Navigating societal expectations as a woman is akin to walking a tightrope, where every step must be measured against an elusive standard of palatability. Isn’t it frustrating how women have to be palatable even when speaking up against injustices? Or look pretty while simply existing? Why does a woman need to be reasonable and agreeable all the time, even when things aren’t going her way?
Growing up, I was called stubborn, talkative and even bossy by well-meaning adults like my teachers and parents for being an outspoken girl. I’ve always been quite candid and straightforward, and while this can be detrimental sometimes, it’s still who I am. It’s infuriating how women are expected to embody traits like niceness while men are celebrated for their deviation from these norms. For real, what’s so girly about being nice? Being a good person is an important moral lesson, but that wasn’t what I was being told to do. The disparity I noticed underscores a deeper issue: the policing of women’s behaviour to fit into a predetermined mould.
I like being messy and chaotic. I suspect that so do most other women. They just don’t speak about it. Well- with some exceptions. Like Phoebe Waller-Bridge, the creator of Fleabag, whose authentic and refreshing openness led to a show that’s raw, real and funny. Fleabag, the protagonist, resonates with women because of how complex she is. She isn’t necessarily good or nice, but she is undeniably real and multifaceted. Because news flash: women are people too.
I’m attracted to reading about women that aren’t put-together because the notion makes society uncomfortable. It feels like a woman can’t be mentally ill or sad if she doesn’t do it in a way that is digestible by the patriarchy. Female rage fiction is visceral and cathartic, serving as a powerful outlet for expressing emotions that are often suppressed or dismissed in women. I think anger remains an unacceptable emotion for women to show due to it being the primary defence against the injustices of patriarchy.
‘Nightbitch’ by Rachel Yoder is my Roman empire precisely because of its flawless execution of female rage. The story follows an unnamed protagonist who begins to feel suffocated by the demands and expectations of her role as a stay-at-home mom. As she grapples with feelings of frustration and a loss of self, she starts to undergo a bizarre physical transformation, gradually becoming more animalistic and primal. It’s a quite uncomfortable and gross story to read. I love it so much.
A closely related and often overlapping theme is women’s madness. This is a madness driven by a sense of disillusionment with a world that’s often miserable for women to live in. Books like ‘The Vegetarian’ by Han Kang as well as “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” by Ottessa Moshfegh capture this paradigm perfectly. The latter went viral online with women because of how real it is. The protagonist of “My Year of Rest and Relaxation” serves as a striking contrast to the archetype of female rage; she embodies what I would describe as female sloth.
What I find funny is that the reactions to these types of media are often complaints of feeling uncomfortable or that the characters are bad people. That’s the whole point. Empowerment can’t be cookie-cutter perfect all the time. It’s distressing to maintain palatability on top of all the stuff we face. Gosh, I often find myself tearing apart my writing style—it’s far from refined and more of an unconscious flow of rants—because I worry my message isn’t coming across clearly. That’s a meta example of palatability.
Another double standard I’ve often pondered over is that to do with grossness. Admittedly this is reinforced by women ourselves, perhaps for a good reason, but it is a double standard nonetheless. The fact that men can freely embrace and joke about their grossness while women are expected to maintain a facade of pleasantness perpetuates the idea that women must constantly cater to others’ comfort. While my ideal world would see everyone striving for a higher standard of hygiene and etiquette as a sign of true gender equality, I see why gross women are subversive. Stereotypes surrounding women’s grossness extend even to natural bodily processes like menstruation and body hair growth, which are typically deemed taboo or shameful. Examples abound, from sanitary pad ads using blue liquid instead of blood to hair removal product ads portraying legs as already bare in the “before” phase. We feel the need to sanitise normal bodily functions too.
What’s clear is that women’s crassness isn’t tolerated in many forms, while for men it’s lauded. While this need not be the forefront of the feminist movement and isn’t our biggest challenge, it is nevertheless important to let women be our authentic, messy selves. The societal expectations imposed upon women to conform to narrow standards of behaviour, appearance, and expression perpetuate harmful double standards. Whether it’s the pressure to maintain palatability, the dismissal of female rage, or the stigmatisation of women’s “grossness,” these expectations hinder women from embracing their authentic selves. True equality cannot be achieved until women are allowed to express themselves authentically, without fear of judgement or retribution.