The Deceit Of Sisterhood
To Love Me Enough To Love The Next Sister
My reveal triggers pangs. From the depths of my soul I wish it wasn’t true, but my experience teaches me otherwise, and at almost 50, my instinct is screaming at me to stop living in denial. It’s enough already.
As females we’re unique. I know that word is overplayed and trite, but let me explain. As female beings we yearn for inclusivity, yet we use exclusivity as a weapon to achieve said inclusivity. A safety net achieved with these tactics isn’t a safety net, it’s a deliberate action that begs for karma’s wrath. It’s the lowest form of inhumanity. It’s ego over compassion.
Historically our culture is bombarded with conflicted yet consistent messages limiting the female role to “good girl” or “slut”. These stifling, inaccurate roles are in relation to a man’s experience.
In an era of women’s rights and political momentum, the underbelly of ill-will amongst us is still unchecked keeping us in servitude. Our oppressors aren’t only male misogynists, it’s us. It’s what we don’t talk about in public. It’s what we don’t own up to. When it comes down to it, do we have each other’s backs? To what extent? If we can benefit from a sister’s downfall would we fall silent, provide support or fuel the sabotage in hopes of gaining the limelight, even if it’s fleeting? And for what? For a “that’s my girl!” pat on the head or slap on the ass? Or a promise of more? When we will stop seeing our value through the male lens?
Madeline Albright said “There’s a special place in hell for women who don’t help each other” — it is our age-old struggle. It is our #FemTruth.
Girls are labeled “sensitive” “dramatic” “bitch” if we prioritize our experience. By the time we’re women the repressed voice lashes out in perceived competition, which is truly a window into our childhood adversity and life experience. Our own manifestation fuels a vicious cycle with collateral damage, other females.
Until authentic bonds based on virtues rather than esthetics bind us, we will continue to have broken, fragile links. Wouldn’t it be a plot-twist if we dissolved status quo and aligned in spite of misogyny in an authentic union of positive female energy. Instead of striving to be heard at all costs, what if we listened. What if we rose side by side, at our own pace, without judgement, realizing another sister isn’t a reflection of our flaws, but a beacon of light to a different perspective. A window of education. A gift.
Is it possible or are we wired to implode from within, an invisible war of sister against sister. Why are we toxic to our progression? We can’t kick down the glass ceiling of patriarchy if we don’t identify our own footprint.
I love to study human behavior. TV Shows like Big Brother and the Housewives franchise, I find them fascinating. The juxtaposition of inflated self-worth versus insecurities and paranoia. All the details down to the chosen words and tone used to manipulate. There is always an agenda. These skills aren’t to be taken lightly. Our gender has mastered it. We’ve had to. It’s a female version of survival of the fittest. The “mean girl” trigger. Play that card or get played. If you segregate and study the female behavior only, it’s evident quickly that misogyny is alive and kicking within the false security of said “sisterhood” — yes, wolves in sheep’s clothing. The reality is we’re fractured. Did we start this way or was it a by-product of our environment? Each one of us unique, like a snowflake, beautiful, while trying to find balance between ego and compassion. The wrong balance melts the beauty revealing an ugly truth, what we don’t even admit to ourselves.
When we see these women, stuck in the cycle of torment or tormentor, we really need to see them and diffuse the hostility by leading with grace. The burden of saving our sisterhood is too great a burden for anyone, and this is my aha moment.
I need to focus on what I bring to the table. My compassion is in balance with not ego but self-love, trying to ride this philosophical trend into enlightenment. What used to be considered taboo for a woman, time for self, is taboo no longer. I’m learning to focus on self-love and mindfulness because I choose to break this cycle. To love me enough to love the next sister. I refuse to drink the Kool-Aid of female oppression on any level. I will not contribute to our collective destruction. I will “do me” without apology. And I will celebrate the uniqueness within all of us as we strive to make our mark on this world, authentically. No easy feat.
When 45 was elected, and I realized friends within my circle supported him, I was confused. It seemed unfathomable that women would vote against their rights in support of traditional roles. “Boys will be boys” “feminists are man-haters”. Again, females divided by privilege, religion, tradition, everything is prioritized before sisterhood. It’s a reflection of how we devalue our own worth and lash out at those perceived as threats, other women. We are as guilty of putting that energy out there as any female. But have we stopped to identify why?
Everything we absorb blossoms eventually. It’s for us individually to do the research, to soul search, and uncover our personal truth. We each, as women, have the right and responsibility to rise to our potential on our own merit, not to rise in vain within patriarchy on the back of another sister, but by inspiration and perserverence to rise for humanity. We each have a responsibility to check our intent. As the Housewives’ say “Own it!”.
My journey is about uncovering and living in my truth. Untangling through the ties that have stifled me and the relationships around me. It hasn’t been easy, I’ve been blessed with the motivation due to my chronic health detour. And with that, I have to speak out on the lie of sisterhood. Why? Because discussion fuels compassion. That’s the female experience I strive for, humanity at all costs. The beautiful authentic self. I won’t settle for less.
Namaste
