Virtue is connection; feminism is fear

A mother whispers 
In her children’s ears…. 
Commanding the brutal future.

Until they wake up. 
To their freedom.

Here’s my first hand experience with feminists. My aunt, Doris Andersen, was a leading Canadian feminist and editor of Canada’s women’s magazine, Chatelaine. She preceded Betty Friedan in her work. As a young teen I would attend gatherings in her home with her feminist friends and listen. They hated their fathers and canonized their mothers as poor victimized martyrs. Energized together, they stoked their fury with bitter incurious talk, lacking self-empathetic insight into their traumatic childhoods in need of healing. They targeted their fathers and indiscriminately sprayed rage venomed barbs into men in general, often leaving their own sons as collateral damage. They left me with the message that the feminine was weak and in need of rescue. I ached to see muliebrity, womanly sophistication, but bizarrely enough, saw Martini giggling and coo smoothing at the chest of my manly father. When I asked why Canada’s new constitution needed special women’s rights rather than simply individual rights, I was dismissed with the same hand wave gesture from power about which they complained when on the receiving end of it, “Oh, it’s complicated!” I listened attentively to their words and watched their actions over the rest of my life, testing their message for validity against my own experience.

I too, was frightened of my father and men in authority, but I didn’t defend and evade my fears. I turned to them. I looked at Margaret Thatcher, Indira Ghandi, and Golda Meir. They didn’t seem frightened of men, as far as I could see from my teen girl perspective. I wanted that. I wanted what they had (appeared to have) in terms of standing strong. I vowed to learn about myself and overcome my devastating insecurities by turning towards my fears to uncover what I could not see. I’m 54 — it’s been a long journey.

What I was shocked to uncover was a cult of mother, and the supreme power that is not openly owned, but exercised from the shadows, manipulatively. What I created was my own strength to engage openly with men of personal and intellectual power and trade my own clues to the universe for theirs. We all gain from the voluntary interaction and connection. In the process I also encountered other women like myself: abandoned, disdained, disvalued — orphaned by their mother’s evasions against their daughters’ honesty. There are problems, but it’s not the infamous patriarchy; it’s lack of self knowledge and ethics.

Feminism, and all collectivism, cuts us off from accurately mirroring reality. It cuts us from the best in ourselves and leaves us to live as rodents, scheming in the sneaky, lying, passive aggressive darkness that evolution has bequeathed to us. Other oriented, we worry if we are “good” mothers, or “good” women, (if we worry at all — when we’re not using our children as beggars by proxy, and hostages for resources) and merely narcissistically perform as “good.” In fact, reason and rational epistemology tell us that “good” is for objects, and the term “good” immediately cuts us from our hearts, thereby cutting us off from our relationships and children, leaving us furtively looking to the outside for approval.

Feminist rhetoric blinds women to our real power and weakens us if we buy into it. I know that women are capable of phenomenal virtue if we choose to differentiate and individuate — be clear about ourselves as the value and valuer of our lives, and apply empathetic curiosity and reason. By reason I mean the exercise of both logic and empathy. That’s virtuous. We need virtue to thrive.

Virtuous mothering focuses on relationships of connection with our children. Virtuous mothering creates thriving. When we are mindful of that virtuous focus to create connection, it immediately reduces anxiety, warms our hearts, and offers a sharp logic knife for boundary protection from our merely survive-focused predatory mothers. Rulers don’t want that. Rulers feed on our anxiety and agony, promoting more self attack so we will other attack, maintain our primitive hell, and raise authoritarian primed children. Those who know our own value don’t “punch up” at imaginary oppressors projecting our unresolved child abuse pain. We face the truth, mourn, then stand tall with our honest trader bids and expose those who pretend their force is a trade.

Feminism is fear based. Feminism is an ideology supporting force and coercion — it’s a product of that irrational, plundering, top-down, divide and conquer, kill or be killed view of human relations.

The universe does not care if we humans bloom or die out. We get this window to do better with what light we have. I’m not going to leave myself to drift in survive mode and mindlessly perform my evolutionary program; to use my children as objects, and fearfully lie, cheat, and steal for my next meal and social rank. I choose to thrive. I choose to trade for material and spiritual values. I choose connection.

I am an I — a value myself, determining value for myself. Neither mommy, daddy, nor the grey Greek chorus determined it. I have gathered and created my clues to the universe, which I’ve mirrored and modeled in my mind. It’s the best within me that seeks to voluntarily trade in connection with curiosity to learn more and create more. No yoke of fearful connection-destroying feminism for me. I’m not “good” like an object. I am virtuous. I am a woman who openly trades. I stand for individualism.

Image credit: Rider-Waite-Smith deck