Strong, independent woman?

So, last night I blogged about parental alienation.  After writing that blog post, I started thinking about me. About how all this came about.  I thought about the concept of “mother”.  I almost had a poem in my head……..I don’t do poetry.  I’m keeping that one in my head at the moment.  It will be called “mother”, and I might finish writing it in my head, whereupon it will appear in writing, somewhere.

I was thinking about how an intelligent, strong, independent woman ends up in the weak and feeble position I have found myself in.  That position where you frustrate the hell out of yourself because you’re a mug; you’re walked all over; you’re a doormat; you are…….the “little woman”. Eugh. That’s horrible.  Even for someone with limited feminist tendencies (yes, we should all be equal until something heavy comes along that I can’t lift).

I used to say that inside every strong, independent woman was a little woman screaming to get out.  We’ve all done it you know – made a cup of tea for our partner.  Cooked him dinner.  Massaged his neck/back/shoulders when he aches.  Brought him breakfast in bed. Washed his clothes. Ironed his shirt.  How many of us can hold our hands up and say “no, I’ve NEVER done any of those things for my partner”.  I call bollocks on it if you do.  But there’s nothing wrong with doing those things for your partner.  Yes, I do all those things for my partner.  But he’ll do things in return for me……not ironing though. He’s rubbish at that.  But he is the clean, tidy one of our oddball relationship.  He’s better at it than me.  I hoard.  I create clutter.  I hate housework. 

Anyway, I digress, slightly.  I was brought up to be independent – that was very much my mother’s gift to us.  My sister did realise a few years ago that although we are independent, we do need our Mummy, and she told our mum that we needed her.  I’m glad she did that, because I know I was so wrapped up in myself at the time, I just carried on trying to deal with everything that life throws at me.  That is my way.  That is how I was brought up.  Being strong, independent and a woman is ace.  Being intelligent with it is even better.  You know your own mind.  You speak your own mind.  You do things the way you want to do them and sod everyone else….

Ah, but wait just a minute.  This all works great until you become “mother”.  Until you change your role in the world. And it does change.  Let’s be realistic. It TOTALLY changes.  You may be a lioness, but inside, your little woman is trying desperately to do what is right by your children. And that can sometimes result in you being taken advantage of; being walked over; being a doormat.  If your children’s father is a master manipulator, things are done carefully, so as to make you feel like if you say NO, you are being unreasonable, and you will damage your children.

That’s how I ended up in this situation.  It isn’t because I’m weak.  It isn’t because I’m pathetic.  It is something that takes over me.  I think that something must be some kind of maternal instinct.  It’s a bit up its arse though.  The instinct there to protect your children, which results in them possibly being damaged?  Or maybe that “damage” that has been, or is being done will make them into stronger, more independent women themselves?

I’ve had some extremely supportive comments from last night’s blog post, and for that I thank you all – you’re all amazing strong, independent women.

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