I was reminded of this past post today. I confess I felt a little convicted by the bible verse at the end myself lately. So please forgive me and regard this as a more direct approach.
My mother would never describe herself as a feminist. Yet I find it ironic that in the end she has been able to live up to feminist ideals much more than I have been.
I mean I was the idiot, who had let myself be manipulated and controlled. Dad always knew push mum too far and she would walk. Miss Women’s Lib here, was the one who had found herself, trapped in domestic-not-so-bliss.
Young Hearts Run Free – Kandi Staton
Making My Own Bed & Lying in It
When dad died, mum had bought herself a new bed. She was so proud of the fact that she had put it together, completely on her own. I had never tried to assemble a bed at the time( I have since and she has my utmost respect.) Mum I need some lessons here…
One of the first things I had done when we finally seperated, was to dismantle the bed and give him the option of taking it – which he had gleefully done. For the next four plus years, I had slept on a sofa bed. I frequently woke up with a sore back but if that was the price of freedom, it had seemed trivial. My next move had been to relocate from the bedroom. I had looked at all the empty space. It had just seemed ridiculous.
My son had inherited the bedroom, – No not because he was male…
..It was a crucial final exam year for him.
To my surprise he had then started dragging his sister’s desk into his new abode. To me at the time this was just another male taking charge and he had initially incurred my wroth. I had feared my daughter was having her mind made up for her (not being treated to a surprise – his perspective.) I was wrong. She had been really excited on her return, and had sat her desk next to his, smiling broadly. I had given him an apologetic hug.
She had continued to have her own bedroom.
Thankfully creating a shared study space, had worked well. They both loved it and had studied together, swapping notes, helping each other get to university.
Think I missed my own point here. There is or at least I feel there should be, a practicality to feminism.
Less burning your bras and more being able to put your own furniture together. Was it not practicality which led women to obtain the right to vote, (rather than protests), following the amazing way they had stepped up during World War One? Actually this is more complex than I had initially believed. See Also:https://familytreeourstory.com/2020/09/06/nobody-told-me/
I was wryly recalling with my daughter this week, the time, my life partner had removed my house key from my key ring, without my noticing. He had then disappeared with my son to sport. It had been a very cold day and we had been left stranded.
Well to shorten another unfortunate episode in my not-so-feminist life, I had eventually managed to get back into my own home. Thanks to inheriting at least some of my mother’s practical streak (and with my daughter’s encouragement,) he had been the one to learn a lesson. (Not the obey me or else experience he had intended to give me.)
Yes it would have been more in line with feminism, had I packed my bag and fled, (My mother probably would have) but my circumstances were different.
The Queen sent a powerful message without saying anything, when she had picked up a King Abdullah in a car, she was herself driving.
Which is fairer asking guys to behave themselves and treat us with respect …
(as I used to do this,prior to my toxic relationship.) This to me, is at the heart of Germaine Greer’s message.
..or to subject them to a barrage of manipulative, passive- aggressive behaviour? Yes, I have my moments too but ultimately I think we lose far more than we gain when we adopt this approach.
I found this today.
You must not harbour hatred for your brother in your heart.
Rebuke your neighbor directly, and you will not incur guilt because of him.
Be aware directly confronting a toxic person.is generally a pointless and potentially dangerous exercise,
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