In the classical sense of the word, a feminist is someone who supports equal rights for women. Sometimes I feel that as a feminist, we also shouldn't exhibit certain lady like qualities. We should be tough. We should be strong.
Which I do, for the most part.
My lifestyle is a vow of feminist support in itself: I'm a mother. I'm a working mother. I'm an educated working mother. But, I cook. I clean. I change diapers. I am not above the work load of a pre-feminist era housewife nor am I excluded from the demands of a working woman. In fact, I have to balance both of these, which shouldn't be so bad, except I am also subjected to the daunting tasks of maintaining my composure, making sure I have a smile on my face at all times and above all, not come across as a bitch.
I shouldn't cry (because what will your daughter think) when I feel sad nor should I yell when I feel angry (you don't want to teach her that screaming is the answer). I shouldn't feel worried when someone is sick; I shouldn't get hysterical if I am feeling paranoid. I shouldn't get mad. I shouldn't frown.
I shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't.
I can't begin to count the many times I have been told (in a condescending manner) that I am acting like a woman. And in all of those instances, it was a time when I was showing my feelings in one way or another.
I also can't begin to tell you how many times I've heard men be criticized because they are acting "like a girl". Again, in all of those instances it was because they were putting their feelings on display.
But this isn't about the men, it's about us. You. Me. WOMEN.
A short few weeks ago I had the displeasure of watching our family pet go through some very serious medical changes. Sudden abrupt changes often leave me uneasy, but not knowing what is wrong just leaves me in a whirlpool of despair. I found myself crying. A LOT. And often, in front of my daughter. Every time this happened, almost every single person around me chastised me.
"Stop crying in front of the kid. You will make her upset."
At first, I would agree and try to magically alter my face from a crying one to a smiling one.
It wasn't pretty. Not only that, it wasn't happening either. My daughter is smarter than we give her credit for. Most kids are. And so, as she watched my swollen red eyes and she listened to my quivering voice saying "I am okay", I knew that she saw right through my lies.
That's when I remembered a few months back, my daughter was watching the heart-wrenching scene of when Dumbo's mom is locked up in jail and she is cradling Dumbo through her jail cell. I looked over lovingly at my daughter, choking back tears of my own and expecting her to understand that it was just a movie. What I saw instead, rattled me to the core. She was acknowledging SOME type of feeling, although to a two and a half year old, it was a new and unexpected feeling. She turned to me, as if there were blame in her eyes and she just did not know what to do with herself (or her feelings). So as I ran over to give her a hug and tell her not to cry, she bit me. The first and only time in her toddler life that she had reacted that way. I didn't scold her. I just let her act out. And then, I let her cry. A good, deep from within her stomach cry.
As I flashed back to her eyes, now watching my own crying fit, I made a decision. I decided I didn't want to lie anymore. I didn't want my daughter to think I didn't value her as an intelligent, perceptible being first and foremost. didn't want her second guessing her analysis of the situation leading her to believe that she is not a good judge of character. Secondly, I didn't want her to think that what I was doing was bad. Thirdly, and most important of all, I wanted to explain to her that it was okay to feel emotions and understand why she felt those emotions.
I wanted her to know. Crying is not bad. It's GOOD. Very good.
Ask the millions of girls who spend a good chunk of their time crying into their mirror during their angst filled teenage years. Go ahead. I guarantee at least two women in your life have done this at one point or another. And it's okay. Because it's cathartic. And we can see that even in this moment when we are feeling SO BAD, we can still look so beautiful. Because there is nothing more beautiful then putting your emotions on display, whatever they may be.
So, I took my daughter in my arms and told her how our beloved dog Chloe had suddenly lost her eyesight. I explained that I was sad because she could no longer see and that there might be something making her very sick. I told her that this was the reason why I was crying. My daughter looked into my eyes, as if she understood everything I said. And then, she hugged me. When we pulled away from the hug, she said, "mama, I don't want you to cry. I want you to be all the time happy."
I will be happy. But right now, a good cry is okay too.
No comments:
Post a Comment