Is summer truly and really over?

I am back from my summer hiatus.  Do I feel “rejuvenated” as promised by every single American anti-aging cream?

No.  I’m Indian and I spend my vacation with my family.  “Rejuvenated” for me equates to permanent residence of Monaco, a yacht and a billion dollars.

Anywho, I’ve missed the serenity and peace of mind that comes from research and writing about Zinc Oxide.  I will recommence soon enough. But today’s blog is about self-worth and gender and you’ll see why.

SELF-WORTH

“Self-worth” is what we think of ourselves and borrowing a term from my finance days,  how we attribute “value” to ourselves.

Many men, it could be argued, have an inflated sense of self-worth.

I present to you Exhibit A:  Rahul Gandhi.  Why he ever thought he could be PM is beyond me.  Perhaps he thought a fleeting commonality with the real Gandhi would be enough.

No, Rahul we are not related

Women, derive their sense of self-worth more from external factors and social norms than men do.  In doing so, women act against their self-interest.   Our societies can hold women to an impossible standard – fair-skinned is beautiful, marriage is the only route of respectability and so on. You may think that these are far-fetched notions, but I needn’t look past my own extended family for water-tight, concrete reinforcement.

And there are double standards where women are concerned.  Look no further than Exhibit B:  Hilary Clinton, who throughout her campaign was judged against a standard that her main competitor, Donald Trump was never held-up against.

What happens when women don’t achieve these standards?  How do we begin to think outside social and/or patriarchal influence to address self-worth?

My answer is age and life experience, which I believe have given me wisdom and dare I say it, courage. 

Let me give you two recent incidents from my “Welcome Home” package that illustrate my point.  The first incident affects me (older) and the other affects Monica (ten years younger than me).

My story

My Welcome Home package was no bed of roses, as it still had thorns of chauvinism.  Nothing too serious, just the normal, unsolicited, skin crawling and blood boiling messages that creeps insist on sending you, simply because you are a woman.

Roses in Regent’s Park, from my holiday..

I was momentarily troubled by this garden variety slimy behaviour and a decade ago, I’d be stressed out.  I would ask myself, is that the message I was giving out?  Why is this happening to me?

Being older means efficient resource allocation. “Self-worth” doesn’t come into play when blocking phone numbers is easier than using UberEats (pizza anyone?). Enough said.

Monica’s story

Once upon a time, about 30 years ago, I met Monica with her crazy curly hair and her huge almond eyes.  Monica has grown-up to be everything you’d want in a child – she is unfailingly kind, hard-working and a top B school graduate.  Plus she has a je ne sais quoi about her and I see the effect she has on others when she walks into a room.

Her main flaw is an illness that has left its scars on her.  However, her boyfriend of many years couldn’t give two hoots.  His parents, have played the role of Bollywood villains to perfection and are vehemently opposed to the marriage of the lovebirds. 

However, it turns out “bad apple” genes run in the family, as Fake Romeo, recently broke up with Monica  – and I kid you not – via text citing, “with your illness, it’s too complicated” to end the relation.

Life rarely imitates The Twilight series and my Bella after 8 years has been left devastated and between the tears, I can hear her say  “I don’t understand what happened,” and “how could he be so cold?”

Monica and I were doing fine on the road to relegating Judas Iscariot (aka Fake Romeo) to the history books but yesterday, was an unmitigated disaster.

Monica began, “God is punishing me.  I didn’t appreciate what I had so he is punishing me.” 

There it was as clear as day:  doubts about self-worth.

I felt as if my ears were bleeding and this incandescent rage forced me to break my silence with, “I am sorry this man is a complete shit.  He broke up over text after 8 years and he has been leading you on.” 

“He is a sh*(t and sh**ty people, guess what, do sh*%$ty things.  Its not rocket science.”

Moral of the story

Clearly, Fake Romeo has failed to man up and Monica is collateral damage.  Monica has clearly dodged a bullet, but how do I make her see that if she insists on being deaf and blind to her identity? 

Fake Romeo is no Ram, and she needs to stop putting inadequate men on a pedestal, because she fears a future without marriage.  She is stronger than this. 

Personally, for me there are two takeaways.

1) If you are a woman don’t come to me questioning your self-worth.  

2) I am and I am enough.

The only person I get to live with every single day of my life is me and that makes me invaluable or priceless to myself. 

Monica, etch that into your psyche.

See also Coverage of women by women, Your victory is my victory, High heels in the workplace

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Happy Skin Days ©  2021.  © Angeli Sinha 2021. All rights reserved. The contents of this blog, including images are protected by copyright law.  My content cannot be replicated without my consent. You can write to me at email@happyskindays.com

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