This is what we are

The misery of us countless women is perhaps a result of our inheritance of a social conditioning powered since the early ages by a dominantly patriarchal society. We have been shown our right place in the world – a man’s better half, other half, or whatever is convenient at any given point. It’s always about the half, the accessory, never whole. What is whole? Even that stands defined by the stereotypes. Over centuries across cultures, women have been seduced into cherishing and chasing “incompleteness.” Consequently, we happen to patronise a flourishing industry that churns out feminist motivation through self-helps with curated images laced with cosmetics, cookery and workouts, slogging to fill our hollowness.

We have been schooled that we must look desirable and pretty to be accepted by the other sex. Looks mean everything. Let’s face it, our primary role is to please and be an object of desire. Period. In the Indian culture, Goddesses with big breasts, rosy cheeks, long hair and heavy hips are to me the epitome of ultimate male sexual fantasy. Yet we throng to temples dedicated to such figures without anybody ever finding it offensive. We say it is our sacred tradition. Centuries of polarised conditioning has solidified and become the core gender identity of girls and women around the world, not just in India. As soon as a child turns 10 or 12, she starts picking up cues from her environment and begins the precarious journey of moulding herself to fit in. Dressing up, applying make-up to look pretty, believing that red or pink lips are more desirable and being fat is awful. Nobody has to tell her, she picks up these ideas automatically from her environment. She is impressionable and vulnerable and wants to be accepted by her friends. Gradually, she begins to experience “pain” when she discovers the gap between what she is and what she would like to be. The plastic surgery and cosmetic industry are blatant testimony to the fact that we should not accept ourselves as we are. In fact it is the opposite. We should strive to change ourselves for the better all the time. What is “better”? Who defines it? We don’t have time to question that. We neglect to look at what we are and inflict torture both physical and psychological on ourselves in trying to become what we have been told we should become. More beautiful, more positive, more loving, more successful at home and work, a better mother, a better boss, a better friend. We must be selfless. We must serve and satisfy men and their social networks (which also include women) by hook or by crook. Because we need the leash of patriarchal security if we want a life of dignity. Otherwise it is too dangerous out there. Fear of disapproval and rejection drives us to do what we end up doing. It is our controller and we are trapped. 

Women across different cultures continue to collectively fuel deep insecurities and keep them going in our communities. We inflict the same suffering on our sisters, girlfriends, mothers and daughters, of which we have been victims. Anybody who doesn’t fall in line is scorned and forced into submission or trashed as a rebel. In many ways a rebel is not too different from the one who conforms. The rebel takes pride in breaking away from norms and forming their own ideology, which mostly is another side of the same coin. They will be uneasy if their ideals are questioned, just how a believer will be outraged if their faith in God is questioned. It is a bloody clash between what is real in us versus what we have been told. The net result is, we have succumbed to the hypocrisy of a society that has no regard for the well-being of individuals yet preaches greater good. 

If the social value system really worked, why do we still struggle? Because it doesn’t, we keep shopping and reading and seeking advice from others. All the popular feminist movements, irrespective of their country of origin, have only managed to repackage the old framework into a set of new goals, identities and modern ideas of perfection. That has done nothing to relieve women of the pressure to be and become. Whatever little rebellion they stir up from time-to-time is like a small sandstorm in an endless desert. Things settle down quickly and the status quo continues. 

The vicious cycle of unfulfillment has created in us an ever-increasing appetite for pleasure and entertainment. We are easily bored and rarely satisfied. Men are not free from this onslaught. They are equally burdened. How can they not be? Men and women cohabit the social space and influence and affect each other deeply. Whatever we impose on the other eventually comes back to bother us. We keep acting and reacting within the same old predefined framework of roles in relationships, trying to dominate and change each other. Living has become a tangled mess. And we are addicted to misery like the drug addict, who despite knowing heroin is harmful, cannot give it up. We are scared to ask ourselves: “Why do we want what we want?” We don’t seem to be able to reflect on the nature of the demands that drive us and shape our intentions. It is acutely difficult for us to come to terms with our own delusions and to realise that we suffer from enormous self-pity. 

What can we do to free ourselves not from anyone but from our own image of what we should be? Who can answer this for us? Nobody. Charity begins at home. It is a personal discovery. It is not about sisterhood or greater good.