On women, money, and shame…

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Last week I read an excellent article in Harper’s Bazaar about the culture of shame that still surrounds women and the money they spend on… well… basically anything that brings them pleasure.  Read it and ponder.  It resonated deeply with me, as I have become more and more aware this in my own life over the last several months.

I began musing over the fact that for years I have enjoyed nice accessories — handbags in particular, but also shoes or the occasional pretty wallet.  It is my one thing I splurge on, but thanks to the intense judgement of women and how they spend their money, I realize now that my enjoyment of them has consistently been tainted by the perception that I have been judged by others for that enjoyment.  In some ways, it it very easy to dismiss that feeling as me “just being sensitive” and “caring too much what others think.”  However, I think that kind of dismissal is an insidious form of gaslighting that ignores the real issue: women are consistently shamed for anything that brings them pleasure, whether it is sex, food, jewelry, a handbag, or even just a few minutes of time to relax.  The stigma attached to female pleasure — that it is decadent, unnecessary, overly indulgent, materialistic, or any number of other negative adjectives — is very real, with very real ramifications.  Jennifer Wright hit the issue square on with her observation that “monitoring what a woman spends her money on represents a new, sophisticated way of infantilizing women and reminding them that they’re too silly to know what is good for them.”

While I knew I was uncomfortable when people commented on my handbags, whether it was an offhand compliment or an observation that I must have quite a collection, I was not aware of how much I had internalized this cultural insistence on shame.  Spending money on myself was somehow shameful.  Everything must have utility attached, or it is egregiously indulgent.  A compliment as innocuous as “cute jacket!” might come my way, and I would reply how warm it was, because heaven forbid I just think it was pretty, or even worse, think I looked pretty in it.  Then I would be wasteful AND vain.  And overly self-indulgent.  And a drain on my husband and our household.  Clearly.

Nothing has crystallized this double standard of men and women and the perception of the money they spend than the recent experience of buying a new (to us) car a couple months ago.  My husband and I were both excited, but while he told friends and colleagues about it delightedly, I found I was embarrassed to even mention it to my closest friends.  Now I know exactly why that is: because it is socially acceptable for a man to spend money for enjoyment; for women, it is anathema.  Never mind that we had very practical reasons for our decision; a nicer car means high-fives for a man, and assumptions about gold-digging or materialism for a woman.  Rich or poor, women cannot seem to escape the toxic message that they need to enjoy less, take up less space, streamline their spending, take pleasure in less.

“If you can afford it, and it brings you a bit of joy, there is no reason to feel ashamed,” Wright tells us.  While it will be a long road until I can fully live this way, knowledge and working towards better is a good place to start.  As women we can rein in the ingrained habit of judging each other — and the even deeper habit of judging ourselves — one day at a time.

Friday!

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“Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o’clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.”

–Barbara Jordan

Between my dogs and this very blissed-out San Francisco sea lion, I have some prime examples of napping done right.  Here’s to a weekend full of naps, cheesecake, and R&R.

On birthdays…

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One of the dearest people in my life has a birthday today (happy birthday to you!), which has me musing about birthdays, and the nature of growing.  Growing older.  Growing wiser.  Growing happier.  Growing up?  Do we ever really grow up?  These days, at least, I feel like I am stretching and growing into the woman I want to be.  It is not easy, though, I must admit.  Growth and change are never easy or comfortable, but I try to remember that those are the things can move us forward to new places, to new realizations, and even to new joys.  Shedding the self-doubts, embracing the imperfections, trying to make a difference in the face of injustice — these are the difficult, but worthy, parts of the journey.

New Year’s Day comes flooded with resolutions, good intentions, and reflections on the old year, but I think birthdays can be much more personal waypoints for introspection and new intentions.  There is no external pressure to make a NEW YOU and improve ALL THE THINGS the way there is at New Year’s — just you and your own personal new chapter, a new year of you, and perhaps some loved ones to celebrate with as you turn that page.

I won’t pretend that I am there yet, wherever “there” might be.  I’ll keep trying to learn and grow and be as me as I can muster, discomfort and all.  But in the meantime, I can surround myself with people I trust, bake an amazing birthday cake, and celebrate another year in the life of someone special.

One of the most decadently delightful cakes I have made is this peanut butter chocolate stunner from Smitten Kitchen.  Make it for someone you care about (even yourself!), and enjoy wholeheartedly.  Relish that birthday, and the person you are becoming.

Puppy love

 

This Monday I am musing over how grateful I am for my two dogs.  They love unconditionally, trustingly… it is so sweet and comforting to have their warm furry presence by my side.

It might sound a bit cliché, but I think if we could all learn more from dogs, the world would be a brighter place.

  • Trust more.
  • Love more.
  • Nap more.
  • Take joy in the little things.
  • Live in the moment.
  • Savor what you are given.
  • Make your pack your priority.
  • Take a walk every day.
  • Be unabashed about showing your love.

Even just the amount of naps they take is #goals, but the rest of the list is full of things I want to remember every day.  Puppy love, indeed.

 

A displaced Parisienne

Despite cute new boots, tons of February sunshine, and some thought-provoking Joan Didion essays on my mind (currently reading The White Album), I’m missing Paris today.  Call it a mild case of the Monday blues, I suppose?  There are always those places you feel drawn to — a childhood street or coffee shop with fond memories.  Others tug at your sense of place inexplicably, greeting you with open arms and a sense of belonging even though you are a newcomer.  In that way Paris is my “heart-home,” and for me there is nothing quite like the feeling of emerging from the Metro into the streets above.  Je t’aime, Paris.