Writing about rights...

An acquaintance once called me “every feminist's nightmare”.

I was confused; whether I should be relieved or insulted - because,

(a) I wasn't sure that feminism was even a good word and

(b) I am all about fighting for my rights and the rightful place for women even though I wouldn’t call myself an activist.

The dictionary says Feminism is: 1. the theory of the political, economic and social equality of the sexes and; 2. organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests.

Now, all I ever wanted, (mind you, my all I ever wanted changes in each context and I refuse to explain this further) was to be free - as a human being - to pursue my dreams, to my heart’s content. The fact that my dreams shift and evolve and change over time as my experiences in life and interests do so too, and the fact that all I ever wanted 10 years ago, isn’t all I ever wanted 2 minutes ago, is not at all relevant.

A couple of weeks ago, I found a French video post titled Majorité Opprimée (Oppressed Majority), by Eleonore Pourriat (I’ve shared the link below) on Youtube. Somehow, this was like a kick in the gut for me, and the video, sort of brought my whole idea of feminism crashing down. I realized that feminism or this fighting wasn’t entirely what I thought it to be… Somehow, it’s lesser about rights and more about a power balance.

Feminism has long been associated with or referred to as ‘Man-hating’ and I’ve given this a bit of thought.

Being a heterosexual woman, I constantly find myself being attracted to men who come across as ‘tough’ or ‘strong’ and I find it difficult to connect with a guy who gives off a ‘helpless’ or ‘weak’ vibe… My main reason, I think, is that I feel safer with the prior than the latter. However, as a woman in a man dominated society, I usually don’t allow (or fight against it like a bi*ch when I can’t prevent it) my family or friends - especially the male ones - to be protective of me because I think they have the nasty habit of going overboard to the point of becoming controlling. And I don’t do very well being controlled.

Scratch that, I do terrible – hissing, spitting-fire, claws-extended, kind of terrible – when being controlled!

So most males I associate with think I’m scorning their manliness, when what I’m really trying to communicate is, “Look buddy - I appreciate your concern - but I got this under control, so back off before it gets ugly.” In my defense, I do call for help when I genuinely need it and I say "please" and "thank you" when I do. It really doesn’t mean I’m asking for my right to freedom as a woman – it means I have a right to freedom, period.

The bottom line is, I don’t allow people in general to assume they can, or have a right to control me: my actions, thoughts, the way I dress, the way I talk, what I talk about and - of course, we can’t forget - my attitude. However, in a partner - definitely a man - I look for someone who is in control (and that is what I want, you can feel differently about this)…

So, can I be a Man-Loving feminist?

Why not?

When I say a man in control, I’m thinking man who’s got his act together – not a man in control of me. He knows what he’s doing and where he’s going not only with himself, but also with me, and he’s not so insecure that he feels the need to change me in order to for the relationship to work. He’ll know it’s something both of us will work on together, adapting, compromising, and growing in that space.

So, back to what feminism is or is not to me. I think feminism is only one aspect of what some people call “the pursuit of happiness”. In the end, it’s not really about women. It’s about all who are oppressed or suffer discrimination of one form or the other. Man over Woman; White over Black; Straight over Gay; Majority over Minority… Each and every day, we see this, all around us. One group deciding what is ok or not ok for the other to do, because, they are superior. There’s a power struggle. Take that power away from the former and give it to the latter in each case, you know very well, nothing – absolutely nothing – is going to change. The world will not be a prettier place. Well, maybe, we’ll see guys wearing skirts for a change – who knows...

But real happiness, happiness shared, is when everyone, regardless of their various demographics, can find acceptance for who they are – without having to fight for it. After all, aren’t we all a little bit different from everyone else, yet so much alike in our need for recognition and even more, our need to be happy?

To see Majorité Opprimée (Oppressed Majority), by Eleonore Pourriat go to >>>

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4UWxlVvT1A 

"Bi*ch!"? Please...

"Bitch!" he spat at her as they scuffled. “Disrespectful bitch!”

           

"Bitch?"

The abuse didn't hurt the way she expected it to. 

Instead, she felt curious. "Bitch?" she asked - not out loud - lost far in her reflections to be bothered with him or to resume their little fight.

‘Why - the nerve!! What right does he have to talk to me like that?’

‘Is it that HE is my: Father? Husband? Brother? Friend? Boyfriend?’

She sat now… “How many times,” she thought, “how many times, have you insulted any man in your life this way?”

Try as she may, she failed to recall a single time where she had been able to gather her wits about her, to scream, any kind of ‘bitch!’ at anyone. Any man; any woman…

This was her first head-on collision with the term. Of course, she was familiar with other uses of the word… Who was that girlfriend of hers, who always used it as a term of ‘endearment’? And it was such a useful adjective - when you talk about that person at work, that you really don’t like, who’s being a pain to you and everyone in general. Yeah, on occasion, she had screamed the word internally.

But really, to have that word hurled at you, by someone important to you, knowing that it will never go away - in your head it’ll be there - coming at you over and over again…

That was something to worry about later though.

The moment of the ‘bitch’ passed... She wondered, turning to the mirror, if he had busted her lip... Nothing - her face was fine.

And she realized, for the first time, that it hadn’t hurt either - when he hit her - and he had hit her hard. 

She hadn't really thought about it - about why she stepped up in front of the other woman. The move had been natural reflex - a primal urge to protect.

She was adamant!

How dare anyone - anyone - assume, that a penis was license for violence and domination over a female! She knew her anger was not just a thing of this moment but more a reaction to a lifetime of ‘vaginal’ memories, and these have nothing to do with sex - yet…

She had taunted him in her anger. “Come on. Hit me! You think you’re always right. Why don’t you just hit me? Go on. Take a punch…”

It hadn’t hurt. Someone who she loved had struck her - and she had just stood there, taking blow after blow. “Is that your best?” She’d asked.

There had been a wild look in her eyes… a bewildered look in his. She had scared him. He might have realized that he didn’t know her anymore. Her head was held too high, for someone who seemed to have nothing. For someone who depended on him in many ways still. Yet, she refused to back down and fire in her eyes, she faced him. "No matter what you are to me, you are still wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!"

She didn’t feel like a hero though… Her temper was a double edged sword… On one side, it was the driving force of her life and on the other hand, a destructive force… This relationship, for instance, looked like it was going down. For neither of them knew or understood ‘surrender’.

She wished now, that he had at least left a mark. Something that reminded her that it should’ve hurt. That she still loved him, as much as she thought she did. 

She cried then, because it didn’t hurt - because she couldn't afford to let it hurt, with too much at stake; her beliefs & ideals and the people she strove to protect - and she couldn’t think of anything more painful than that…

My Love - an illusion...

(You remember it was her... She was the one who started it - every single time...)

She says, “Let’s go out - somewhere nice.”

He says, “No”

“Why not?” She pleads.

“I can’t”

“The kids want to go.” She tries a different approach.

“So, why don’t you take them and go then?”

“We can’t go without you!”

“Why? I don’t want to go. You go ahead.”

“It’s our day off... The kids don’t have school... We don’t always get chances like this...”

“Yes,” he says, “It’s my day off, I've been running around all week, I’m tired, I don’t want to go!”

You can see the tears. You know they are for him. You can see she’s hurting.

But you don’t know what you can do to make it better.

You know he’s tired. You understand.

He’s making money, saving for his children; so that they don’t suffer like him - so that they don’t have to struggle.

He forgets that she’s been working too; bringing home her pay, so that he can save it for them.

And doing the laundry, cooking, checking the kids’ homework – she did that too...                       

He forgets (or ignores the fact) he is married to her – they promised to walk this path holding each others’ hands – they are in this together.

When did she stop being his wife and become the mother of his children? Why?

So what if love is not forever and honeymoons do come to an end?

What do you make of the person that you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with and of the promise you made?

Deep inside, you know (you hope) that he loves her still.

You make excuses for him - he just doesn't know it. He lost touch with that part of him along the way; the part with which he shared his dreams with her, told her funny stories and yes, even convinced her to marry him. You know it was him who did that. It was his idea. “Marry me”, he’d said.

And her? What about her? You know she's still in love with that guy who she met - and married - those many years ago... 

You stand there looking at them facing off and you know. You realize...

***

Have you ever seen parents make a vow to their child? “...to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ’til death do us part...”?

No? I haven’t either. But I've seen weddings; many of them. Actually, my friends are going to be upset when they hear this, but I hate weddings... I’m bored to death by them, most of the time. If possible, I avoid them like the plague.

Anyway, with weddings, come the promises...

Do we humans find it so much harder to keep the promises that we didn't make and that much easier break the ones we did?

What happened to unconditional love? Is that only for your children? Or is that too, just an illusion?

 “So what do you realize now?” you’ll ask me, “That love is just an illusion?”

“No.” I’ll say 

No... Love, is not an illusion.

Our definition of it is. 

Love does exist. It’s very real. Like the snow-storm in Maryland last night, the heavy rain in Muscat and the dry weather in Colombo. It’s just in different forms and phases of existence each time you see it.

You need to understand “Love” to really enjoy it and there are two things you absolutely must know.

One: that the part of your heart that you love with, is like a battery – with a separate cell for each person - that needs to be charged regularly. If you let it die and leave it without recharging (manufacturer’s note: each cell should be charged separately), it’ll be hard to revive again – sometimes, impossible. Thank the deities that created our hearts, that there are an infinite number of cells within, whether you were aware of it or not, so you never really run out of space...

Two: as you go on, the person you love – and yourself – are constantly changing, evolving. Your dreams and aspirations, your lifestyle, desires - everything is in a state of perpetual change. So if you go on loving the person you first met, one day, you’re going to wake up and find out, that what you have loved all these years, is the memory of a person long since dead and you have absolutely no clue as to who the stranger sitting next to you is! So you need to keep updating the image of the "person" you love, in that cell you keep for them. 

What? No one said it was going to be easy!

***

You realize...

They’re not alone in this - being ignorant of “Love”

They didn't take the time to hold hands in the journey in between then and now. Too busy taking the kids to school and working their asses of making money - money that will never last - ironically, money that has no value...

They didn't see the changes when they came. May be it was the sex. Or was it the long working hours? Was it that they lost touch with certain friends of a bygone era and then, life was never the same again? Of course the kids were to blame too. Bet they didn't realize that.

So they didn't take the time to love again - try not to limit love to the shadows of the past - you need to remember the past, so that you know why it’s worth loving again.

So many lost souls traverse the earth every day, not knowing, ignorant of the true qualities of Love.

You want to scream at them, “If you can understand what water vapour and snow and a gurgling stream have in common, why can’t you understand Love???”

“It’s always there, like the phases of water; in and around us, in its many forms and phases - that you might not be able to see and feel all the time! You just got to believe...”

***

P.S. – a little advice to lots of my friends who are new parents and the ones in the making – please hold hands while you watch your kids growing up. Sometimes it’s hard to do that, what with the big one going for Cricket practices and the little one going through a heavy metal phase and that new business you just set up. But at the end of the day, remember; kids will grow up and move out. It’s going to be just the two of you then and trust me - you do not want to be home alone with a total stranger... 

***

And in the background, I hear strains of Shania Twain's You're still the one playing on Sun FM - 98.7 Island wide...

It's 8.39 pm... Valentine's Day 2014 - a very touchy day for me, here in Colombo...

The Breaking Point

Wrote this a while back and edited it quite a bit since...

Am I getting close - close to the breaking point?

Do you think it’s finally happening to me?

I can feel it coming, taking me down.

Was it meant to be this way?

For me to be alone?
To be the last one

Standing

In this

Cold

Place..

Someday,

I’ll be gone…

Vanish into thin air.

Crumble and merge with

The soft, damp, brown earth
My absence – will it be felt?
Will there be anyone?

Anyone at all - who

Might feel lost?

Without

Me….