#beingfemale

[ahquinncidence]

Just being a girl.

[jacquelinedax]

Just relaxing at my son's restaurant at a quiet table on my own

[coneflowersoul]

#gettingolder #middleagerocks #beingfemale #coneflowersoul #lovemylife https://www.instagram.com/p/By57cARHwNe/?igshid=42x55hq3myop

[asilesottam]

Hum, let's see... How many countries have I not visited on the count of being a sole female backpacker? How many times have I avoided getting on the elevator with a creepy, pervert neighbor? How many times have I rushed to my car at night, after work, afraid that I might get attacked or assaulted? How many times have I parked by some shop or entrance to avoid being too far from any help? How many times have not been taken seriously bc I'm female (and babyfaced)? How many times have I changed outfits to avoid catcalling? How many times have I had to take a stand and make myself heard? How many times have I yelled at bus drivers for intentionally cutting me (and laughing) in traffic? How many times have I had to speak up to stop a man from interrupting me? How many one date freaks have I blocked on my phone and social media? How many times have I had to say NO several times bc once apparently still means yes? . (and I know some women have it much worse, sadly) #beingfemale #weneedfeminism https://www.instagram.com/p/BvHObfCHxxE/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=vs2eto3uh2a7

[sunflowerlovexoxo]

"Use a dime sized portion of conditioner" .. That's like using an extra lite tampon on day 2.. It ain't doing nothing.

[madamewoolite]

I am pretty sure my presumption was correct.

[imlearningstuffandthings-blog]

African Gyal in My Brothers’ World

I wonder…

What is it like to have brothers who respect you? What does it feel like to have siblings who care about your life, your feelings, your aspirations, your success?

What is it like?

So I was born in Cote d’Ivoire. For those of you who don’t know, that is a country in west Africa. My mother, aunt, grandma, and I moved to the United States when I was 3 years old. My mother met my step-father when I was 4. I am now 19. I have spent my entire childhood and early adulthood here in grand ol’ America, while having pretty traditionally African parents.

There’s been some pretty major culture clash.

I grew up with the new Western ideology that as a woman, I am equal to a man in every way. I am not his maid, his servant, his cook, or his slave, I am to be valued as a productive member of society whether or not I join the workforce or choose to stay home as a housewife. My voice matters. My opinion matters. My choice matters. (I know all of these aren’t necessarily true or 100% there yet but this was my thinking growing up as a child. Bear with me as I talk through adolescent naivety.)

However being from a pretty traditional African family**, all those things weren’t always equal. I am the only girl of 5 children (in the house) and I could always spot the differences between my treatment and that of my brothers. When I was the tender age of 8 years old, my mother started teaching me to cook and clean. She cited constantly that these were things I needed to be capable of doing as a woman because I will never find a husband to do these things for me. My brothers? They had little to no responsibility because housework does not equal men’s work. They will find wives to serve them. They can be content sitting and watching TV while I make sure my dad and everyone else had dinner that night while simultaneously taking care of my baby brother and cleaning the house whenever possible as I go.

Just to put this in perspective, I was around 11-12 years old at the time.

Now, I always took care of my responsibilities the way dutiful, African daughters must. But I never, not once in my life, agreed with these principles and I despised that my brothers were growing up thinking that this was okay and the proper way to live. I am relieved that at least as I’ve grown older and had more authority to assert (at least on the younger 3) my brothers slowly began to and are continuing to pitch in around the house with chores - especially as I am no longer home during the year to do so myself.

The reason I talk so much about my history is because I honestly believe that my brothers’ lack of understanding of me is deeply rooted in this way of being raised. They have very little care for how the tiniest bit of consideration on their part could make all of our lives much easier. They make plans without my consent and I am meant to quietly go along with their decisions and accept whatever it is they want. I am expected to be understanding of their needs, their feelings, and their thoughts but they do not have to return the same courtesy. When I am vocal about being angry and hurt and share my frustrations, I am “crazy,” “too emotional,” and “angry.”

I can’t win.

**I can only speak for mine and personal friends/family experiences growing up as an African girl in America. I in no way want to generalize all African families in this way as there are plenty of modern, progressive ones out there.

[lisarosephoto]

#yin #yinenergy #beingfemale #passive #patient #vulnerable #ifollow #woman