Getting older is hard. Especially for a woman. Appearance wise I mean.
As women,our worth is often tied to how desirable we are to men.
Perky breasts, bright eyes, supple skin.
All of that is maintained by hormones. Hormones that rely on you bleeding every month. Hormones that rely on you being of child bearing capability.
That’s what’s really attractive isn’t it?
That you can have children.
Often mistaken for “looking good”. Often mistaken historically for “a woman’s purpose.”
If that were true, anyone with the wrong chromosome, would be obsolete at age 40.
As a result, women over age 40 are seen as obsolete. That’s what my experience tells me. I’m 46, looking down the barrel of 47.
History is to blame.
You see, the importance of hunting,because it’s in your face and immediate, has stood the test of time.
Childbirth, taking time, 9 months to be exact, is a slow burn and less noticeable than something that’s immediate.
Therefore, men seem to be more impressive than women. More important.
The day to day things that keep us going are not as impressive.
I think of peacocks. The males have this flashy plumage to attract females.
But, in human culture, females are the ones with the plumage. Artificial of course, so can’t really hold any respect or power. makeup, push up bra’s, high heels….ect.
I wonder who decided this was a thing? probably a very loud voice.
Males are better and more respectable than females.
Could it be competition? Females can do something males can never do? Bear a child? Notice details?
Could it be the ideas of a loud group somewhere in time? IE, the Bible?
Perception is everything. An entire industry was built on that. Marketing.
I think the press on females has definitely improved, but I see the difference every time I venture out into the world.
Every time I work.
I’m a manager, but if there’s a male who’s also a manager, eyes and confidence go immediately to him. People are different in front of him.
I have to instill confidence to the point of annoyance. Some might roll their eyes.
Whatever.
I know I’m capable. I know I won’t have a child. But I can be instrumental. Even if it’s not recognized.