A letter to women who think they aren’t enough
Have you ever seen a cat bring a dead mouse to its owner’s door? As a child I found myself struck by this image. It could be because I myself was inordinately frightened of mice, dead or alive, and hence entertained a low pulse of panic as I approached some doorsteps. Yet I was chiefly enthralled because, despite my fear, I found the act itself to be generous and giving, but ultimately it was still an act of seeking approval and praise.
To be female is to be the cat that nudges her kill towards the doorframe, wanting to contribute to and nourish her owner, but simultaneously seeking validation for her success.
I’m most frightened by this quality in myself, my tendency to give, to throw my sweat and energy and mainly tears into loving and supporting another, only to hope that they see me, and my actions as enough. I’m fixated and hyper-focused on the idea of inadequacy: Good enough. Smart enough. Pretty enough. Quiet enough, but still personable enough. What pains me most about myself, which I witness in other women, is that I never have the self-confidence to assure myself that I am enough. I seek out affirmation from my friends, my parents, my teachers, and most of all men. Especially men I’m in love with.
The cat seeks to please and satisfy its owner. This concept is easy to understand. Likely, the owner provides shelter or food for the animal. What is harder to grasp is why we as women seek to placate, or further, amaze, the men around us. Why do we place such significance in the male opinion and gaze? A society that has historically listened to the ideas of men, bolstered them to positions of power, and reinforced their dominance is the obvious reason. Fleshing out this idea further invites an interesting notion of man as owner, man as shelter, man as provider. Even in this day and age, these ideas persist on a subconscious level, instilling in women a need to please that they did not agree to participate in but found themselves swept up in nonetheless.
Within a system in which women find themselves swimming against a current, gentle enough not to realize it but swift enough to keep her from where she is trying to go, the idea of surrender is a dangerous one. The idea that the achievements we strive for will be achieved regardless, that our paths are already laid out for us grates with me. Yes, in many respects this is true, especially from a position of privilege. But still I am reminded of the meetings in which I find my ideas drowned out in the sea of men’s voices, or of my inclination to assume that I, instead of him, am in the wrong, and I wonder, if we as women surrendered, would we still get to where we are trying to go?
I hope we, as women, fight against surrender. I implore us not to bring the mouse to the doorstep. Bring the mouse to your female friend instead. I want women to abolish the idea of man possessing the power to approve. Resist the temptation to seek approval for your worth and your contribution. Find validation in yourself.
This is all easier said than done. I realize this is a letter to myself more so than to any other woman. In writing, I’m able to gain some solace in the idea that I am not alone, and I can hope that another woman might identify with the emotions I attempt to articulate.
