It was Woman`s Day the other day. 8th of March. I must admit, I feel bad for not participating in any march, protest or partition. And clearly, I have a lot to be angry about. So there`s really no legitimate reason why I didn`t collect my trainers and black marker. Definitely a shortcoming I`ll make up for, next year.
Surely, I feel a bit obligated now that I`m in charge of my own household. Or as I`ve become an adult, you might say. A role model, more or less (At least for my children, I hope. That`s as far as my ambition goes). I was angry before, as well. However, my temper, engagement and sense of justice have increased quite a bit throughout the years. Probably not the most common development- curve out there, but that`s the reality of it. And I shouldn`t just get fired up at home. I should have been all fired up, and then; I should`ve run off to show it! I should have marched down the main street. I should have cried out, screamed and shouted, alongside fellow sisters. I should have carried banners. I should have cursed, and looked furious. I should have been crossed all day. I should have discussed with each and every one I met. Staying home in order to see one Kardashian- sister visiting the other, probably wasn`t the best reason. Your marker being all hoodless and dry, probably wasn`t going to convince anyone either. I should have been to Clas Ohlson in advance. If I was a proper Redstocking, I should`ve been to Clas Ohlson in the weekend.
Still, I consider myself a Redstocking. Absolutely. I can`t picture it any other way. That would seem both sad and self- destructive, in my opinion. Also, a peculiar paradox. Perhaps I am a Redstocking without structure, but none the less a woman`s rights activist. Perhaps I am a stocking without an impressive collection of pen markers, but still reasoned and worried. And clearly, I should have hold posters. I should have marched down streets.
The good news, though, is that I did my part tonight. Then, I was both angry, livid and quite the daredevil. I really was standing up for myself. Not only myself. I acted on behalf of all my sisters out there. Pre, post and during my own time- period. Or reign, if you`d like. It felt nice to do so. Significant and quite important, also. I was completely sweatsoaked as I woke up, but it was for a good cause. And for a good cause, I`m willing to sacrifice blood, sweat and tears.
I was at the store. In my dream, that is, I was doing some grocery- shopping. Since this is a place you`re likely to spend a fair amount of time at, it made all the sense in the world. The local areas are the perfect spots to observe the social norms in society. The culture. In the public, the acceptable group conduct will show. In the privacy of people`s homes, you might find the extreme, the furthermost. However, out and about, amongst the people, you`re more likely to find the “truth”. The common ground. Amongst the masses and in the diversity of society, you`ll find the average. The intermediate. At Rema 1000 («Tesco») tonight, there were both masses, and a lot of culture taking place. There was a lot of culture to overcome. A lot to confront, I must say.
I love running errands on Women`s Day. It`s the best day, without doubt. It`s a pleasant day. Relaxing, and not to mention; liberating. It`s something you look forward to, weeks in advance. It`s like snuggling up in the sofa, while getting things done. It`s partly about hygiene. It`s about exterior and appearances. Time- saving stuff. It`s about activities that are completely irrelevant, on these specific days. Matters that might complicate messages from coming through. It might interfere and disturb the important process of the notification you want to communicate. Clearly, you don`t want that.
It`s about showering.
About soap.
It`s about how you should avoid it.
I mean, for me personally, there`s this ground rule. I never shower before, during or after Women`s Day. Nor did I tonight. I always make sure time passes. I want the wild, free, – the unique woman, to enter. I want to become one with nature. I want to be who I was meant to be. I want to be how God (or whom else) intended me to be. Without makeup, without soap. Without flat- iron and anti- frizz. So, I put on my period- panty, Winnie the Pooh- socks and sweatpants. Each year. No exceptions made. Neither lace nor skinny- jeans, is permitted. I`m gonna loose my looks. I`m gonna strip down to the bone. Arms and legs, only.
And head. A lot of head.
Contact- lenses are too snazzy, and strictly forbidden, of course. Every now and again the needs of glasses will be debated, however. Then, the conclusion will come down to whatever practical needs there are. How much will I buy? What are the needs? Where am I going? If it`s far away, and I need my car, glasses might be the proper solution. You want to catch sight of things, don`t you. At least, what you don`t want, is to collide with anyone on Women`s Day. We all know the reason why. This specific day should, at the minimum, illustrate that there`s more to us than makeup and crop tops, – and that we`re able to administer four wheels. But, by all means, in other parts of the world, crop tops and makeup could just be the thing. Preferably, while manoeuvring an awesome truck down the main street #mybodymydecision
Well. Back to the dream. Tonight, avocadoes was on my bucket list. It feels like I`m buying them all the time. The ripening process can be quite dramatic and capricious. Suddenly, they`ve moved on, somehow, and you must start the search for a new one. A pretty well- known scenario, and nothing which startles anyone, I guess. However, what was a bit unexpected this time, was that I couldn`t localize them, so I rambled around tiles for a good few minutes. Until I found this guy. He didn`t even need to look up. He knew every inch of this store, no question about it. Therefore, I figured he was the one to ask for some guidance. As soon as I had popped the question, he smiled at me, and reassured that they weren`t far off. As I was going to express my gratitude and wander off, he suddenly jumped out in front of me. He wanted to show me the way, of course, he stated solemnly. He would escort me, as he put it. Given the circumstances of this particular day, I found it quite inappropriate to walk behind him. Therefore, I made sure I was constantly jog- trotting. I shove packages, bags and boxes, and made myself as slim as I possibly could, in order to walk alongside my attendant.
As we finally made it to the avocado baskets, he smiled, and stayed put. I expressed my gratitude, once again, and thought he would leave. But no. Nothing happened. He seemed to be stuck, somehow. I couldn`t tell if he expected tip, a kiss or if he just was a special someone. Nonetheless, I concluded that both kisses and tips seemed extravagant, and a bit odd, so I did the only possible thing. I smiled briefly, one last time, and stared into the baskets. Hoping he would get a move on.
But then, as I was rubbing, rotating and spinning these brownish- green items, the lecture started. He straightened up, cleared his throat, and tapped me on my shoulder. He asked me if I knew how. He wanted to know if I knew how to distinguish, and identify, the ripened ones. The not so ripened ones. And the overripe ones. I looked at him, eyes wide open, and prayed he would stop. But he didn`t. He had no intention of the sort. Instead, he grabbed an avocado, lifted it up into the air and eyeballed me.
“ Well, first of all, you should know what your fingertips are capable of. Which possibilities that exists in your very own hand. You should always press your fingertips carefully into the avocado while you…”
“N0!!!! STOP IT!!!!!”, I shouted, loudly and insistently.
I was paralyzed, and shocked. Nevertheless, I was glad to see that my instincts had responded anyhow. I raised my hand with my palm towards him. Four inches from his nose.
«NO!!!!! THAT`S NOT OKAY!!!!!! YOU`RE NOT GONNA MANSPLAIN ME, ANYTHING!!!!”
“SECURITY!!!!!!!!!!!”
Luckily, the security guard reacted quickly, and dragged him out of the store. It was a frightening experience, and this taking place at Women`s Day, of all days, really shows the importance of having these secular holidays. #nomansplain#standup
Other than that, I feel that it was a nice outing with shopping. I really gave it my all. I put my heart into it. Also, economically speaking, I did okay, I think. Unfortunately, though, I got caught in the rush hour. People were on dinner- mode. There were mile- long queues, and people were weary. Still, I wasn`t going to let myself be distracted. There were things to accomplish. Messages to get across. So, I took a step forward. I whispered to the guy who stood there, that it was 8th of March. I waited a bit. Gave him the chance to shine. Sadly, he didn`t respond the way I hoped he would. He just stood there, looking at me. Therefore, I decided to be clearer. I repeated, slooooowly, that it was 8th of March. Today, was the day, I said. It was Woman`s Day. I told him that I needed to take a step forward. Bacically, one step forward. One step ahead of him, I exclaimed. He could tell I was serious, because he looked at me for quite some time, and then suddenly, he arranged a nice little whereabouts to me. Right in front of him, with just enough room for me. That was really nice of him, I thought to myself. To show him my appreciation, I turned around a couple of times, and smiled. That was the least I could do. After all, we stayed there for a while. I could feel us bonding, and I don`t think I`m exaggerating when saying we both felt a bit moved by the whole thing. I mean, there were some definite “Small Step for Man, Giant for Mankind” going on in there. Truly touching. #stepforward
After a good twenty minutes, I had paid, and part two had just began. Placing of goods- in bags. It required my full attention, as I felt the pressure all around me. This wasn`t the time, nor the place, to chitchat. The conveyor belt was speeding briskly. People wanted to go home. People wanted their dinner, ASAP. With this, in the back of my head, I planned thoroughly where the things should go. Which would fit where. With precise movements, and at a remarkable rate, my belongings were stowed into the bags. Not one of them were misplaced.
Even with all this going on, I didn`t forget why I was there. I remembered the cause. My battle. So, I asked if he wanted a bag. This guy behind me, I mean. Now he was getting ready to pay. For a while now, there had been a rather loud dialogue between him and the cashier. These blokes behaved as though the whole world revolved around the two of them, only. Their voices were towering, and drowned out any attempts others might have to conversations on their own. These two were impossible to ignore. There were no way of missing them. So, I did the only possible thing. I participated. I decided to play my part, and join in. I insisted to be regarded a fellow contestant. I wanted to contribute in the decision- making. Consequently, I didn`t just ask if he`d care for a bag. I proposed three as the natural choice. I advised him that three surely would be a suitable number. I went from observer to participant. I left my mark, – and it felt amazing! #sharethestage
What I also like, on these specific days, is that I don`t need to carry my own bags. I always make sure there`s a guy nearby, as I pack my groceries. Then he knows, first hand, that I have done my part, and the rest goes easy as pie. Ideally, I `ll go for a cranky guy. One who could need to be put in his place. If I stumble across a husband yelling at his children, or wife, I consider myself lucky, really. Then I know he`s my type of guy. That was what happened tonight, also. I got hold of a badass wrangler. However, when I explained him the distribution- part, and reminded him which day it was, he silenced completely. Without any hassle, he carried all of my bags. All six of them, to be precise, – and with his own bare hands. A real achievement, I must say. An awe- inspiring event. #50/50
What happened next, isn`t my proudest moment, I guess. I got carried away. However, I`m only human. I guess it had something to do with the way he squeezed my bags into the trunk. I could see how he was only thinking of himself. I could see that he didn`t think of me, one bit. He didn`t care whether milk was spilled. He didn`t care if I got yoghurt all around my car.
All he could see was himself
All revolved around him
All he wanted was carrying his own bags
It was just then. It was then it all happened. Suddenly, I felt the strength of Emmeline Pankhurst, Rosa Parks and Malala embody me. They manifested themselves through me. And then, these other ones, visited too.
Suddenly, I became 22- year- old Nina, in Oslo. This mother of three. The sole- provider, who struggled each day, and did everything she knew how to. This young girl, who lost her job, because she had fell in love with a boy. She had managed to hide it for five months, but then, one day, it was all over. One day, in 1913, everything came to an end.
Then suddenly, I became the fourteen- year- old. This little one, who had to move out from her parents, as her childhood was over, from one day to the next. She was only 14, and he was 60. He had lost his wife, and just bought himself a new.
Then I became the girl in the woods. The girl who laid there, all alone. Abandoned, all covered with blood. I became this girl, who they had just used their knife on. I became the girl, who had lost.
I became the woman who did exactly the same. She possessed the same skills, she did the same job, she was paid half. She was the only woman there, and no one to consider. I became the young girl who had to travel for days. She wanted to do it in hospital. She wanted it safe. She wanted it legal. She wanted to be a mother, but not now. When it happened, she`d want something to offer. When it happened, she`d want something to look back on.
I was infuriated. Past. Present. Future. All the women. All the stories. I could feel my blood boil. I couldn`t withheld my emotions anymore. I remembered, and visualized, the abusive words. Everything we`ve been called. Everything that`s been said.
And there he was.
A bad example.
He shoved my groceries in the trunk. A whole lot of speed, less precision. So, right before I jumped into the driver`s seat, and accelerated out of the parking lot, I shouted;
“Learn how to behave, bitch!!!!!!!! Don`t you know anything????!!!! Whoe!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was just as surprised, as he was. I didn`t have the slightest idea I carried all that anger. I`m quite relieved actually, that I got it out of my system tonight. Sure, I could have told him in a more mannered way. I could probably have dropped a few words. However, in retrospect, I`m also a bit proud. Thrilled, even. At least I told him. I made it loud and clear what I felt about his behaviour. Moreover, I got things done on behalf of my fellow sisters. It was only natural to find some frustration beneath the surface. And, no. Maybe I didn`t march down streets all day, but I did it my way. I told him. When something happened, at least, I reacted. I interfered. I was a woman who could speak up. I had messages to get across.
I was a woman of 2019 #myway#takeresponsibility#Woman`sDay2019