Much of how we see ourselves has to do with how our particular social self is supposed to be perceived in our environment, plus our own acceptance, unacceptance and/or perception of it. In a world where we do meet with adversity, and where discrimination by sex/gender is rife from both sides, it is important to remember that the choice is ours. How we perceive ourselves, including our perceptions of vulnerability, are to great extent our own.
By that, I am by no means trying to victim shame. If anything, experience teaches us that victimisation is very real… and that it can happen to anyone, regardless of sex/gender/sexual orientation/colour/race/age/etc..
To that extent, I propose the two-fold approach – continued fight for equality everywhere in the world (and I mean equality!) and personal skills.
To many women, this is a repulsive thought. Many will probably go up in arms right now if reading this, claiming that there should be no need for this.
I agree. In a perfect world, we would all be walking around without fear, and I don’t just mean women. Everyone would get along. Sun would shine all the time. We’d get just the right amount of rain. There would be no pollution. And unicorns would sell sparkly rainbow ice-cream with little cherries on top.
But because we do NOT live in a perfect world, it’s high time to get real about safety. In many ways, it is up to ourselves. Just like you learn how to drive safely, just like you learn about first aid, knowing your self-defence is crucial to your safety and survival. As is your perception of self, REGARDLESS of what we are taught about our gender.
In fluid societies, the perception of gender is generally less entrenched than in rigid. Nevertheless, the divide can be persistent. Very early on, we dress girls like princesses and boys like princes, and only one has a sword and the power of rescue.
We limit ourselves in what we think we can do – by worrying about being too bulky if we are to become stronger, by being convinced that a woman cannot be effective in her self-defence, by limiting ourselves in the studies we take, the careers we pursue, the promotions we are too humble and uncertain to ask for. Our mothers, aunts and other female relatives often confirm this feeling of powerlessness, and many men do not challenge it, or do not challenge it enough.
At the end of the day, it’s all in our heads. Change can only come when we persist in pursuing it. Actively. Tirelessly. Without fear of restrictions. Without fearing the distaste of people who will not like it. You cannot bargain your safety, happiness, freedom this way. There will always be those who will form opposition. There will always be adversity. But even the elderly, ill and disabled have forms of martial arts that they can go to… I know this, because my sifu taught specific classes just for disabled children.
At the same time, we must close our ears to the depressing rhetoric. Often, feminism is guilty of oversimplification. All men are dangerous. All women are safe.
(As someone who experienced abuse and help from both in equal measure, I beg to differ.)
All men think about is sex. All women think about is how terrified they are.
And so on.
This is the rhetoric that, especially coming from a group that is apparently set on helping women, is like a whiplash of depression to all those who need encouragement to grow into people capable of fending for themselves. This is a form of childification. You are nothing. You are unsafe. You can do nothing about it.
How is that ever going to make a person stand up for themselves? Unless they reject this rhetoric as well? (Guilty. 😉 )
When a woman is attacked and saves herself, when she succeeds in a dashing self-rescue, she should be looked up to. Set up as an example. Applauded.
Instead, majority of women will wail about it as if she hadn’t just saved the day. Her success will be erased in light of a cautionary tale.
You see? You are a princess. Helpless. In need of rescue. And guess what, the prince just turned out to be an ogre himself.
Men who act like gentlemen are also omitted from the tales, or are dismissed as having “seen the light”. That is not true equality.
And it is most certainly not how you make yourself feel safe, and how you become safe by knowing how to protect yourself.
Not merely by puny little tricks (that your attackers know), such as faking a phone convo, or pretending you’re close to home. Most attackers are stalkers. Very few attacks happen spontaneously. Chances are the attacker knows where you live, how you go about your day and what you like for supper.
Instead, it is crucial to learn to kick butt. Stop waiting for others to save you. Save yourself.
One of the tricks my WW2 surviving ex-intelligence grandmother taught me was to hold the keys firmly in your hand with the points sticking out. If attacked, you have a makeshift weapon. This is the minimum of what you must know. Even better – go learn self-defence. I simply cannot state this strongly enough.
I have heard whoppers about how “it is better to be a victim… because if everyone in the world did martial arts, everyone would be soooo violent…!”
Just don’t. Excuses are great, but they are still excuses.
Vast majority of people who have martial arts skills are non-violent. They live by a code of conduct that does not excuse violence. The few that don’t? Last I looked, they were dangerous whether or not you knew how to defend yourself, but in one scenario, you stood a fighting chance. Literally.
The second thing to learn is to actually discern danger from shall we say llama.
To this effect, I’ll share a personal story that happened literally just today, and that actually caused me to write this article.
OH ordered more cat sand in the last few days, and we weren’t sure when it would arrive. As I work from home, I’m usually the one to wait for all deliveries, but times can vary a lot, with most of them happening around 12.
I got up a bit later than usual, and then I spent ages on the phone, because one of our cats (who has an immunity problem) is seriously ill, so I was being a good cat mom and calling all kinds of vets for information and help.
After over an hour of calling, I decided to do my workout anyway. Working out when stressed and worried refocuses you. It gives you something to actively work against. It’s practically cathartic to drip in sweat on the hard floor (poor ill kitty was sleeping in the rolled up yoga mats, and I damn well was not going to disturb him for this!) until you are breathless. It clears your mind and soothes your emotions. In other words, it is what we are made for. The fight of the fight and flight.
Having cats (…lots of…) means that there is always fur. No matter how much you hoover, there will always be a few escaped fluffs around your home. When you are on the floor, sticky from sweat, you will effectively do a better job than the hoover, because all this will stick to you.
After I was finished, I decided to take a quick shower, because I looked a little bit too fuzzy and insane to open the door for a delivery. Thinking I had time, I went into the bathroom and got under the shower.
About two minutes in, our angry-hornet-on-steroids doorbell (and I’m not kidding with the description) rang.
Out I bolted, dripping water all over the place (but thankfully no longer resembling a nascent werewolf), rushing to the bedroom to grab the nearest housecoat. Which, conveniently, was lacking the belt.
As I didn’t have time to look, I simply grabbed my keys and went to get the delivery.
Our delivery guy is a man in his late forties to fifties. When he saw me, wet and wrapped up as I was, he was somewhat amused, but apologised more than once for disturbing me. I signed the delivery note, he placed the box in front of the door and – after apologising again – left. I then took it inside (and finished my shower).
I have come across the quote that a man in a room full of women is ecstatic while a woman in a room full of men is terrified.
As a woman, I can honestly say that I missed the memo on this one.
I have never been terrified, not in a room full of men nor when meeting one, after dark or otherwise.
Having had to defend myself way before I even knew how, when I was about twelve, and my attacker was a huge guy in his late teens early twenties (who had bee “hired” by a bunch of girls in my school, girls who were themselves victims of constant sexual harassment and abuse), has obviously done nothing for that, nor has my conservative upbringing. Or the victim shaming I have had imposed on me, despite my having been successful in my defence, and having been pretty much a child.
If anything, it has taught me to reject stereotypes. This quote presupposes heterosexuality. It presupposes evil. It presupposes that all men are confident and all women are vulnerable. In short, it teaches you – for many reaffirming cultural, religious, social and domestic norm – that a woman can never be safe and feel safe.
Well, I beg to differ.