Women are raised for love. That is, we have been raised to give it in order to get it. Our upbringing trained us to nurture other people. We’re supposed to be good to our children so that they can grow up and realize themselves. We’re supposed to back up our husbands so that they feel free to go out and realize themselves. In other words, the flowers are to grow, and guess what that makes us? Fertilizer—to put it politely. That’s how most of us were taught we would get love—not by being flowers ourselves. If we dared to flower—to be active and self-absorbed and good at things—nobody would feed our roots, and we would die. At least, that’s how it felt.
wow! No wonder I've been feeling so er 'sh*tty'....
This reminds me of an article I read today about a new film called Water. It is about the Hindu tradition of casting out widows once their husbands are dead. These women, of whatever age, have to wear white, have shaven heads and wear no jewellry, and are forced to beg on the streets because their families will not support them any longer. The reason behind this is that Hindu women are defined by the men around them, and when they are no longer a wife, they have no social status whatever, and become untouchable.
This is not a great Hindu bash - I think all societies have a little of this same feeling about them. I am a divorced woman, and in the UK that equates to being a social outcast. I am never invited to dinner parties any more, even though I am certainly not predatory, and I remember well the works Christmas parties where the wives who saw me talking to their husbands would come over and take them away. Which made me smile because firstly I worked with those men every day, and secondly, I had no intention of robbing them of their less than oil painting husbands. But the insecurity was almost palpable.
However, that might not be what is meant here. Just thinking aloud ...
