'Depends who you marry I suppose.'
Not quite the answer I was looking for as it pre supposed that I had no value other than what was placed upon me by a man. Assuming I was lucky enough to catch one.
Even when I told my (female) teacher when I was five back in nineteen *cough* *ahem* that I intended on being a lawyer, she said that I should be a nurse instead. Assuming my husband would let me work at all!
As a spotty (and really horrible) teenager I discovered (partly via the still dreamy Paul Weller) a penchant for left wing politics and feminism. Let me state for the record that I am aware I was a royal pain in the arse and I unreservedly apologise to any male I snapped at for holding a door open for me. I was young, I was stupid, I had spots and I was angry!
And confused. Which only made me more angry. I knew that I was a feminist right!?! But I had no real concept of what that actually meant beyond the fact that there was nothing a boy (spit) could do that I couldn't. Apart from peeing standing up. And I tried. And failed. And in an event known to me at least as 'the greatest ever embarrassment at Robertsbridge youth club ever' I weed on my leggings. They were white.
But I digress.
As an adult, but not a grown up, I am still angry. I am angry at so many things; unequal pay, maternity leave rules, the glass ceiling, the fashionistas who make young women ill by making them believe (much like my mum and primary school teacher) that they will be NOTHING unless they are skinny, beautiful and able to catch a man; the list goes on and on.
The difference is that I now have a base, an internal credo if you will, to start from and that is personal autonomy. I own myself body and mind and I make the rules for it.
Sounds simple doesn't it? To tell you the truth it is, and it covers everything from sex, to abortion to the right to withdraw my labour from my employer.
I do not have to do a damned thing I don't want to with my body or my mind. I have the last word and where it comes to me that word is law.
If I decide that I cannot carry a pregnancy to term, that is my choice. If I decide to go on strike for equal pay, that is my choice. If I decide I want to paint my nails, wear make up, have nice hair and try and be the next Imelda Marcos where it comes to shoes that is my choice. If I decide I want to slob round in my trackky bottoms with my hair a mess, whilst eating a whole pot of Ben and Jerry's that is also my choice.
It's all about choice. All about personal autonomy. It's the beginning and end of everything that makes me the human being I am. The flip side of course is responsibility and if you want to taste the freedom of personal autonomy that is the price that you have to pay. I still consider it a bargain.
I had a daughter of my own. She asked me what should she be.
My answer was 'Whatever you want. You can be anything you desire as long as you remember... Your body, your rules.'
Now, where is that ice cream?
personal autonomy and personal responsibility are the cornerstones of my stance on pretty much everything. and honestly don't get people who'd give up either of them - yet that appears to be pretty much everyone. i can honestly only think of a handful of people who truly understand and actively engage in both of these. if i manage to teach my daughter one thing in life i want it to be those two lessons.
ReplyDeleteif i get to teach her anything else, though, i'll probably start with our old lesson about fun ;)
1)fun is good
ReplyDelete2)if you're not having fun, don't bother
3)if you're not having fun and it is someone else's fault, make them pay!