envy

i find it easier to have friends who are men, because so many relationships with women have been characterized by jealousy and envy. i wish my friendships with women were stronger. i would never say, "i'm not like those girls" - but somehow i find myself in friendships with women who are "not like those other girls", although they have internalized liberal feminism to the point where they too would never put it that way. i can't escape the feeling that i am the girl they are not like. i find myself ricocheting from preferring men to preferring women, in friendships, romance, work. at least with men there is no illusion of equality. in good connections with men, there is equanimity. but with women, there is always the illusion of equality amongst the in-group, while picking apart women outside of it. the gossip and the judgement is a slow creeping fog that chills my heart and grips my throat. i am all too aware of how easy it would be for me to be on the other side of that boundary, to be the other girl. i think, well, i probably am when i'm not around my critical friends.

often i feel like my inclusion is contingent on being some arcane mix of self-effacing (denying some strengths) but also apologising (for strengths it would be unbecoming to deny, strengths that are privileges, with all the loadedness of the term now in our woke times). for me there is no easy solution to this, because in times i was more self-confident, i was called arrogant. to be fair, i was arrogant. i do believe in being modest and growing up as taught me a deep empathy that i try to cultivate as a political endeavour. how do i return to the self-confidence of youth when i am so sensitive to being misunderstood, othered?

it hurts me when women are jealous or envious of me because my own mother was jealous of me. i physically matured quite young, and i am rather voluptuous. i have a pretty face. she was always concerned that each successive husband would rape me, and though none did, each successive husband and i would eventually turn to each other for emotional support to deal with my mother. i learned to bond with men over "crazy women".

i am attractive and i am smart. learning and knowledge are important to me, and to my identity. it seems quite difficult for women especially to be smart and attractive and not to efface one or the other quality. i've never been interested in that and so people, but for my purposes here, women, find me intimidating, and envy me. it's extremely alienating. i understand that both are gifts, that i am lucky in a sense, but neither matter very much to me now in my 30s. what matters to me in my life is what i have struggled most for, namely, my own psychological healing and ability to love and be vulnerable in my relationship. maybe i have taken my gifts for granted, but they have never brought me happiness or fulfillment.

the alienation is something i have struggled with since my teenage years. i clearly remember writing in my journal about this, but not having concise words for it. i spent a lot of time wondering why everyone looked down on me or looked up at me, why i never felt like anyone was willing to engage with me with the kinds of vulnerability and support and healthy criticism that i desperately wanted. although i have my partner, who makes me feel seen and understood, i find those moments few and far between outside of my relationship.

i am still young and beautiful and i don't think i should squander it. i love to dress slutty and wear a lot of makeup and go to the beach and wear as little as possible, but i have so few friends who want that. i have spent so much of my life feeling ashamed of my looks because of other people's reactions to my body. my family who told me i should get a breast reduction, that i shouldn't wear what every other girl my age wore because my body is inherently obscene, the school administrators who told me to cover my body at nine years old. the women my whole life who have warned me about men's violence and perversion (certainly a very large problem socially) have mostly made me feel like i was violent and perverted for wanting sex. i have cried many times over my obscene body and perverse mind, thinking, i must be a man to want pleasure, i must be a man to flirt, i must be a man to want these unspeakable things, so i must cut out that which is offensive on my body, i must bind my chest, i must starve myself, i must transition away from the body that makes women fundamentally distrust and dislike me, i must embody the confession of my essential wrongness by becoming a man.

and the longer i work in a male-dominated industry where my skill and intellect is in question, the more i have dumbed myself down not to challenge them. i cannot be intelligent and sexy. i would lose my social network, i would lose my job.

i can't help but take it personally when i go to the beach and my friend is personally affronted by the thong bikini trend. because she feels pressured to join. i think, no one is asking you to. i think, will you talk about me this way if i wear a thong on the beach? or do i have to cover up, like i have always had to cover up? i compliment you when you look good and you never compliment me. when i admit to you the things i am struggling with, places i am trying to improve, you said, oh i don't think that's true about you. i am telling you what is true about me. i'm telling you what i value. you say, those values are wrong. i say, i am struggling to do this thing. you said, oh, i don't even try. you one up me, you resent me. the conversation turns, i see your insecurity and i begin to try to fill the hole because i assume that's what you want - you want reassurance but you can't ask for it. you want me to be closer to failure but you don't say it outright. you want me to care less about my appearance, put in less effort, because you are insecure, you feel you look bad in comparison. i don't care what god gave you. it's about what you do with it. i am done doing my best not to enjoy my body. i am done pretending i don't want to be admired. i am done apologising for what i cannot control in my one fleeting life, that i am beautiful and healthy and i love to dress up. i love to look hot. i want to look like those girls in the magazines. i want to be alluring and sensual, i want to be powerful and confident. i don't want to hide myself away to make other people uncomfortable. i am so so tired of backhanded compliments, so tired of, oh you got pretty dressed up, i'm just such a slob. when excuse me? a stretchy dress? is about as comfortable as it gets for me. i wish i was stronger, that i had better boundaries, that i didn't let in your negativity, but i am so sensitive. i hate it, i hate being sensitive. when you speak badly about yourself and others, it tells me i am unsafe. that i must also apologise for being myself when i cannot hide who i am, and that as much as possible, i will hide myself.

return

(c) 2022 delphi déshabille