It is International Women’s Day today. Hurrah! Round my way lots of women are celebrating by squeezing themselves into body-con dresses and eating a croissant at a business lunch. Good for them.
I am writing this in a coffee shop like a proper writer. Or, as my beloved people put it – like a donk. I don’t really approve of signing up to the Internet in coffee shops because the amount of information they want from me to use their Wi-Fi has ensured that, should I keel over, they will be able to locate my address, phone number, next of kin, previous incurable diseases, preference for Lilo and Stitch over all other Disney films and the embarrassing fact that my new knickers are too small. (M and S! It’s not me – I have measured!) However, I couldn’t blog last night because I was so very busy (family time or, should you prefer, watching football and eating pizza) so I am here now, for you, with all my personal information wooshing around the clouds or whatever.
Just digressing a mo. Is it me or is there nothing on the telly? Well Strike was back but if you saw “The Usual Suspects” you’ll have worked out who the baddie was almost immediately. I hope that is a well enough hidden spoiler. Still I do love it. I feel a bit sorry for her boyfriend. What man would want Strike as a rival? Because of Strike, I am now two behind on Endeavour and wondering if it is worth four hours of my time. Also, I have left Shetland. I’m sorry. It’s just too depressing. Also, I didn’t bother with Collateral despite the beauteous Carey Mulligan. It just looked like it was written by a gang of drunks who were on a bet to include as many cliches as they thought they could get away with. Troubled police officer, secret(ish) lesbian vicar, even more secret gay bishop, troubled politician, even more troubled ex-wife of politician, dead pizza delivery driver(possibly illegal immigrant) etc etc. Who would be a pizza delivery man these days? They are getting gunned down left, right and centre if the telly is to believed – although they also all seem to be involved in very dodgy dealings of one sort or another. Nobody ever signs up with a pizza firm just to deliver pizza apparently.
Continuing to digress. HOH has hurt his back. I am not laughing; partly because it looks really painful and partly because I am having to do all his stuff in the house. This will be fine – ignore my pained expression – unless we get a spider in. Then we will have to move into a hotel for the evening.
Anyway, to return to my original thinking. Today is International Women’s Day. There are a lot of fine things being said and hurrah to all that. I am sometimes concerned that the narrative is that women are only empowered and fulfilled when they are free to be entrepreneurs living a “big” life, wearing posh business clothes and making plenty of money. It is important that women who want to do that are free to do so and not prevented from becoming who they want to be just because of their sex. I might possibly argue that eventually these women might find, as many men have before them, that this “big” life is not quite the answer to everything that they would expect it to be. I would just like the women who serve, who sacrifice, who mother, who create on a small scale and live “small” lives to be celebrated as well. Because they should no more be prevented from living their dream lives than should anyone who wants to change the world. Not all women need to be drawn into what has often been a male narrative where “success” is measured by the power you possess and the money you make. On International Women’s Day, as a woman, (for that is what I am), I want to stand up for the equality of being who you want to be – who you feel called to be. Serving as you feel able and gifted to – at whatever “level”. And, I suppose – while we are at it chaps – you should feel able top do the same yourselves.