Super (Exhausted) Woman

‘I’m on it!’ I bark into the headset before aggressively clicking the ‘End Call’ button on my screen. I miss having a physical phone. Aggression was so much more impacful when I could slam my receiver back to its phone holder-thing and then storm off my desk in a huff. That angry music would be playing in the background and my hair would have just that right level of bounce from this morning’s blow dry and mouse routine. The ultimate movie scene. But alas, what I’m left with a sulky scowl face (my own) and a backdrop of people who give zero shits. Welcome to corporate life – the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that we were sold when we were slaving our way through school and exams and university. Yes, I am living the fucking dream!

I’m feeling particularly rageful at life today. This whole age of emancipation is a load of shit and anyone who tells you otherwise is a lying. Here’s why:

1. So we are now ‘allowed’ to go to work and vote and sit at the desk of the corporate boardroom and voice our opinions. But that comes with the expectation of having the perfect manicure, neatly blow-dried hair and a face covered in foundation, blush and CONCEALER to achieve that perfect #nomakeuplook. It’s like entering a Miss World contest except here the intelligence requirement goes beyond pondering over a few bullshit but seemingly deep, philosophical questions. 

2. I’m done with regularly being called out for being bossy. Have they ever thought that telling you to ‘Calm down’ only makes you more irritable than is possible fathomable? Or that if they pulled their weight and did the work they were assigned, you would so calm you’d resemble the soothing sounds of the fucking waves of the ocean? 

3. It should be made clear that any sign of me being distressed generally has nothing to do with PMS (I’ve been handling that since I was 13 without any problems) and, no, my anger is not a result of my raging hormones. Pregnant or not. It’s actually because you are an incompetent imbecile.

4. We are still in the world where entertaining and hosting are primarily a woman’s domain – putting on the pretty frock and playing wifey like it’s 1920. All while being cornered by aunty this and that who doesn’t quite understand how your rockstar career (see above reference to living the dream) is ever going to leave you with time to raise children and look after your husband and do the stuff that really matters. What aunty doesn’t know is that you pay 50% of the mortgage and bought the pair of diamond earrings adorning your ears this evening. But as long as you can rock out a great roast and play the good wife, aunty doesn’t really care.

5. Statements like ‘But what took you both so long to get engaged and married?’ Forgive me but are we defining the commitment of our relationships by a chastity belt made of platinum and diamonds? And please don’t make it out to be that I was the poor, pathetic damsel in distress pinning for my man to propose every minute of every fucking day in my 29th year of existence. I was actually spending my time living, experiencing life, working (see above reference to career and living the dream) and just being content with single life and defining myself above and beyond having a diamond ring on my finger.

Upsetting isn’t it? What a terribly long way we have to go! What confuses me the most is that we’ve gone from the weaker, fairer sex to the one that holds up almost all the burden while the men have simply stood by and maybe given a cheer or a round of applause. Be that as it may, we must refuse to be beat down and own each of these little battles as they arise, calling all the bullshit out for what it really is. So go on bitches, be yourself, do your thing and own that shit like a boss. We owe it to the daughters and sons we may decide to have – to point out the double standards for what they are and push to abolish them. Here’s to a truly equal no-caveat, no bullshit seat at the table. Go girl. 

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