Systems in a vacuum
A moment ago I wished I was a man. To be more specific, a few minutes ago. For the first time in my life. I wished I was a man. Because being a woman is tiring. Endlessly tiring.
During the weekend I celebrated my two boys' birthdays and they turned out to be just as wonderful as I possibly could arrange, being a single mum with limited time and limited economy. I woke up early, baked cakes. Spent as much money as I could on one fantastic gift each. I sang stupid songs for them. Made them irritated while kissing them way too much. We had a picnic in the early spring evening which made them embarrassed since no one else thought it was warm enough. I’m just trying to be a normal, wonderfully abnormal, loving mother. And I work hard for them. All my children have clean clothes. They eat healthy food and have their baths. My children do average in school but that’s all fine. They have friends and I’ve taught them how to open doors for elderly. I’ve taught them how to look after a bullied friend. My children all fall asleep calmly. I pay them to read books, a way for me to compete with social media, and it’s sometimes ruining me. We look after each other. My children care for many. But not once do I sit down during the weekends. Not once do I get to rest. All I see is a system in a vacuum.
And now it’s Monday. I’m back into struggling with climate change, the metacrisis, our polycrisis. Words that trend. Words that humans use to sound intelligent. I’m reading and writing with other words too. Wellbeing. Pathways. Systemic care. The future systems. How I ended up among those words is, to me, still a bit unclear, I wanted to be a pianist. But here I am. Trying to make the world a better place. While it’s actually an awful place for so so many. Everyone wants to see future change as something inspiring, something enjoyable, something profitable. All I see is a system in a vacuum. And I keep pushing. I keep working, since I somehow feel I have a little more to give. I’ve got a tiny bit more energy to spend. While men call me naive. While I’m not being taken seriously. While I’m not the one who will bring in profits into the system. All I see is a system in a vacuum. A vacuum without women.
There is a lack of women leading. A lack of women deciding. A lack of women with agency. A lack of money invested into women. I’m self-conscious writing this. Knowing it upsets men. Knowing it won’t bring me more work. Yet, we need to resist. Live brave. How are we going to change anything without recognising that the vacuum exists?
Outside my window a blackbird sings, looking for a mate. My eyes tearing up. I’m exhausted. Of being a resolute woman. Of trying to shift systems in a vacuum. Or is it just this, the vulnerability and feelings of insecurities that we need to nourish? I don’t know. I really don’t know.
