Showing posts with label comparing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comparing. Show all posts

Thursday, 7 November 2013

Warring Women versus The Sisterhood


Image source: www.ketzali.com

We are one bitchy, judgemental lot aren’t we?

Every day I read social media updates about mummy wars and women criticising each other for choices made and clothes worn and parenting decisions and food choices. Blogs and articles are constantly being written by women imploring other women to stop judging each other. To give a sister a break. To stop being such bitches. Our own focus on women as crap people is relentless. The negativity that we are imposing on ourselves is endless. It feels like we are all beating the same self-deprecating drum in an effort to show how evolved we are.

And it is true that we are judgemental. Many of us measure our own performance and, sadly, self worth by how we see everyone else is performing or coping or falling apart. It’s not new. We’ve always done it only now, in the information era, everyone knows about it. We used to just bitch behind each other’s backs. Now we post status updates and share articles in a passive aggressive attempt at saying “I’m doing a better job than she is.”

So now that I’ve got that out of the way, let me remind you of something very important about us 'warring women'.

We are a sisterhood. And just like sisters, we are able to bitch and insult and fight and disagree until one of us loses our shit and then we’ve got each other’s back.

Yesterday, I saw three separate women unexpectedly and spontaneously burst in to tears. They all went from smiles to sobs in less than 60 seconds. Each time they were surrounded by women they knew. Each time they succumbed to their emotions because they felt they could. And each time the women in their vicinity moved in with a speed and purpose that only other women understand... because for all our bitchiness and comparisons, we get it. We are all struggling. When we see a sister crumple under her own pressure we are fundamentally compelled to support her. When we see another woman struggle to fight her demons we stand behind her, next to her and many times in front of her. I see women rally for each other all the time. I see it online even more than I see the apparent war of women.



My sisterhood is strong and incredibly valuable to me. It is rich and full of women who represent so many different walks of life. It is diverse in age, culture, politics, religion, sexuality and geography. 

It is my anchor. It is my constant. 

I was raised by a single mum who had an amazing sisterhood. It is in her battlefield that I learnt the lessons of womanhood. It is through her and her friends that I learnt to gather my own army. Watching my mum and her friends navigate life together is where my awe of women began. In fact, from my view point, watching them around the dining room table making cups of tea and smoking cigarettes as they swapped stories and ear-rings, it was almost magical. 

To this day, I find magic in my friendships. My sisters have single-handedly healed gaping holes in my heart. They have saved me a million times from a million different tragedies. They have stood by me through fist fights [real and metaphoric] and I have seen my joy reflected in their eyes and heart  time and time again. I have a friend that calls me crying often and by the end of the conversation, which is sometimes only 5 minutes long, she’s laughing. 

That’s magic. That’s powerful. THAT'S what women do.


And if you’re reading this and thinking to yourself “What are you talking about? I don’t have a sisterhood!” then you’re probably a man OR you haven’t met the right women yet. 

Do not despair, sister. Start close to home and gather your army and in the meantime stick around... 

I’ve always got room for more in mine x

Thursday, 21 February 2013

I can't keep up with the Joneses




I love my home. Sometimes I think I’m even ‘in’ love with my home. I love it. I love the location and the character and the way we’ve renovated and the different entertaining areas and my laundry cupboards and my outside speakers and my fireplaces. I love it. I feel happy at home and I’m always having people over because I want to share my home with them. I want them to be happy here too but lately I haven’t been 'feeling it'. Lately I've been making excuses and I blame other people. You know... the "Joneses".

Sometimes I hate visiting other people’s homes. 

They’re all neat and tidy and colour co-ordinated. Colour schemes that start at their feature walls and end at their collection of vintage bottles on their Scandinavian side board. [The closest I get to Scandinavian furniture comes with an allen key in a flat pack]. They have timber sayings in their kitchens and black and white photo galleries in their halls and real art on their walls. Their kids have names on their bedroom doors [that they didn’t do themselves in craft] and their walls are clean. Their bedside lamps match each other. Their coffee tables have books about photography and interior design on them and there’s not a corner protector in sight.

When I go to their toilet there’s no wee dribble on the floor or skid marks on the toilet bowl. Their handtowels smell fresh and don’t have the mud that someone failed to wash off in their 7 second attempt at hand-washing. There’s no toothpaste residue in the basin or evidence of last night’s bath in the tub. Their spare room looks like a guest room and not the dumping ground for everything that hasn’t been put away yet in the mad scramble before visitors arrive. Their splashbacks gleam, their cook tops shine and their kitchen floors mock.

I don’t find jocks hidden behind their cushions on the couch or chip wrappers stuffed into the creases of the lounge or half a bowl of popcorn which was dropped and surreptitiously brushed under the furniture for fear of reprisal.

It’s depressing... HOW do they do it??

No matter how I try, I just can't seem to keep up with the Joneses.