Tag Archives: women

The Best Time To Be A Woman

In honor of International Women’s Day earlier this month I read a neat article from The Independent about the best and worst places to be a woman.  They broke it down throughout various disciplines, education, opportunity, health care, and the like.  It was no surprise to me that Scandinavian countries ranked so high in so many areas and that Iceland was named the best place to be a woman.  (I’m part Scandinavian, after all)  It was interesting to see other places throughout the world ranked high in other areas though.  Like Rwanda being the best place to be a female politician.

So it got me thinking….  When were the best and worst times to be a woman?

Now if you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time then you know I’m something of a History Apologist.  I believe very strongly that the past was not such a bad place to live and that modern people have serious misconceptions about what conditions were like in bygone eras.  Your average modern person just assumes today is the best time has to offer.

Personally, I disagree.

Yes, there are some amazing advances that women have in the 21st century.  Healthcare, for one.  The rate of death in childbirth is lower than it has ever been.  Uniquely female chronic conditions are understood better now, without taboo, and they are able to be treated with modern techniques.  This goes for mental health issues as well as just physical ones.  Because remember, in the late 19th century hysterectomies were performed because a woman had become “hysterical” and needed to have her uterus removed to calm down.

So acute healthcare is light years better today.  But I am in the school of thought that says the day-to-day health of your average person, female or male, was actually much better at various points in history.  Prior to the 20th century people moved more, walked more, and “exercised” more as part of their daily routine.  In this regard I believe that the late 19th and early 20th centuries were healthier.  I’ve had doctors back me up on this one too, although since it was within private conversation I can’t cite it and show you an article.  But at the turn of the last century enough medical advances had been made to improve the lives of average people, food supplies were plentiful and there was variety, and general physical activity levels were higher.  Not too shabby.

Education is another important aspect adding to the quality of life of women.  Statistics show that, in America at least, 60% of students enrolled in higher education are women.  In the west women have access to education more than ever before.  Um, wait, EVER before?  Are you sure about that?

A Medieval woman teaching geometry. To men, I might add.

Actually, in the Middle Ages men and women pretty much had equal access to education.  Granted, by “equal” I mean that not a lot of people across the board had access.  The centers of education in the Medieval world, for the most part, were religious institutions.  Women were part of the religious life just as much as men.  Some of the greatest minds of the era were women, such as Hildegard of Bingen, Héloïse d’Argenteuil, and Saint Catherine of Siena.  These women were writers and leaders within their religious orders.  Their opinions were sought by even the heads of state at the time.

Speaking of the Middle Ages, depending on the kingdom or country in which they lived, in the High Middle Ages women could actually own and inherit property, run a business, and be a member of the all-powerful guilds.  All that 20th century talk about the glass ceiling and the importance of women breaking through it?  They already broke through it a thousand years ago.

Alright, the modern person says, what about sexual equality?  Historically women have been confined to the home, the bearers of children, subject to the will of their husbands.  Wife-beating was legal in the past, wasn’t it?  Women had no legal recourse, right?

Well, not exactly.  I was just reading some fantastic stuff the other day in one of my favorite history books, 1215: The Year of Magna Carta by Danny Danziger and John Gillingham.  In it the authors talk about one Medieval author, Daniel of Beccles, who stated that it was virtually impossible for women to resist their sexual appetites, especially when presented with a particularly well-endowed male.  He advised husbands to look the other way when it came to their wives’ inevitable affairs because the pleasure that the women would receive would make them happier people in the long run.

Is it just me or does that sound like a complete gender reverse of the prevailing attitude of the 19th and 20th centuries?  Furthermore, Danziger and Gillingham also point out from several Medieval sources that the undisputed scientific opinion of the time was that a woman could only conceive if she experienced pleasure in the sexual act.  Definitely not Victorian!  And finally county court records of the time show time and time again in the Middle Ages that women frequently sued men for canoodling with them then refusing to marry them.  The courts ruled in favor of the women and forced the man to marry them.  This would have had significant socio-economic implications, by the way.  And frankly, I don’t think that the modern world provides women with as much protection from being taken for a ride by a man.  Just sayin’.

I could go on and on with examples from history about how life wasn’t really all that bad for women at various other times.  It all boils down to who you were, where exactly you lived, and what you considered to be most important.  If you wanted to work and excel in your profession, then the High Middle Ages was a good place for you.  If you didn’t want to work and wanted to live a more leisurely life, being born into money in the 19th century might have been more your thing.  I personally would have avoided the entire 14th century, and if I had to be lower class I wouldn’t have wanted to live during the early Industrial Revolution.  Although if I had to live in the 17th or 18th century I think it might have been interesting and still reasonably viable as a woman to live in Colonial America.  My point is that there are so many options throughout history for a woman to live a safe, satisfying, and comfortable life.

Is this what we wanted to become?

But if you take away anything from this blog post, let it be this!  Remember, women have had extensive rights and powers at various points in history.  In the High Middle Ages they could own property, participate in business, and become highly educated just like any man could.  Fast-forward 500 or so years and suddenly women were little more than the property of their husbands or fathers, unable to inherit or vote, called whores if they exhibited any sexual appetite, with little recourse under the law if they were threatened.  Women lost what they once had!  Think about it.  Who’s to say it couldn’t happen again?  Life might be pretty good for women now, but what will our lives and rights look like in another 500 years?  In another 50 years?  Never take any right for granted.

Friends Break-Up

So yeah, this hasn’t been a good month for me so far.  Not only were there layoffs at the company I work for, I’ve been going through a slightly messy friends break-up.  It started when I wished her happy birthday and ended today when she signed off an email with “Whatever.  Have a nice life.”

I don’t think that men have friends break-ups.  I can’t imagine it at least.  A friends break-up is something that women have the market cornered on.  It’s my perception that girl friendships are totally different than guy friendships because they operate on a whole different emotional level.  I can’t imagine a guy ever exclaiming “OMG!  You’re my best friend ever!”  Conversely, I don’t think guys have quite the same level of explosion when their friendships break up.

I also wonder if part of the pyrotechnics of girl friend break-ups comes from the false assumption that we will be friends with our friends forever.  I mean, when you’re in a really good part of the story of your friendship with any given person you naturally expect that things will be this good forever and that nothing could come between you.

Yeah, right.

Many years ago, when I lived in Alabama and was going to cosmetology school, I got into a super huge argument with one of my classmates over exactly this issue.  I had been fighting with my best friend, Kristine, who in school with me.  When our classmate Markanna told me off for not being supportive of Kristine I explained to her that my friendship with Kristine might be temporary.

Friends come in and out of your life, I explained.  They appear when you need them, and when you’ve run your course together they leave your life.  Sometimes that hurts, but that’s just what happens.  For any of us there are only a very, very few friends who will be there indefinitely.  Those are the people like my grandmother’s best friend Nancy.  Towards the end of their lives Nancy had gone deaf and my grandmother, suffering from Parkinson’s, couldn’t speak.  So they would just sit on the couch together holding hands because that’s all they had left.  And it was beautiful.

Markanna got so angry with my explanation!  She argued up, down, and sideways that she and her best friend, Tiffany, would be friends forever, no matter what, and that if I was angry with Kristine I didn’t know what it was to be a friend at all.  Granted, I was angry with Kristine over something unbelievably stupid and I was probably in the wrong.  However, nine years later Kristine is still my best friend, and since she’s been dating my brother very seriously for the last four years chances are that we will be sitting on a couch together fifty years from now just holding hands.  Markanna, on the other hand, slept with Tiffany’s husband.  They’re not friends anymore.

Me and Kristine

Yep.  Friends break-ups are something we’re all going to have to go through.  I stand firmly by my statement that the majority of the friends we have in life are our best friends for only a short time and beloved acquaintances for the rest of our lives.  Only a few reach the level of family, literally or figuratively.  And only a few explode out of your life with fireworks so devastating that you might as well have broken up with your soul mate.

Those kinds of friends break-ups have happened to me twice.  All I can say is that in both cases the friend in question and I were young and stubborn and neither of us was willing to budge an inch to see the other person’s point of view.  I’m actually on friendly terms with both of those women today, although I wouldn’t say we’re close at all.

The friend who broke up with me over this past week is far, far angrier at me than I am at her.  We drifted apart, that’s all.  She moved away.  It was hard to keep in touch.  We tried and it didn’t work out.  No harm, no foul.  On my side, at least.  I don’t know how many friends break-ups she’s had in her life because when I sent her a happy birthday email she exploded at me for losing interest in her and abandoning the friendship and being selfish and … and … and.  Whew!  I didn’t know what to do except say that I was sorry she was hurt and that I failed to live up to her expectations as a friend.  I wished her well and suggested we start to get to know each other again as we are now.  That’s when I got the earful ending with “Whatever, never mind, have a nice life.”

Sigh.

She’s young.  We were all young once.  We all once thought that friendships last forever and that it’s the end of the world when people grow apart.

Of course, here I am sounding calm as a cucumber about all of this when, in fact, I have a whole other friends situation that has me screaming on the inside.  I have a friend that I am deeply afraid I’m in danger of losing.  I’m terrified that I misjudged things and that she doesn’t care for me as much as I do for her.  That’s happened to me before too.  I really don’t want to lose this friend.  Really, really, really.  Just the worry over it has reduced me to tears once already.

So in a way I understand all too well how my young ex-friend of yesterday feels.  We’re women.  The relationships in our lives are of vital importance to how we function.  We need that kind of interaction.  So it’s no surprise that we lose it when we lose it.  I can only do my best to reach out to the friend I’m afraid I’m losing, and once that best is done all I can do is take a deep breath and remember that friends come into our lives for a time and that sometimes they leave.  But no one leaves for good.  We may never see some friends again, but they will always live on in our hearts and in the wonderful memories we share.

Bridesmaids and Baggage

So last weekend I finally watched the movie Bridesmaids.  My closest girl friends have been raving about it for ages, and when I announced that it had arrived from Netflix they wanted to get together and watch it.  Once again they repeated that it was an awesome, super funny movie and I would love it.

Bridesmaids was without a doubt the most terrifying psychological horror movie I have seen in ages.  I wept profusely through most of it, trying and probably failing to hide my tears from my friends.  It hit way, WAY too close to home.  Watching Kristen Wiig play out my deepest insecurities in a worst-case scenario setting was almost too much for me to watch.

See, I have been friends-dumped by women who I thought were my eternal besties more than once.  I’ve been there.  I’ve had to stand impotently by while the friends who shared my formative years met guys, got married, and, worst of all, found other girl friends and slowly forgot about me.  It’s more painful, deeper, longer-lasting pain, than breaking up with a guy.  It makes you believe you are inherently unlovable.

Of course I know that the intensity of those emotions I felt while watching Kristen Wiig experience everything that I fear most in life are seated in my truly crappy childhood interactions with my peers.  Yeah, duh, that’s where it comes from.  Obvious.  If I hadn’t experienced the uncontrolled emptiness of losing the people who I thought were closest to me over and over and over at an early age I might have just seen Bridesmaids as a hilarious comedy instead of a tragedy.  My baggage warped my viewing of the story.

Which brings me to my point.

I am a firm believer in the concept that we can never truly escape the wounds that are inflicted in our childhoods.  Those scars, be they from petty hurts or monumental tragedy, stay with us for our entire lives and shape how we view the world.  You don’t get over them.  They stick.

I was having a conversation about this with one of my close friends who is a “newer” friend (about three years) and she strongly disagreed with me.  I was surprised.  She was passionate about the fact that no, what happened to you in your childhood is in the past.  It’s important to get over it.  Whatever it takes to get over it, you have to do that and you have to move on.  And once you’ve moved on you have to leave all those things in the past where they belong.  Period.

I’m still not entirely sure what to make of this advice/belief system.  I know that this friend had some crap to deal with in her childhood, so it’s not like her belief is coming from a place of not knowing.  She seems very well-adjusted and happy with her life as it is right now.  True, she’s younger than me, hasn’t crossed over that strange and significant age of 35 (where, at least in my experience, everything started to change and slip).  She has her moments too and I don’t know what’s really going on in her head.

But it does make me think.

Does the past ever leave us or do we carry our scars for our whole lives?

I should qualify to say that I do think it’s possible, even imperative, to work through and get beyond the pain of our past.  I don’t walk around every day paranoid that my best friends will dump me and make new best friends.  Yes, I worry about it way in the back of my mind in a place that I can tune out 99% of the time.  Yes, occasionally I’ll watch a movie like Bridesmaids that hits way too many nerves.  But for the most part I don’t let that particular piece of baggage get in the way of everyday life.

But I know that friendship, jealousy, and self-worth are and probably always will be much more of a stumbling block for me than most other people.  That writing was on the wall a very long time ago.

Curing the mind of the unfairness of childhood wounds kind of feels like a simple matter of logic.  I know I’m being silly.  Healing the heart of the pain inflicted on a sensitive soul that was too young to handle disappointment and betrayal is another can or worms entirely.  I will always feel that pain, whether I want to or not.

So what do you think?  Can we check our baggage and leave it behind us without worrying or do we carry it with us always?

Why Men Should Pay on a Date

I was having a conversation with my coworkers the other day about dating and I surprised myself by expressing my firm belief that men should always pick up the bill on a date.

Ooo, really?  Do I really think that?

Yes!  I do.

Now, I consider myself to be a pretty liberal, enlightened woman.  But when it comes to dates of the first or second or anything prior to “we’re officially going out” kind, I have this visceral belief that the man should pay.  It seems so old fashioned.  It flies in the face of my beliefs about equality and fairness.  And after a couple has had THE CONVERSATION and agreed that they’re Going Out I definitely think the bill should be split or that the woman should pay at least half of the time.  But before that?  When two people are testing the waters and seeing how things go?  That check is all yours, bro.

So why do I believe this?  Where does this subconscious sense of the rightness of certain things come from?

My theory is that it boils down to hundreds if not thousands of years worth of men needing to prove that they can provide for a woman’s needs.  From time immemorial, since before our monkey ancestors dropped down out of the trees, the male of the species has had to compete with other males to prove that their genes are more worthy of being passes on through the female of their choice than the next monkey’s.  The female sense of what is attractive has developed on an instinctual level based on which male can keep us and our children alive the longest.  If a male could fight off the other males, make lots of babies with us, and make sure that we would all be well-fed and safe then he was in like Flint.

As mankind got a little more sophisticated the form that these things took may have changed, but for all intents and purposes the message was the same.  In the Middle Ages noble men were often not allowed to marry until their fathers had died, handing over their lands and titles to the eldest son.  Mothers wanted their daughters to marry the richest and most titled lords.  Why?  Because they could fight off the other males, make lots of babies, and make sure that the women were well-fed and safe.  Those men who couldn’t offer the promise of a home and an income were out of luck in the marriage department.

Time passed, society progressed.  The Industrial Revolution happened and suddenly the demographics of the mechanized world changed.  People moved out of the country and towards the cities.  Men didn’t have to have a title or estates to catch the eye of the ladies.  But they still had to have means.  A job at least.  There’s a reason most heroes in Regency and Victorian romance novels are dukes or lords or have money, by the end of the novel if not at the beginning.  These are our idealized versions of masculinity.  They are handsome, faithful, and wealthy.  They can fight off the other males, make lots of babies, and keep the heroine well-fed and safe.

I’m not just talking about money here, in case you were about to accuse me of that.  Yeah, you know you were.  Money is merely a symptom of something much more important.  Ambition.  Motivation.  Purpose.  Money is a side-effect of someone with passion who cares about making their life and the lives of the people they love better.  I’m not talking about millions of dollars here, I’m talking about the desire to stand on your own two feet without asking for help from your parents or the government or anyone at all.

So.  Here we are again on our date.  Nothing turns me on more than a man who is motivated to demonstrate to me that he is thoughtful, independent, and confident.  What better way to convey that message than by taking me out and showing me a good time?  It doesn’t have to be dinner at Le Bec-Fin.  I would be equally if not more impressed if he took me to Sonic for onion rings.  Why?  Because I like Sonic onion rings.  The point is that he is taking the initiative, proving that he is capable of organizing and executing a plan.  He is proving that he will not end up sprawled on my couch in a wife-beater with a beer demanding that I make him a sandwich while he watches the game.  He is proving that I am not his mother, that I will not end up taking care of him.

Paying on a date is not about a guy impressing me with the size of his wallet, it’s about him showing me that he can fight off the other males, make lots of babies, and keep me well-fed and safe.  It’s about him demonstrating that he is mature enough to take a position of authority and to be sensitive to the needs of those around him.  Me, yes, but let me tell you, you can tell A LOT about a man by how he treats the wait staff and even the other patrons at a restaurant.

We live in a new, modern society that, for the first time in all of human history, doesn’t place outward, public rites of passage on young men to enable them to search for a mate.  There are no rules of inheritance or etiquette that slow down the mating process to ensure that the right decisions are being made and that couples will be able to handle the inevitable stresses of relationships.  Maybe that’s why so many relationships fail so spectacularly these days.  This one last vestige of the complex social order of days gone by, men paying on a date, sometimes feels like the only rational demonstration of practicality before emotions take over and make everyone lose their heads.

Arranged Marriage – Not Such A Bad Idea After All

I realized yesterday as we were all sitting around at Family Dinner talking about the many various things we’re all up to that I quite literally don’t have time for a boyfriend.  I would love to have a man in my life, don’t get me wrong.  It would be fabulous to have someone there for me when I needed him.  It would be nice just to have someone around.  And I could certainly use the financial help of an added income.  But in no way, shape, or form do I have time to date.  Between work, writing, and maintaining the relationships I already have there simply aren’t enough hours in the day.

What I need is an arranged marriage.

Whoa, whoa, you say, slow down.  An arranged marriage?  Are you out of your mind?

No.  I’m not.  I have a lot of Indian friends.  Several of them are in arranged marriages.  In fact, one of my very bestest best friends is in an arranged marriage and her relationship is healthier and happier than many of the other ‘love matches’ I know of.  She loves her husband, and he loves her, and they have a happy life together.

It’s all about expectations.  Western culture has a whole different set of expectations from marriage than Indian culture does.  Plus we in the West have a lot of misconceptions about how arranged marriages are entered into and what they mean to the people involved.

In a nutshell, here’s how my friend explained her experience to me.  Arranged marriage is one of two equally viable and accepted options, the other one being love marriages.  She was dating a guy and hoped he would propose, but he didn’t.  So when some of her female family members mentioned that they knew of a guy who would be perfect for her she said okay and agreed to meet him with the intent of getting engaged to him if she liked him.  Her husband had spent most of his life in the US and many of his family members had married whoever they wanted, Indian, American, white, black, and Hispanic.  But when the option of an arranged marriage came up for him he said okay and went to India to meet my friend.  My friend liked him okay when she met him and said yes to the marriage.  As she tells me, nothing is set in stone and nothing is forced.  The girl always has the option of refusing the man her family has found for her.*  She had a good feeling about her future husband and went off of that.  It wasn’t love at first sight, she didn’t feel any sense of ‘you complete me’.  It was more like the time had come for her to grow up and enter the responsibility of marriage and this guy seemed like a nice enough guy for her to spend the rest of her life with.  It also meant moving to a new country and starting a new life, which was fun and exciting to her.  So after a year of mostly talking on the phone they got married and she moved to the US.  After a rocky-ish start (that is none of my business repeating) they got used to each other and fell in love.  Now they are very much in love and proud parents.

I’m always struck by how well my friend and her husband work together as independent units and together.  They each have their own lives but those lives dovetail very well together.  It seems to me like all of the arranged marriage couples I know have full and complete lives and interests on their own but they also gel very well together.  I think this might be because neither one of the people in the marriage hangs their happiness on the other.  I have seen so many American marriages fall apart because one or the other party got upset that the other wasn’t giving them what they need.  And that’s all well and good.  We all have needs.  But I personally think a lot more harm comes out of relying on the other person to make you happy, to define you, and to fulfill you than good.  But if you go into marriage with the understanding that you are responsible for making yourself happy and fulfilled and then bringing that into a relationship rather than expecting the relationship to make you happy then you’re doing much better.  And the divorce rate in India is about 1% whereas in the US it’s hovering around 50%.

But wait, you say.  Isn’t it, like, next to impossible legally and socially to get a divorce in India?  No.  It’s not any harder than it is here.  Although there are some family and social pressures in remote villages.  But those same pressures also exist in the West, let’s face it.

Here’s another story for you.  My dear friend has a cousin who also had an arranged marriage.  It was a total disaster.  They were horribly unsuited for each other and the husband’s family tried to impose some serious old-school conservative rules on my friend’s cousin.  I know this woman.  She is NOT old school conservative.  Her in-laws expected her to be a good, meek Indian wife, stay at home all the time, and pop out babies.  She had one daughter and decided she wanted no more of it.  So what did she do?  She got a divorce.  And it’s just like any old American divorce with shared custody and child-support and all that.  Granted, my friend’s cousin is a bit of a train-wreck, bless her heart, but she tried it, didn’t like it, and got out of it.  No one is forced to stay in an arranged marriage.

I think it was probably the same in Western culture of yesteryear.  People married for reasons other than love.  They stayed married because it was what they were expected to do as mature adults.  When we think of arranged marriage in the 21st century West we think of the worst-case scenarios.  I don’t think it was like that all the time.  Maybe those women from days gone by didn’t go out there and peruse the market, date a bunch of guys, fall in love with one and marry him and live happily ever after.  But that doesn’t mean they didn’t ever fall in love with their husbands or live lives of contentment in a family unit that was dedicated to each other and making it work.  If every case was a worst case then the institution would never have lasted.  No, I think it’s far more likely that most arranged marriages lead to lives of steady contentment.  But stability is too boring to be reported, so all we hear about is misery and unhappiness.

Which brings me back around to me.  I have always hated dating.  I would rather dig ditches then sort through profiles on dating sites or hang out in bars.  I never feel comfortable in those early days of getting close to someone, worrying if they like you as much as you like them, and building up to THE CONVERSATION.  I have always said that I would much rather start three months in to dating someone, when you already know you’re together and there isn’t any question about where the relationship is going.  Yes, I need an arranged marriage.  Let someone else do the grunt work for me.  Find a nice guy and invite him over for tea so I can see if I get a good vibe from him.  And if I do, then let’s just get married and work everything else out as we go along without all the fuss of ‘he loves me, he loves me not’.  I would rather have a love that grows over time than one that bursts like a firework and fades into disappointment.  I’m weird like that.

I may be weird, but I also think it’s a shame that our culture doesn’t have that option available for those who want it.

And seriously, Indian wedding clothes are AMAZING!

*My friend comes from a relatively well-off family living in a large town but not one of the metros (Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, etc.).  She tells me there are still problems in villages that are lagging behind the rest of the country in a lot of ways.