TODAY is Women’s Day. We’re being feted and invited to high teas and supposedly women’s interests. You know, girly stuff.
The reality – my reality – is starkly different from fun times, high fives, make-up, and shoes with matching clutch purses. My reality is that I am a woman who functions as mother and father; I am on duty, in some form or another, around the clock; and in this I am not alone. I am a widow, but I am so much more than that.
I am also a daughter, sister, friend, and sometime in-law.
On the home front, raising two sons, I am in the driving seat. I try to make sure it is a smooth ride, but life happens. And I’m no Lewis Hamilton, nor do I want to be. I am quite happy being a woman, thank you.
What is it about this day that makes it any more special than any other day? Precious little. Much like Christmas Day or a wedding day, it comes and goes.
Meanwhile, I have to find at least one reason to enjoy being me, being alive, being a woman. I have that, in every woman in my and my late husband’s family from whom I’ve learnt so much.
Even so, do not get me wrong, I seriously respect the women who marched 60 years ago. But if I really have to pin it down, my maternal granny is the rock from which I am hewn. Infinitely wise, tough, loving, strong. A survivor.
But tone it down to my life today, and the reality that this is a man’s world has a way of permeating into the simple and ordinary things we have to do to get by.
I am reminded of this every day. Quite hilariously, at times.
I go to church and an older woman will comment that I “look nice … I must be looking for something”. Lawd, ha’ mercy!
Then there are those women who suddenly manifest a great need to become clingy towards their husbands. No, thanks. You can have him to love and to hold. Forever. Let’s just say: taste differs.
Try taking your car for a service: After the mechanic greets you with that come-hither glint in the eye, and you explain, rather ineloquently, what’s wrong with the car, they calculate the bill based roughly on your appearance. You look like you’re looking after yourself, therefore you must have loads of disposable income. Or call out a plumber or electrician. Same thing.
So I’ve had to, er, man up, very quickly. I’ve learnt it is quite okay to refuse services, give “no” for an answer, have a pyjama day on my terms, take a break eating sushi-for-one while downing a cold one. My kind of girly stuff.
But each day I count my blessings. I watch my sons growing up into amazing young men and they make me proud. I am a tough mother.
The fingers on one hand account for my true and good friends. The kind you can phone in the night and they’d come like a cavalry would.
The saying goes: be the change you want to see. Here’s a little help:
1. Be kind to other women (including your daughters-in-law).
2. Help someone out of a bind and if you make a promise to be there, then be there.
3. Build your support group.
4. Factor in fun and don’t take yourself so seriously.
5. Eat and drink the good stuff.
6. Do at least one something that stretches your imagination, makes you feel alive.
7. Know that we all affect one another; it’s true what they say about no one is an island.
8. Do your best whenever and wherever you can. If you can’t, at least you tried. But, for heaven’s sake, be honest about it.
9. Your children will always need you. They need love more than they need a mommy with a pre-pregnancy waistline and a cleavage by Dr Plastic Surgeon.
10. Men reading this: you, too, may have mothers, wives, daughters. Think about how you’d like them to be treated.
So here’s to every woman who finds a woman of character and strength to learn from and to love. And know you are blessed.
l The Writer writes under a pseudonym and speaks for herself