I’m about to let you in on a little secret. Caveat: if you have ever been to my house, watched me work, or know me at all, this is not a bombshell. I lean decidedly towards the “dis” side of the “organized” spectrum. My intentions, however golden they may be, have never quite been enough to tip those scales. As such, I attempt to, as regularly as I can muster, take a bite of the clutter elephant and put order into the chaos.
Today the task was to go through all my “saved” posts I had clipped on Facebook. It really is quite the handy feature. I save all sorts of things: recipes I’ll likely never make, videos I’ll forget to share, articles I probably won’t read, and topics that I intend to, at some point, maybe, write about.
I can only assume that “22 Things Confident Women Don’t Do” falls into the “articles I probably won’t read” category. But, because I needed to decide whether it was a delete or keep, I clicked through.
I have decided the article would be more accurate if titled something like “22 Things Imaginary Woman Don’t Do” or “22 Unattainable Ideals” or, my personal favorite “Hey Chica, come here and let me kick you in the teeth you inadequate, less than female”.
The list is full of bumper sticker declarations that have the same shallow effect that messages of this type typically have – on the surface they are simple and concise lending the appearance of noble, healthy, and appropriate, but taste all of it for just a minute and it’s just over processed non-food.
In order to maintain perspective (I am prone to knee jerk in these moments of self doubt), I sat with it a while. I am still sitting with it as I do not know the writer and it is not my desire to assume her intention. I have understood for a long time that once you put nouns and verbs together and release them into the world, the intention you insert into the blank spaces may or may not be the intention received by the reader when they, in their own place, encounter those spaces.
However, I have also understood that the responsibility in preserving your message by the surrounding nouns and verbs you choose to couch it in is a real one. Since the author chose to launch her list with “See how many of this list of pitfalls you avoid and how you measure up as a confident woman,” the blank spaces are filled with judgement, condescension, and beratement.
I am currently sitting here contemplating the desire to go through each of the 22 things on this list and refute them. They are ALL refutable; not in the base idea necessarily, but in the absoluteness of the structure. I think that is what a confident woman can do when confronted with the idea that someone’s uneducated opinion of personal behavior is summarily judged and condemned without perspective.
The debater in me wants to follow that path so bad I literally had to step away from the computer to consider it without my fingers poised on keys.
However, I respectfully decline to go that route. Should the course of any conversation that results lend itself to discussing the particulars, so be it. Today, the confident woman in me has a different hierarchy of priorities. Because that is real life. That is how real shit goes. I am not everything everyday. While I may not be consistently immune to self doubt, worry, or the need to people please in my behavior, I am consistently confident as a person.
And there’s the realness of my confidence and the confidence of women, people, I know. I am not ashamed of my vulnerability. I do not judge harshly my base behaviors that I work out in safe spaces with those who know me well and allow me to be safe and vulnerable and real. I am confident in me and confident in them. I hope that is what you find in these blank spaces.