We raise our daughters to wear dresses but force them to sit down as soon as they learn how to walk. We point at the crevasse between their legs and say, “You need to be careful so you don’t cause any embarrassment.” We force them to pick their dresses carefully so they don’t reveal too much, attract any attention or offend anyone.
We embrace them with the first sight of blood but are quick to burden them with the sense of womanhood. “This is your sex, but you are not allowed to enjoy it.” We use words like slut and whore to daunt them. “Only men are allowed to undress you, want you, ravish you. Your duty is to wait and to give, give, give at their command.” We place them in front of mirrors and pick and peel away layers of skin until there is nothing left. “Shave that, wax that, stand up straight.” We give them brooms and show them how to brush away their desires. “You’re not supposed to want sex.” But we also tell them to be always desirable because men quickly lose interest. “And if he does, then it’s your fault because as a woman, it is your job to excite him.”
We tell our daughters that their bodies are temples for men to come and worship, but we also teach them the destructive power of self criticism. “Men want curves. Your breasts will never be symmetrical. Your eyebrows are too thick.” We continuously shrink them to fit inside a box that would be approved by society, and we shun away those who never do. We tame girls who speak too loudly, dress too tightly and are not afraid to speak the truth or be the truth. We shut them down and pat ourselves on the back and say, “She had it coming.” We teach them that attracting attention is worse than rape and violence because “a real woman” keeps to herself.
We steer them away from success and build false ceilings, “You’re only meant to go this far.” We warn them that men don’t need equals but lesser parts. We tell them that too much ambition is bad, and that in a man’s world it is meaningless.
We teach them that silence is the greatest virtue, but they learn that resentment can build up and explode instead. “Don’t talk about your feelings,” they warn us. We are nailed, hammered and painted on to become as still as walls; we do not speak, we do not express, we do not feel. Or at least we aren’t supposed to.
Trapped between what is expected and an innate human yearning to express, we are a gender lost. We grow up deeply conscious of every thought, every word, every deed. We are weary of every man that crosses our path: what does he expect of me? Between the scolding of our mothers and the shaming of society, we continue to give until there is nothing left to give. And even then, we don’t know how to stop. How do you unravel decades of reprehension and guilt? And most importantly, can we reverse the flawed system with our own daughters?
Why don’t we raise them to believe that they, alone, are enough? Why don’t we encourage them to dress however they want, whenever they want? Why don’t we teach them that their bodies are holy grounds only those worthy of can come for worship?
We need to raise our daughters on the principles of self love because fear never wins. We need to eradicate the break the vicious cycle and destroy the shackles society has put on us and say, “This world cannot function without you.” We need to show them that silence is deadly and that their voices are the best weapon. And most importantly, we need to become examples of what we really are for them: simply human.
0 Response to "Things We Teach Our Daughters"
Post a Comment