Stupid idiot
What a cretin
Show off
Fucking awful hair
Who does she think she is?
These are examples of things my inner critic has said to me this week.
These are also things that I would routinely think when I see other women.
I might be browsing online and see their post.
Or I might be standing behind them in the bus queue.
Or I might see something they’ve said on WhatsApp.
The thing is from an early age women are raised to compete with one another. When I was growing up my relationships with other women, with my female friends were often problematic.
I would say that I loved my friends very much. I also (at times) hated them very much. There was competition. This started when we went out to clubs and fancied the same men (often the bad boys- the ones in leather trousers who didn’t wash often). And then later it happened when they got bigger cars and houses. There is then a certain gleefulness sometimes when things fuck up for these friends. It’s not nice. It’s that thought that comes into your head after the one that feels empathy that goes - Thank Fuck she’s got something wrong and her life is terrible for a while. I can’t deal with her being so successful and happy anymore.
Even today I was in a bad mood and I spotted someone (a woman I knew vaguely) and my head was full of the most powerful and revolting levels of venom. I didn’t have anything I could critique about her so I went for her trousers and the fact that they were too unflattering. This is from a woman (me) that always wears unflattering trousers and this has become my USP in life. I know I am not alone in thinking unkind thoughts. The hate that we experience from certain segments of society (boys/men/culture/everyone) we turn onto ourselves and can also project onto other women.
(Let me be clear here though. This is NOT about wishing harm on women. No woman ever wishes that for another - or certainly no woman I know).
When I’m content and going through a good patch. When I’m sleeping. My kids are happy. When my face doesn’t look like a sack of marbles. When I have eaten. When I am not worried about money. Well then the hate tends to dry up and I have room to be more empathetic instead of envious.
The tired, messed up version of me is truly horrible though.
Think back to your experiences- I’m thinking about contexts like work for example. Haven’t you directed a lot of ire towards one particular women? Why do you think you hated them? Was it perhaps because they acted in ways that you yourself were too scared to? Were they not conforming? Did you feel envy?
Envy that they were achieving more than you, saying and doing the things you wanted to do.
A couple of years ago there was an infamous scandal on Instagram where a well known influencer was exposed to be a bit of a horrible gossip (and more shocking allegations that I won't go into here). At the time I was part of that world (like a tiny, butler to a big influencer), and was amazed at how quickly the tide turned when it came to this one woman who was one week - THE MOST BELOVED OF MUM INFLUENCERS IN THE WORLD to the most hated woman on Instagram. Okay I am exaggerating but also I’m not.
I was in White City House one day like a typical butler to a big influencer who is hoping to raise her profile and got sucked into a little crowd of influencers who ripped this woman apart. She was a bitch. She was abhorrent. She was the worst woman and yes her hair was too fine too. These were this woman’s friends and yet they launched into her as if they were a pride of lionesses tucking into a giant plate of freshly killed Zebra.
Huh how funny, I thought. These women really do hate one another.
Then I thought about my own thought processes, and the hateful things I projected onto other women and felt shame. I kind of hated women too. I hated these influencer women for sure. I also hated every person in White City House (that’s a different story though). It was the sheer fakery of this social media sisterhood that pissed me off. Nobody liked one another. It was a hothouse of competition. It was worse than anything I’d experienced when I was getting off with men in leather trousers who didn’t wash.
NB: Can I actually say that I am open to offers of membership to White City House but do actually hate most people in there because they are generally pretty much tossers right?
I don’t of course hate women. I hate myself. Sometimes. And part of the struggle with growing older is recognising the patterns in yourself and others. Recognising the patriarchy has set certain expectations in place. To also remember that envy is natural and often a useful tool that points towards what you want more of in your life. More leather trousers. More success. More light. A bit more White City House energy but not too much.
Also accepting the concept that there is enough of that to go around.
Mum influencers are also a rough crowd. Don’t get on the wrong side of them. Believe me.