“For so long I felt that it was about being part of a boy’s club. And now it’s about being part of a girl’s club PROUDLY and feeling power in that. For so long I felt if I can prove that I can ‘hang with the guys’ then I will be more powerful. That really shifted for me over the past couple of years. It came down to who my collaborators are, who my representatives are—I signed with an incredible female agent […] It’s not about ‘getting in with the dudes,’ it’s about finding a woman who totally believes in you and understands your situation, and can actually empower you in a real way.” — Olivia Wilde.
DISCLAIMER: I’M NOT JUMPING ON AN ANTI-MALE BANDWAGON. Never fear. I actually echo Cher* on this one in that I adore men and think they are just the coolest! But back when I was a younger woman, some of that adoration shape-shifted into something more like compliance masking a lack of knowledge about the veracious power women contain. Olivia Wilde’s discussion** at the Makers conference earlier this year articulated this phenomenon for me in a way I hadn’t acknowledged before; the mistaken feeling that the only way to step into power as a woman is to behave more like a man, and to be accepted without issue by your male counterparts.
Unfortunately, this misinterpretation of the origins and definitions of genuine power led me frequently (and ironically) to quell my instincts in favour of appeasing the males in the room. To be labelled ‘one of the lads’ was a compliment. To have them confide in you when it came to their ‘girl drama’—me mirroring their eye rolls and sympathizing with their pain of dealing with all these ‘crazy women’—was emboldening. At the time, their approval made me feel akin to the only kind of power I thought was available to me. And it felt great. But it was codependent; reliant on the whims of the men involved and therefore completely unsustainable from my own standpoint.
As I matured and began to exponentially experience the debilitating effects of living and working amongst inescapably patriarchal dynamics, I was thrust into an uncomfortable position; I realized I couldn’t justifiably direct a lifetime’s worth of emerging anger exclusively towards the men I felt exploited by, I had to direct a certain amount of it towards myself—I was part of the problem. In an effort to ride the coat-tails of male power and imagine it as my own three piece suit, I had not only denied my fellow women, I had denied myself the opportunity to engage with and develop my existing, essential, female power. The only power I ever needed. And the only power that would serve me (and others) for life.
Reflecting on my early collusions with even subtly disrespectful, misogynistic, male-led interactions, I now have the benefit of perspective to see how enabling conversations that are reductive to women is a two-fold disservice: it diminishes the woman’s sense of her own value, while simultaneously emboldening the male’s sense of his own value and encouraging further interactions of a similar, delusional calibre.
I take responsibility for my role in co-creating a landscape I no longer want to cultivate, while attempting to compassionately bear in mind my lack of control over the cultural framework and social tone that accompanied my upbringing. But the zeitgeist has shifted. I am so appreciative of the women who have made themselves known, expressed their viewpoints, and told their stories without trying to please the men in the room. I am learning from them. I am learning to have courage when it comes to challenging exchanges, and remembering that change always induces a little shakiness. I am learning to appreciate the real women in my life, not in comparison to any men, but as stand-alone wonders.
I continue to adore (some) men. But I’m also readjusting my stance on the importance, pleasure, and power inherent in cultivating robust relationships specifically with my female counterparts; the women who show me, daily, how exquisite it can be to express the gift of your unique, intrinsic combination of strength and insight, and not simply to replicate someone else’s.
It’s not an act of defiance against men. If anything, it’s a recognition of what I’ve learned from them; that we don’t need to be apologetic about what what is asking to be expressed. That we can reach for what we want without fear of disapproval. And that, ultimately, muting the voice of half the choir will only ruin the music for everyone.
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* Original Cher comment: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FfApyVItZo
** Full discussion between Wilde and Katie Couric: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFJ7MsQZvLw