I was just reading about Betty Friedan, the author of The Feminine Mystique, who passed away a year ago. If you’d care to read an interesting perspective of Ms. Friedan, go to Time Goes By, and click on the link.
My last semester as a senior in college, I had the opportunity to take a class on the rising issue of feminism, and Ms. Friedan’s book was used as one of the starting points for discussion. I graduated in 1970 feeling that in the next few years we would have the world turned around (and cleaned up…but that’s another story), and all would be right.
I’ve watched the changes that have come over the past thirty-six years. Some of them have been astonishingly good, and others we could have left by the side. Of course, I’ve come to understand a great deal more about the working of the world in the intervening years. The first thing that became clear to me was that change does not occur overnight. I still have high hopes for the feminist movement. Anything that helps a woman to be a strong, independent, thinking person has to be good.
As I started my career as a grade school band director, I had the feeling that I was invincible! I believed that we (read: I) could accomplish anything we set out to do. I carried that belief for a number of years. Then I chose to set that particular career aside, and moved on to one where I was going to be out of the public eye. Actually, I volunteered for a career that is very much like being a mushroom.
I realized this weekend that I am in a position where virtually every choice I make in life is questioned. I am an office. My bosses or the CPA or the financial planner, the Feds or the insurance people are always looking over my shoulder, asking if such and such is done. When I make plans for my husband and my mother to go to dinner, or an activity, I’m second-guessed about the restaurant, the time to go and how to get there. It’s impossible to set a date for a family activity, and assume that it will take place without compromise or complaint. When it comes time to travel, I am merely the typist at the keyboard making the reservations, not the person making the choices about times and activities. My mother frequently objects to the meals I plan, and now some of my siblings feel that I have made poor choices on a family matter.
When did I loose the self-assuredness that I had as a young woman? Was it when I chose to help my husband and care for my mother? Did my self-confidence evaporate because I’ve chosen a quiet, backwater life? Have I made an error in trying to please most of the people most of the time? Is it necessary to disregard the feelings or interests of others in order to have a happier life for yourself? When you make the choice not to be rude to someone, does that broadcast to them that your opinions are not worthy of consideration?
I’d like to lay the blame for this at someone else’s feet, but the truth is, I think it’s my fault that this change has come about. But, I haven’t thought through this sufficiently to see what steps I need to take to regain that sense of self that makes me feel I can function in the larger world.
I’m sure we all question ourselves from time to time. As we mature, we change. Perhaps one of my errors is a confusion between “aging” and “maturing.” I hope that I’ve matured, and not merely gotten older.
I need the freedom to make my own choices. I don’t mind the idea that I’ll have to take responsibility for those choices, but I don’t care to live the rest of my life so that everyone else is happy, but I’m not.
Is this a question of selfishness? Or, do you at some point, to stay healthy and sane, have to lead your own life? That may be the big question for me.
Have you hit this wall? How did you cope with it?