WOMAN IN THE ROOM/ Beauty Reals
Although she feared that what she had to say might cause me to lose love for her, she felt it HAD to be said. She went on to say she thinks that I have a tendency to be flirtatious, which, in her opinion, shows a lack of concern for others, women especially. This a behavior she deemed vagrant and disrespectful. She insisted that each time I show this side of my personality, grievances are discussed amongst the women affected and by those claiming to have always suspected my supposed impropriety. She concluded by imploring me to change, tone it down, and be less of who I am in a room.
"I've seen you flirting with other men-many times inside your own home right in front of your husband." She persisted.
Though not wanting to appear defensive out the gate, even though her statements were demeaning and accusatory, I asked, "Can you be more specific?"
She replied, "I won’t name names. But you must understand that women disapprove of women who act like you do... I mean, look at your mother. She acts the same way: ignoring women and flirting with their men. Which is the reason women get so angry with you.” She added, “You need to be considerate of other women's feelings-it's no wonder you had a glass broken in your face."
I couldn't believe she'd gone there. At no point did she ask if I'd intentionally been disrespectful; insist that despite everything, she knew better; or suggest others get to know me before judging my every move and gesture. At no point did she offer any consolation for what I'd encountered my entire life. Furthermore, I never expected to have this conversation with this person-not in a million years.
I replied, "Let’s discuss why the women you speak of have such a problem with me. Aside from the fact they're negotiating insecurities that precede me, they were never going to like me.” At which point, I openly declared, "I've never dated any boys my friends liked, nor have I ever dated the ex-boyfriends or husbands of any woman I’d known." I tried desperately to win her back, adding, “Why should I allow another woman's insecurity with herself or an insecurity begotten from a significant another fall on my shoulders? I always consider other people’s feelings. To a fault!”
My mention of considering other people's feelings was not to toot my own horn but to stake my claim as a decent human being, sensitive and upstanding. I ended our conversation on a final note when I said, “So, I refuse to be beholden to the insecurity of another. All I ask is for the benefit of the doubt. Something I always give to others."
Unfortunately, she was unable to do so. Though I am no stranger to the confused expressions of jealous women. In the fourth grade, two girlfriends approached me one day after school. I wore a pair of Kelley green trousers and a white t-shirt that hit right above my waist. Unlike most girls my age, I had a definite shape. In fact, my first memory of others perceiving my outward appearance was in pre-school. An older gentleman, I assume an uncle type, commented on how my bottom half swayed as if I were deliberately switching, trying to attract his attention. There's no question the comment was completely inappropriate. For years to follow, I felt exposed and uncomfortable with my body.
The two girls said, "You better not wear those pants to school again. Boys are looking at your butt!"
Surprised by their anger, I grabbed my backpack and left. After talking with my mother about mean girls and jealousy, she insisted I continue to wear the pants to show I wasn’t afraid. So I did, and still, the problem persisted. I questioned if it was me who had the problem. It was as if I was wearing green trousers; I was trying to attract boys. Although the answer remains a resounding no, I found it difficult to ward off blame. The girls threatened to beat me up the next day, after school on Thursday of that week. My mother encouraged me to take them up on their offer.
I didn't want to fight, but standing up for myself was important. The next day, I showed up at school wearing pants. The girls approached me in the cafeteria, doing the most to scare me into submission. But as my mother instructed, I looked them in the eye and said, "Meet me in the playground after school."
They showed but, as is often the case, cowered at the moment. Years later, they'd apologize for their jealous behavior. I chose not to e reconcile the friendship. And for a good reason. Still, the experience taught me never to compare myself to anyone, women especially.
As it stands, my relationship with a said woman has since deteriorated. I've done a favor and distanced myself from her critical, predatory gaze. When faced with scenarios like this, I ask myself, "Do I value the woman I am in the room?" And my answer is always, "Irrevocably and unapologetically, YES.
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