a woman's worth

how women have been taught to be “strong” “doing-it-all” women in a society that leaves little room for feminine softness — and what to do about it

A woman started pantomiming to her male friend what seemed like a funny event at the cafe I was working from last week. I was in the middle of taking shameless selfies for Instagram stories while waiting for some videos to upload onto an online training I am working on.

I caught her act from the corner of my eye and couldn’t help but watch and she must have caught me because she turned and said, “I was just telling my friend about my grandmother’s funeral” holding her handbag dramatically in one hand as if about to throw it across the cafe.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I replied, embarrassed that I must have misread the situation entirely.

“No, it’s funny!” she countered, walking across the room, handbag in hand to act out what happened.

Loudly, she started.

“We were at the beach, after the cremation. And my mother had the bag with her mother’s ashes in her hand.” she gestured at her handbag and started swinging it walking along in demonstration. “And she started sprinkling the ashes down the beach like one long line of cocaine. Nobody stopped her. No one batted an eye. I wanted to suggest that she might want to maybe just dig a little hole, pour the ashes in and cover them with some rocks. But no. She had to make a big scene of it.”

The woman started cackling. “I might turn it into a comedy skit! My grandmother was batty, my mother is batty, and I’m batty. It’s runs through us women.”

“Everyone expresses grief differently.” I giggled nervously, thinking it wasn’t as funny as she seemed to think it was. I guess you had to be there to fully appreciate it.

I thought about that scene for days afterwards.

About how strong this woman was in the face of life’s deepest grief. About the way she masked her pain with comedy. About how women have been taught to be “strong” “doing-it-all” women in a society that leaves little room for feminine softness.

I took these thoughts into a conversation on Instagram, asking:

“Specifically, where or how do you struggle with fully expressing your femininity? And how do you wish your experience of femininity was different for you?”

Answers quickly came flooding in.

• Accepting help. I have a strong urge to prove I am stronger or more capable than a man.

• Having to be guarded all the time just to exist in the world safely as a woman.

• With clothing and how I dress which also impacts the way I move and flow.

• Finding the balance between being open, inviting, and receiving versus complying with a form in terms of boundaries and being closed off.

• I have inner self-confidence but do not know how to show it on the outside and in my behaviour.

• In my relationships with other women.

• I wish it was lauded more. Witnessed as safe more. Less performative.

• I often confuse being ‘girly’ with being ‘feminine’. Because I’m not girly, I feel I’m not feminine.

• Fashion and makeup. I struggle to express my ‘inner lioness’ through my style.

Femininity, and the expression of, have to do with essence and self-trust. The rest is simply an extension of those. A woman who is connected to herself in this way follows the pulse.