Internalised Misogyny – and the walking t-shirt

I don’t know a woman who isn’t struggling with their body. I also don’t know two who are struggling for the same reason, either. I don’t wish to insinuate that all humans aren’t struggling with their bodies right now, or all the time for that matter. But they say write what you know, and I have a female body I don’t really understand, but I can get to grips with it more than a male body. Not that I haven’t gripped some excellent male bodies in my time (lads, lads, lads) am I right?

To list just a few of those issues, within the closest women to me in my life, I have an expectant mother who has gained 3 stone and is struggling to reconcile the love for the unborn baby with the hatred of her body. I have a mother of two who has just had a boob-job, that she touted as “reclaiming” her body. I know a woman who I work with who uses the ubiquitous video calls we’re all on to pull her face apart (not literally, kids) and plan the next Botox session, or the latest age-defying facial. I have a friend who’s put weight on over the last year, and is so worried she can’t bring her body back under control, that she is paying for Botox and lip fillers, for instant control over her face, at least. Two female colleagues in the last 6mths have joined calls at work, while on a treadmill or exercise bike, dismayed at the impact of the last, hard, year on their bodies.

I’m not immune, my eyebrows are tattooed on, my lips are soon to follow. I have modified my body too, with tattoos, dye and the newest edition to the temple of me, a shiny silver nose ring. Some of that is a reaction to the frustrating stasis of life recently, forcing change where there is none naturally, and some of it is to cover areas I dislike with things I love. However you slice it, it’s safe to say 100% of the women I know and love, do not love their bodies.

Hardly breaking news I hear you cry. We all know the impact that media and society has had on the psyche of women, and how we are making efforts to slow the machine, but it’s a drop in an overwhelming ocean. I don’t want to, nor do I need to rehash that area, there are smarter, better informed people than me doing that already. We know the terms patriarchy and toxic masculinity, fuck them, right? Yeah fuck them, but let’s fuck up some toxic femininity while we’re at it. That’s what I bought the t-shirt for. I’d also like to add here, that I am really, really not trying to make a complex problem, another thing that women should be blamed for. I want to understand toxic femininity as a product of, and servant for the patriarchy. Phew, that’s safer ground isn’t it, sorry for the interruption, direct that anger back at the dudes, my friend and on we go..

One of the most underrated evils of living in a patriarchal society, in my splendid opinion, is what it has made women think of other women. You’ve heard the phrase “divide and conquer”, would you apply that to the playbook of patriarchs? Because I do. Want to know the first thought that crossed my mind when my friend said she was having a boob job? I thought that I hoped she didn’t get bigger ones than me, because that had always been something I had on her. She is an insanely beautiful, educated and capable woman, but she always envied my boobs. My poor friend of lip filler fame, frantically waved her hands at me when explaining what she’d spent her birthday money on, pleading “please don’t judge me, don’t judge me!”

I know what you’re thinking.

Dear author, you’re the common denominator here, you’re the one in some stupid competition with other women, and you’re trying to blame the blokes. Maybe you’re just not a nice person…

That’s fair, partially. I am a product of the society I live in though, and I have been brought up to consider other women as competition. Hell, I took equality so far, I branded everyone competition in my life, joke is on me! But I also won’t do those women around me a disservice by calling them out, here, on the times I’ve seen them do this to me or other women. I’m taking that bullet for the girls here. I’m happy to show you the nasty parts of my nature I possess, to make this point. We are all in competition with each other.

So, how do you create competition?

You define things that must be obtained (attention, a great job, a great car, admiration) and you don’t provide enough of it for everyone to have it. Simple. Even simpler, you can create the illusion of a shortage. You only have to see people on the TV lamenting their lack of toilet paper, to see those, with plenty in at home, stocking up on loo roll in the background of scaremongering news reports!

So a patriarchal society tells women they must have a man, a family, a job, be fit, be attractive or no man will want you, and convinced us that the only thing in our path to these things, is not systemic sexism at every level of society, no, it’s *gasp* OTHER WOMEN.

I’ve talked about it before, it’s easier to have two women fight each other for a position on a board/senior role, than have them start challenging the men for theirs. And I see this in the pained faces of all of my female friends who hate their bodies.

They fight age, and weight gain because women aren’t allowed to do that. They worry that other women being more attractive than them, will damage their chances, because that’s about all we seem to be judged on. We’re too busy fighting each other, we’re too exhausted to fight on the front that really matters.

I want my friends to know I don’t want to compete with them anymore. In the same way I don’t want to be seen as competition. I am trying to change my body in ways I like, that subvert the traditional expectations of making myself more beautiful. It calms my inner critic when I see someone looking at my body, to think – that’ll be the piercings, blue hair and tattoos that have caught their attention. Not my weight, expressions of wealth, traditional beauty standards or the fact I’m a grown woman eating a Wham bar in public. That’s the only thing that insecure little goblin believes, having angrily dismissed my first attempt at placating it by saying “well maybe they’re looking cause I’m pretty?” with an angry flick of a goblin-hand.

I, this little drop, in this vast ocean, am fighting for you, not against you. I want more space for you, for me, for us. I want to unite and overthrow. That starts with redressing my instincts to compete with you. It starts with us turning the war outwards and refusing to wage conflict on our very bodies. It starts with telling you that you are a goddess, I only roll with goddesses, and the only fault you have is believing a society that says you’re not.