Empowering Women

Imagery and Self Esteem

2009-02-23T19:46:00.006+10:00

One of the things I'm researching through this site and via the women I interact with is how imagery in the media affects us. In my experience, even the women who claim to be 'cool' with these images of impossible physical perfection, many of which border on pornographic, are indeed not so cool once you scratch the surface.

And scratching the surface is something I regularly do in the interests of encouraging people to think outside the square.Because we are in a square; a tightly defined box - except the boundaries don't really exist. We just think they do - and I believe we're meant to think they do. I often wonder what would happen if more and more women started to say, 'Hang on a minute. I don't actually have to behave like that, think like that or look like that.' I know a lot of us, and even a lot of men, think we're not affected by the not-so-subtle messages that surround us and we think we're free and whole and feeling good about ourselves. But are we really?

I'm a great fan of Naomi Wolf - her book, 'The Beauty Myth' is a must read for both sexes. It analyzes advertising and media images in a depth that few other treatises have dared. And of course she was slammed for it. It didn't however, stop her from writing 'The Porn Myth', which delves more deeply into how this plethora of imagery affects not just women but also men in a negative way. The great 'fib' is that men truly benefit from this kind of advertising. The fact that there's always something just around the corner - literally - to give them some kind of sexual gratification is toted as a good thing. Now...don't get cranky with me, gentlemen.

I don't mean all of you or even most of you buy the lie or that you act like salivating beasts at every turn - but it has to be said that the imagery is there for a reason. There's got to be a reward in it for someone, somewhere. And believe me, the reward is not for the average woman on the street, which is the overwhelming majority of us gals.

And yes, I hear you asking why do the women who make these images participate if it's detrimental to their own sex? Well, I have a theory on that. After all, it's the survival of the fittest out their in the jungle, isn't it? Society determines which 'look' currently deserves the highest esteem and those who possess it scrabble to the top of the heap and fight to stay there. They gain money and status. Sometimes it ain't pretty in the world of 'look at me'....but more on that later. Watch this space.

But the smokescreen bothers me. Does anyone, other than big business, really benefit from this daily assault on our senses or does it just help to perpetuate the illusory great divide between the sexes, a division that needs to be named for what it is - created by popular culture, fed by ignorance and kept in place by fear?And is there anything we can do about it or do we just accept that this is the world we live in and we simply have to learn to cope with it?

Well...I'm afraid I'm just not built like that. It sounds too much like the propaganda Hitler used to convince an entire country that not only were his ideologies correct but that by participating in it, his people were actually working for the greater good. Purrrrr...lease.

We are not sheep; we are not powerless; we are able to think and therefore to act and affect the environment around us. This action aspect is a particular quest of mine.

For those of you interested in Naomi Wolf's 'The Porn Myth', it's worth checking the following link.http://nymag.com/nymetro/news/trends/n_9437/

And one more disturbing trend I've noticed is that more and more of this imagery now contains ridiculously buff and handsome images of men that are slowly but surely becoming sexualized. And I've also observed more and more young men feeling insecure about themselves

On the health and skincare forums I visit, I see the trend picking up pace...ordinary men are starting to panic about their faces and bodies...and putting themselves through all sorts of tortures in order to look 'good', whatever that means. I find it incredibly sad.

We don't need to add to the problem by putting the same stresses on the male of the species that we women have experienced and suffered from for decades. I wonder if the thinking is that by evening up the score, creating tit for tat, that all will be well in the world? That would be dangerous thinking indeed.

Mel

Know Your Life's Purpose?

2007-03-17T15:40:00.001+10:00

Discovering Your Life Purpose: Living the Life You Were Born to Live
by Melanie Votaw

Is your life filled with purpose? Every single one of us has a reason for being
here on the planet right now, and every one of us has a unique contribution that
no one else can make. It's the reason you were born. Are you living the life you
were born to live? This inspiring course takes you on a journey of exploration
and evaluation. Ask yourself the right questions and unveil answers that may
surprise you.

Am I the only one who still wonders from time to time what I want to be when I really grow up? It seems to me this question plagues most of us at least some of the time and some of us most of the time.

I don't want to be just marking time, waiting for my real life to begin, do you? I don't think that anything has such a significant impact on self esteem as finding out who you really are and what you're meant to be doing in this life. And then going for it.

That's not to say that I'm a lost lamb who has no idea what I'm doing or why; but there are certainly times when I don't seem to be headed in the right direction and what I'm doing seems quite pointless. Naturally enough, this often has a lot to do with responsibilities to self and family...I mean, it's difficult to discern a true sense of purpose when you're doing the fourth load of washing and the pile still hasn't shrunk.

There are days when it comes down to what I call the 'Ripple in the Pond' effect, a concept that brings me comfort when I seem to be ploughing through the necessary drudgery without making much of an impact on what I see as my 'real purpose'.

The ripple in the pond effect is a simple one. Think of it like this. When you drop a pebble into a pond, you'll see the concentric ripples spread to the far banks. It might be just a tiny pebble and it might have taken you only a moment and not much effort to drop it in - yet the effects are far reaching. In the same way, random acts of kindness can spread out from one tiny source to touch places we'll never see. It doesn't take a lot of effort but it does take an attitude of mindfulness.

Instead of bypassing that frazzled young mother in the shops, take a moment to smile at her and tell her how lovely her children are. Or, as I had the opportunity to say last night, 'Don't worry, some things get easier as they get older. You're doing great.' Imagine how far that effect might spread...I hope she felt uplifted and more able to handle her hyped up kids with tolerance. And then I hope the kids calmed down a little and stopped fighting. Maybe Dad will be mighty grateful to see them come home and go to bed peacefully, giving him some quality time with his wife.

Who knows? I don't see these consequences...I don't know what really happens. But I do believe in dropping pebbles of kindness into the ocean of life. I believe in the concept of critical mass - the more people who practice this mindfulness the closer the world will come to Utopia (for want of a better word). Wouldn't it be Utopia though if the world were flooded with kindness, caring and compassion?

So the ripple in the pond idea keeps me going when I feel I'm not achieving much in this life and helps me to place the emphasis where it rightly belongs, on the small, significant things.

Making Women Public Property

2007-03-07T10:53:00.001+10:00

A woman's experience of the world is intensely public. Our very forms of dress are designed so that at no time are our personal body parts kept private in the way that a man's body is kept to himself. At all times our breasts, hips, legs and faces are up for male scrutiny since men are allowed to stare at us in a way that women are not permitted to stare at men and men are not permitted to do to one another.

A male-to-male stare is most likely to produce an aggressive response in reaction to the invasion of privacy and to the (correctly) assumed perception of judgement. It is instinctively understood that this is a violation and a power play, one which women are not able to defend themselves against. At the end of a 'normal' day, it's not uncommon for me, and others like me, to feel emotionally violated and yet we're told to view this unwanted attention as a compliment. We're supposed to enjoy it; be flattered by it; and grateful to the man who has passed his judgement on us.

Television, movies and magazines perpetuate the smokescreen. On view at any time of night or day, are dozens of images of female flesh, almost invariably young and scantily clad; if not young, then cosmetically doctored or virtually enhanced. Our men pass judgement on these objects as well, while we sit and squirm, feeling inadequate and often, emotionally betrayed. (And woe betide the woman who breaks her silence on this issue!)

Is it any wonder that so many women shy away from physical intimacy, hiding their bodies and making excuses for their lack of interest? The fact is, as Naomi Wolff points out in her book, 'The Beauty Myth', if men were subject to the kinds of imagery and judgement that women experience umpteen times a day, they would come to our beds with failing hearts. It would be our partners, not us, who turn off the lights, get undressed in the dark and duck for cover under the sheets before they can be seen as the unique piece of humanity they are...because they wouldn't look anything like sixteen to twenty year old boys, half starved of nutrition, pumped up with obsessive exercise, altered by cosmetic surgery and even then, airbrushed into society's definition of perfection.

Seen in this light, our position is truly ridiculous - and the men who, by their participation in this destructive situation, even if only by their complacent acceptance of the 'norm', are also ridiculous.

The Porn Myth - Naomi Wolf

Through the Shattered Glass

2007-03-05T00:54:00.001+10:00

We all see ourselves reflected in the eyes of others. This is not a peculiarly feminine trait: it is simply peculiarly human. For most men this reflection is whole. (Though sadly this too is changing.) For me and my sisters the image we behold is a collection of distorted fragments, none of them pleasing, few good enough. When I behold my face the first feature I see is my too long nose, an aberrant beak, a bulbous knob. From there I note the black, immutable shadows that lie in the caverns beneath my eyes and looking up I see two canyons coursing through my forehead, deviant worry lines that do not belong there despite my forty-six years and decade of ill health.

I've known enough men to know that what they see is a 'bloke who looks pretty good for forty-six' (or fifty or sixty). It's the being inside who counts and if the man is pleased with himself then he is pleased with his reflection. Sometimes, even if there's not a lot to be pleased about, he'll still give the thumbs up. Not so woman.

A woman can achieve much, love much, make great inroads for justice, nurture others, develop her talents and her spirituality (in-so-far as she is able in this world), and still behold a hideously flawed being. Our neurosis? I don't think so. Our own lovers often tell us this story, if not through blunt words, then through their actions, even when we look to them to liberate us through their love. We at least want to be perfect in their eyes. We know that they are perfect in ours.

There are two ways to go from here. We can either break down the bonds that bind humanity in materialism and objectification, bringing the strength of feminine wisdom with us or we can harden our hearts and succumb to the inevitable, destructive forces that are at play in male dominated world. I fear the world is taking the lesser road instead of the road less travelled. There will be no winners.

Into the Cave

2006-12-12T19:47:00.001+10:00

Relate to this? You've had a wonderful few weeks with your man. Lots of contact and affection, much of it initiated by him. Romantic evenings, hot nights in bed, tender words, fun, laughter and easy companionship. It feels like you're walking on a cloud and you never, ever want to come down. You even feel a little sorry for all those women out there who complain that they're lonely, don't understand their partner's silences and long for more company and TLC. You want to shout to the treetops that a healthy relationship is possible, that women really can be emotionally fulfilled and connected to a man. It's just that you have to choose the right one. You know you got lucky - you made the right choice. It's beautiful...and as you kiss him goodbye, you smile to yourself, knowing that he'll be right back here in your arms before the end of the day.

Until he isn't. Until you're halfway through cooking dinner and he still hasn't walked through the door. No drama. Sometimes he runs a little late - what with that high pressure job and all - but he always calls you and lets you know when he'll be in.

Until he doesn't. But still, he's probably tired and taking a nap before he heads over to your house...like he does every night. So you give him time to catch a little shut-eye and then you pick up the phone. He doesn't answer. You feel a stab of anxiety, mild and irritating. But you're a grown, rational woman...you stay calm. You try his mobile number...it's switched off. Determined not to become one of those panicky types who monitor their man's whereabouts, you play it cool. You know he'll call by before the end of the evening ... a light supper, a glass of wine...a little amour. Like he always does.

Until he doesn't. You sleep fitfully, used to his arms around you and worried now about what might be wrong. You wake early the next day feeling like hell, go to work determined not to let the dark circles show and you don't mention it to anyone. You don't want to join that cozy little group of women who cluck and fuss and jolly each other out of the doldrums...the doldrums that hit them when their menfolk start acting weird. Absent. Cold. No, you don't want to be one of them.

When you come home you find it difficult to concentrate...he hasn't called yet. He will. He never lets two days go by without speaking to you.

Until now...

Aha...you're beginning to get the drift. For some women these painful absences are short-lived but frequent. For others, more sporadic but also more drawn out. It can be weeks before the LOYL (light of your life) reappears. And it hurts. A lot. You don't know what you've done wrong? Don't even think about it...you probably haven't done a thing and if you have, chances are you'll know all about it. You've probably spent endless hours thinking about it...and him.

The fact that these unpredictable detachments are usually quite sudden serves to make them even more cruel. For you, nothing has changed and you don't want it to change. But you have no say in the matter, do you? I know I don't. And the mere fact of not being in any way in control of this aspect of your life makes it all the more devastating. Enough psych studies out there have shown that one of the most stressful things a person can go through is a lack of control over the things that affect them. So there you are...not in control...stressed...hurt...lonely...missing him.

Wouldn't it be nice to know what he's going through? A woman would have told you by now; discussed it; shared it; halved the burden; let you know she still loves you and is just going through a hard time or two. But she still needs you. Men? Well, it seems they don't. Or perhaps they do...but forget to tell us. That can be dangerous; for them as well as for us. When does his emotional, even physical absence, become betrayal? When is enough enough?

And why am I so hung up on this at the moment? Because that's what I'm going through. It's hard enough when you live in the same house, or even close by, but for me it's been a long distance relationship. When he doesn't call, doesn't answer the phone, doesn't answer my emails or instant messages...well, frankly, he could be dead. I don't know. Let me tell you it sucks. Has he changed his mind about us? I don't know. Has he met someone else? I don't know. Is the distance too much for him to handle? I don't know. Is he ill? I don't know...I don't know...I don't know.

And so I go a little crazy. But I don't let it show...oh, no...I don't want to be one of that cozy little group you see. I want my relationship to work. To be strong. I want to have made the right choice. Two brief phone calls, one of which we were cut off from, is all I've had in the last 4 weeks - with no explanation. Yes, it hurts...it cuts deeply.

So if there are any brave men out there who happen to read to the end of this post, I have this to say to you. "Stay out of the god-damned cave! It's uncivilized.'

To the light of my life, I still love you because I'm more than a bit stubborn. But I tell you something.... if I wanted a cold and silent partner, I'd have bought a salamander.

Self Esteem on the World Wide Web

2006-12-09T17:57:00.001+10:00

Disturbingly, when I did a web search on self esteem for women, I came up with 16,000,000 odd entries. A similar search on self esteem for men showed up an also disturbing 2,000,000 or so - that's bad enough and it seems men need support and advice as well.

But clearly women's self esteem in general seems to be in significantly poorer shape. I did the search when my own self esteem was in less than a happy state. I'd read books, spoken to counsellors...you know the drill...but still without any real insights. My internet trawl also showed up some unsettling trends. Most of the self esteem resources for women, although well-meant, focus on how to make the most of our physical attributes; how to lose weight, look after our hair and skin, dress appropriately for our figures. But let's face it, none of those things actually make us feel happy or secure in the long term.

Other resources emphasize how to patch up flagging relationships; how to communicate (or not!) with our partners; how to understand how men think; how to change the way we say or do things in order to get what we want from our partners. In other words, how to manipulate! I'm not saying there's not a lot of value in learning the differences between men and women and using that knowledge to build better relationships. But it isn't the be-all and end-all and I have to say, there are few self-help tools out there that address the male need to understand a woman's different desires, needs and ways of being. And while there is no meeting us half way, there is never going to be any real elevation in esteem for women - either from the world or from ourselves. And where physical appearance is the yardstick, women will always be in competition with each other and therefore isolated from one another. Where there is division there is not strength.

But then, just when I was about to give up I found www.womensselfesteem.com and it's here I found 'a whole lot of different'. I'm now an active member of an exclusively female community who support each others' hopes and dreams, listen to fears and frustrations, advise, share wisdom, laugh, love, and mostly build a beautiful sense of community. In a spirit of acceptance and non-judgement these women build each other up, help each other find their strengths and support each other through thick and thin.

Virtually all the women who've joined the community have said something like, 'I can't believe I'm not the only one who feels this way. I feel understood for the very first time in my life. For the first time I don't feel alone anymore.'

Must be doing something very, very right. If your sense of self could do with a little repair, pay www.womensselfesteem a visit. You'll probably want to stay.

Namaste
Mel

Cellulite - A real experiment

2006-12-06T21:42:00.001+10:00

Like most women I can be a little contrary. That's why one moment I'll write all about equality and the lack thereof and then turn around and bemoan that fact that my thighs are driving me nuts. Well, women will be women - and while I don't advocate agonizing over our looks and faults (as the world defines them!) I do know that every woman feels better if she's fit, healthy and making the most of herself. Actually, there are plenty I'm sure, who don't give a hoot about how they look and I say, more power to them.

Right now though, I'm concerned by the incredible amount of money that women fork out for creams, lotions and potions, not to mention surgery (don't get me started on that particular line of thought; we'll be here all night!). Our pay packets might be higher than they were thirty years ago (although please note that we are still paid a significant percentage lower than a man doing the same job - more on that later) - but we're expected to sacrifice a rather large portion of our wages to the fashion and beauty industries. At this moment, I'm thinking of cellulite creams and treatments, simply because for me, this is the part of the physical me I'm most annoyed about. I refuse to say 'unhappy' because I don't let it become such an emotional issue.

I've looked at ads for beauty parlour treatments - things like seaweed wraps, ultrasound treatments etc - and the prices are exorbitant. I've also trawled the net for information on gels and creams that claim to create a new bottom in eight weeks or so. Most of these cost $100 or more per jar and you'll probably need at least two before you're through - and I don't honestly know anyone who's tried them.

So what am I going to do? Who can I trust for the answers? Simple - me. Myself. I. So this is what I'm setting out to find out and hope to be able to share with you and lots of other women. Can a combination of self-massage, anti-cellulite creams and exercise make a difference to the dimples? The little experiment will probably take me around twelve weeks and believe me, I'll give you updates along the way and publish the final results when I'm satisfied I've given it a fair shot. (Please, no requests for before and after photos though...you'll have to trust me on this one!)

I'm not prepared to spend lots of money on this - a quick perusal of the ingredients in some of the main products reveals that one brand is quite similar to another. That's not to say some more expensive brands aren't more luxurious or effective - I simply can't afford to experiment with them just yet. Neither can most women. If you can, by all means try them and let me know how you go.

I'll begin tomorrow, armed with a bottle of anti-cellulite cream from the pharmacy and a list of exercises. Just one more thing...I have Chronic Fatigue Immune Deficiency Syndrome (CFIDS) which means that both my energy levels and exercise tolerance are extremely low. I'll have to take it slow and steady. But the good news for you is that if someone like me does see results, then you can do it too.

At this point, I really want to point out that cellulite is, in fact, 'normal' female flesh. It's the way our bodies are designed in order to store the extra fat necessary for us to reproduce, protect and nurture our offspring. The ideal situation would be that we, along with society, cease to see it as unsightly and accept it as normal, even lovely (being such visual evidence of our femininity).

Until that day, I'll live with a certain amount of cognitive dissonance (internal battle) as I forge on with my experiment.

Watch this space!

Mel

Cowboys and Indians?

2006-12-06T20:05:00.001+10:00

Today at work I was reminiscing with a customer about childhood games. She was surprised to see a toy tee-pee and little figurines of cowboys and indians on display at the shop where I work, thinking perhaps that this kind of role play was no longer politically correct.

I saw her point. When we were kids we'd play cowboys and indians for hours in the back yard - my brother was always a cowboy, often the sheriff, and I, of course, being a girl and therefore a second-class citizen, was always the Indian. Now, not for one moment am I espousing the view that either Indians or girls are second-class citizens. God forbid. It's just that when I was growing up, the culture was so drenched in the heady wine of white male dominance, that no-one thought to question it. Our views were shaped from birth and so accepted by the adults around us that even when we intuitively sensed the 'wrongness' in these labels and social mores, we kept our mouths shut and adapted our thinking to fit the mould. We told ourselves, with feathers in our hair, that at least we were exotic and mysterious, if not powerful. But we knew we'd always lose the fight.

Hmm. How many of us still do that, games aside? How many women still look in the mirror and see someone who's inferior, powerless, even uncivilized? (Hidden your true feelings today? Don't want to be too dramatic, do we? Unreasonable?)

Do you still shut your mouth when your husband or boyfriend criticizes you? Feel embarrassed when your feelings are labelled as irrational or insecure? Feel wrong in your own body?

Dozens and dozens of the women I speak to feel like this. I see them in the shop every day - 'if I put it on layby, he'll never know how much I really spent on the kids for Christmas!' from women who hold down full-time, executive positions. 'I'll have to come back later. My husband's outside and he's really impatient!' from women who run businesses and families. I look outside and there he is, feverishly glaring at his watch, pacing the sidewalk, knitting his brows every time she looks at him. These women are all scared, making decisions that don't come from feeling empowered but from being afraid of who they really are; or perhaps from someone else finding out who they really are.

In internet forums and chat rooms I speak to even more intelligent, attractive and capable women whose emotional lives are a misery because of their partner's roving eye, his involvement with pornography or flagrant affairs. Just as disturbing are the hundreds who are no stranger to domestic violence. In 2006, rape statistics are rising, not falling; domestic violence is rife and child abuse an international disgrace. But we're equal I hear you say. Are you sure? I think we have a very, very long way to go.

I don't mean to be a man basher. In fact, my own father was one helluva guy - antiporn, pro-woman, dedicated dad, passionate partner. My most intimate role model has been the best... but...it seems when he left the world, a lot of the dignity and respect for women that surrounded me disintegrated shockingly fast and here I am, left with the current generation and all it's inbred misogyny and covert oppression of the second sex.

I'm now on a journey I started long ago but from which I allowed myself to become sidetracked - by life, relationship disappointment, ill-health, the demands of single parenting and most significantly - fear. It's the journey to embrace my own power, believe in my own values and ideas and learn to say 'no' loudly and emphatically.

I want to pass on the message. There are tools out there; guides to our own empowerment; internet sites dedicated to women's self esteem; support groups; books, CD's, DVD's and most of all, other women. Seize the day! (And sharpen your arrows!)

Mel