Teragram is doing some thinking over here based on a conversation we had a while back in my livingroom about how the women in my life are often so reluctant to refer to themselves as women, preferring “girl” or similar.
Feminist Naomi Wolf in her book Promiscuities suggests that it’s our lack of ritual that is to blame for our poor identity as women. It’s a long time since I’ve read that book but I recall an account she made of a culture where young women who began menstruating for the first time swam out to sea in the presence of their communities – leaving as girls and returning as women. I like that.
I remember also as a young teenager reading the superb post-war novel Back Home by Michelle Magorian and being enchanted by the traditions of Rusty’s avant-garde American foster-family, who marked the beginning of puberty in their children (be it hairs on the upper lip or the first signs of blood) with celebration dinners. Growing up in a household devoid of traditions and rituals I was immediately attracted to these ideas. I’m trying to create traditions and rituals in my own life and hope that should I ever become a mother I can develop these with the young men and women I help rear.
I think I have a clear view of myself as a woman. This was a decision I made; I couldn’t say when. I’ve always done things a little sooner or been a touch more advanced than my peers – I say that without vanity, and credit most of it to my parents’ rearing or genetics. I was walking at nine months and reading aged 3…I spent my early school-days bored to tears. I had my first job aged 11. When I was 13 I was 5′ 11″ and looked 20, so certain behavioural expectations came with that. At 14 I made a reasoned decision to follow Jesus Christ, much to the chagrin of my poor bewildered atheistic parents! This decision was to shape my life in a way I could never have predicted. By 15 I was in a serious relationship (with a young man I then married six years later). By 17, I was living on my own, supporting myself financially. By 21 I was married. You get the idea. All that sounds very grand, but the realities were often hard. Somewhere along the line, however, I decided consciously to begin referring to myself as a woman, and my identity seemed almost to merge with that vocalisation. That says something about the power of the language that we choose – both in our minds and verbally. I did some thinking, too, with an older friend about what it means to be a “woman of God” and this, more than anything else, was genuinely exciting. We are reluctant to embrace our adulthood, but why? I love the freedoms of being an adult – a grown woman.
There are many troubles associated with thinking of yourself as a girl. I have seen it time and again as single women friends of mine in their mid-twenties are hesitant to make decisions about relationships or where they will live or what their lives will look like, because they have not yet acknowledged themselves as whole persons. They don’t trust themselves. They are still overly-anxious about the responses of housemates, friends and family. Married women rarely consider such issues – the world leaves couples alone to do what they will, but still it likes to interfere in the lives of single women. Maybe single men suffer the same problem, but I doubt it. The extended adolescence applies to them too, of course, but they are much freer to go about their peurile business than women.
A friend of mine had a (surprise) baby a few years ago and decided to call him Arthur. I commented that this was a very grown-up, old-fashioned name. She replied that Arthur wouldn’t be a baby forever. Amen to that. I was struck by her comment, and have never forgotten it. Darn right he won’t be a baby forever! She is rearing him to be a man – good aim there! There’s a time for babying, sure: that time is when we are babies. Then there’s a time for the babying to end. And that’s many years ago now, for most of us.
Being an adult I think begins with acknowledging ourselves as adults. Women: you are women. Embrace it. It’s nice.
preach it sister… (waves handbag in air in support) well you know what i mean – whole heartedly agree and all that.
great post clairebo. my rite of passage was when i finally became tall enough to ride the loop the loop at barrys amusements. that was just last year, since then no-one has dared tell me what to do. nah in all seriousness, what you say is very true, I both agree and am guilty of letting myself feel much more controled by others than i should simply because i’m single rather than married. i’m off to tipex out the word girl in my journal and replace it with woman.
*punches air*
Hmm. interesting stuff. I myself am interested very much so in rites of passages things. Ive been thinking for a good few years about different things i would do with my sons.. My daughters never entered my head and then wouldnt you know it but we go and have our first and its a girl!! So im thinking that the swiming out to sea is a good one. Mind you the idea that the WHOLE family would celebrate and by that focus on publicaly and verbally the arrival of a hair or blood is kinda cool. I think puberty is awarkard cause of the way we tiptoe round it..
Anyway..
One thing: single women might be more insecure in realtion to housemates etc but surely those insecurities dont disappear they just get focused on the husband after marraige?
You’re right, but there does exist some kind of correlation in our minds with marriage and womanhood. Women find it easier to think of themselves as women once they’re hitched, which in fact only reveals their insecurities, as you say, which they then focus in other destructive areas.
I am not sure if asking your daughter to swim out to sea during her first period in the presence of your community would go down well with her in our culture.
However I wonder if my dad’s own attitudes to sex etc. were helpful in my understanding of myself as a woman. He demonstrated a profound respect for women and always included me in “male” exploits – DIY, fishing etc. (I also enjoyed cooking and crafts with Mam.) But my dad was the kind of man that I was comfortable enough with to actually tell him that I had gotten my period the day it first arrived when I was 13. Some girls can’t even tell their Mam these things, never mind their Dad.
You need to be the kind of dad that your daughter will want to talk to, before you can arrange any kinds of rituals to celebrate her!
I use too many smiley faces. I didn’t know that.
Here’s to hoping that some day ’round 10 or so years from now a yound girl will burst into my room to tell me of her period. wow. life gets stranger every day.
I spell marraige wrong all. the. time.
Oh and what about the curse? “your desire will be for the man” and all that. Does that explain it ?
Excellent thoughts, Claire-woman.
I had a moment, when I was about 21 years old, where I realized that my parents were correct about many things and had feelings/emotions. I, too, had been living on my own for quite some time, but knowing both my dad and mom as allies and friends really shifted the ways that I cared for them AND allowed me to see myself as a whole woman. Not sure if those were my “rights of passage”, but those moments with my parents stay with me.
(P.S. Don’t click on my blog link. I haven’t posted on it in AGES. I’m a lame woman.)
ok so ive been thinking about this whole thing and i wonder if part of the hesitancy of single women to call themselves women is because deep down they desire care and protection from other people (not because they are women but because they are human). They are crap at asking for this, and also they belive the lie that a man will remove this need, but until then we call ourselves girls because it permits us to need that kind of care and protection and maybe even communicates that need. I dont think this is a good thing by the way, i’m just trying to honestly observe what i see. we need to move away from the idea that to say woman is not to say needless or completly self-sufficient. maybe i’m talkin a loada bollocks. i’ll probably change my mind in 10 mins.