Losing myself in societal relationship expectations

Her eyes were nothing except a flickering blur. Again the dim light outside penetrated her own perception and extended to the digits connecting with this tiny little device. She bought the phone three years ago because of its size and usability. Women’s pockets being almost non existent. Perhaps some deal the the handbag market had brokered to the clothing manufacturers. Of course women’s items must be kept external to her person as not to ruin their beautiful shapes. As an object to be stared at, as an object to be adored. Without identity without opinion, without threat to undermining judgment against the misogynistic cowardice and insecurities… Her mind wondered to just how many patriarchal conventions we acquiesce ourselves to? Even the term “the fairer sex” numbs behaviour with expectations and politely asks up to “please put that placard down and return to raising your children” “return to demurely pleasing your husband” Her mind wandered further to the eight years she had lived with a man and raised two children with. She felt like she had finally been accepted into the world into “normal society” a man who loved her! A good looking man at that! Wow!

By this time she was so browbeaten and broken by the external notions of societal expectations enough to know, that she was thoroughly ugly and unlovable. She felt like she had won the lottery and would do anything to retain this mans love and adoration. For eight years she was invisible, he neither noticed her nor returned the love she placed into her relationship with him. She very soon switched her love to her children. He was unreachable and she had lost herself entirely into the waves of expectations. She was just a wife, mother, housekeeper, cook and cleaner. And she knew she certainly did not belong in this facade, this pantomime. Quite honestly, nobody did! Who’s idea was this and where was the happiness? Do we all take the Buddhist approach and find pleasure in service and sacrifice of our own egos?

Ultimately, she had no opinions to devote to her own time, her own thoughts. Her sanctuary within her head was now clouded by serving him and her children, by worries of her children’s health and his strong arms that never held her and how she could gain his love and might be seen. Then she might feel worthy. Then she might feel like she deserves to have this man. If only he would reciprocate in some way- in any way. In eight years, no birthday presents, not one. She had no poetry, no words of her own. She should have realised when she put her pen down, that she was in big trouble.

Which led to this moment, now barely able to see the words on the phone that would fit into her pocket. Her nose almost pressed against the screen. The cat expressing a need for comfort within her lap. She woke with panicked thoughts and identified them as such. The cats, one Siamese, one large black and fluffy of the anxious variety, also sensed her panic and poured themselves like water about her person until she felt the rhythmic hum of their purring vibrating through her, until she could regulate her breath and order her jumbled thoughts once more. It was short lived however, the dog- a 15 year old Maltese cross of infinite love and adoration, blind, deaf and arthritic in her back legs stumbled along the corridor in search of somewhere to relieve herself. Her claws tapping out a wonky waltz, limping and bumping until she could hold it in no more.