to put your craft above your family. I beg to differ.
As a Brit living in Ireland, at times, I feel I might be too outspoken.”
Reflecting on the collective burden imposed on males and boys to be demonstrative, potent and authoritative, I consider how demanding it must be for a male to utter things like ‘I don’t grasp this’ or ‘I feel apprehensive’ or ‘I’m incapable’; expressions that we could all frequently benefit from conveying. One revelation as a mother of sons was the male stature hierarchy; I only fully grasped the peculiar power of a trait that isn’t within one’s control, when my adolescent sons started reaching their mature heights. Men are considered more manly if they occupy more tangible or abstract room, conversely, women are seen as more womanly if they occupy less. Binary classifications inflict harm on all, more so for those whose demeanour or body fail to conform.
Contemplating my dissent towards the recent buzz about menopause – particularly as at 49 I’m in the thick of it – evokes my instinctive revulsion towards the idea which regards the female form as inherently flawed, demanding technological fixing.
I discern that my unease stems from the way this modern narrative upholds and intensifies ‘female terror’. Numerous ‘symptoms’ that now warrant medical attention imply being excessively loud, large or overwhelming. Untreated, women may gain weight, especially around the stomach, a contentious sight for self-hate. Hair might sprout at inappropriate areas. We may cause displeasure or disgust, or become aggravated, emotional or anxious, causing inconvenience to men and children through our unbridled emotions. We may – god forbid – perceive and even vent anger, and all this without the pleasant aspects of being attractive and producing offspring. Each aspect of these concerns connects to females being too excessive, exceeding what the patriarchal system permits.
To reiterate what I’ve previously stated, I do not object to hormone replacement therapy (HRT); everyone should be entitled to conscientious, personalised healthcare, and treatment that is safe and effective if the sufferer is distressed by symptoms.
However, I’m fundamentally opposed to the notion that women should be medicated due to becoming ‘too excessive’ for the convenience and desires of others. The solution to dealing with defiant women with non-conforming bodies should not always involve suppressing and regulating them but instead allowing more room for them to grow, until the end.