I am reading Gloria Steinem’s My Life on the Road. One passage (one of many moving, heartfelt, inspiring stories) stood out to me in particular. When Steinem’s decided to tell a taxi driver what she really thought about his bigoted, racist remarks, she was proud of the following:
“I said what I thought and I didn’t get upset.”
So simple, but so powerful.
Think about it, how often do you go to stand up to someone, who you might viscerally disagree with, but you find yourself hesitating? Or doubting your own opinion? Or thinking of all the reasons why you don’t really need to say anything, because the other person is ignorant and you saying something is not going to make a difference anyway? (Maybe that’s true, but does this ever stop a man?)
How often does someone offend or insult you and, before you know it, you are apologising or justifying or rectifying? Maybe you cry, maybe you shut down, maybe you yell?
Why can’t you say what you think, and leave it?
Because saying what you think and not getting upset is difficult. It’s difficult for women in particular, because we are taught from a young age that opinions, speaking up, and speaking out is not the role of women. We are taught socially, culturally, at every stage of life, that our vocal chords are not ‘made’ for assertiveness. That our phrases should be to pacify, not ignite. Comfort, not offend.
So when we do have something to say that might be offensive, confronting or (God-forbid) difficult for the other person to hear, our voices might quaver, we might yell, we might apologise, we might speak softly, we might start to cry. Why do we do this? Because we are frustrated. We are frustrated that all those pre-conceived ideas of femininity, and the ways we were brought up to be polite, and courteous and humble, are stopping us from saying the very thing that we believe.