LADIES, YOUR OPINION PLEASE. I love handbags and shoes. I like looking good cos it makes me feel just wonderful. I hate me when I'm lazy and unkempt. Is this wrong? You may say that for as long as all this is for me then its "go ahead girl, just do your thing!"
No, I more often than not feel good because I think that someone looking may think I look good. Without the other approving of what I am then, in all probability, I'm happy being a cavewoman. Grow fat, eat what I like, die when I should. That kind of thing. I have yet to learn to love me for me. Am I a victim of conditioning or am I a victim of creation?
How can I say this? Is there any chance that somewhere out there there's someone who has no inclination to be sexually loved and to sexually love? There is here no reference to sexual preference. Your poison is yours, feel free to help yourself. Mine is mine. In this instance my sexual leaning makes no difference because it is all about me, my self, this one person that should make my world go round. Whom I love matters only in how much this other person actually makes or breaks me: that is all that is pertinent for the issue at hand.
Therefore, we are made this way, desperate for love. If you disagree its only because you have not loved and be loved in return although I must admit that lust is easily mistaken for love. And, of course, too, those claims by some that there are good substitutes for love, the kind that do not cause hassles, and are clean and uncomplicated. Well, yes. Enough times I have thought that achievement can take the place of love. The adrenalin rush alone is worth paying for, if its up for sale. If that adrenalin rush can be packaged it would make someone awfully rich. But when once you love again you will realise how faulty that sense is. It is no substitute for love.
Love makes me sing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me fly. Love gives me a high, unblemished and always pristine. Try it if you don't believe me. Let yourself go and find love and then you will know what I mean. When stage two knocks in you fall lightly to the ground. You are better grounded, no doubt, but the elation is still much part and parcel of your being in love. But remember, I am talking from a woman's perspective. A man probably feels differently when he is in love. Let me just take a guess and if I'm wrong, I hope my male readers will let me know.
"I am god," says a man in love. There is gentleness because there cannot not be for love is gentle. When no gentleness is present in a relationship love doesn't live there. So, the man in love is gentle but not soft; kind and not stupid; and, strong in a very comforting way. All men in love are this way made, nothing makes a difference: not age, not race, not creed and not class. Love is a leveler and there is only one way to be in love. Anything less and one knows that therein is lust, pure and simple. Why do I say this? Well those attributes I listed comes natural with love. When parents love it is that way, unconditional, as you give of yourself with no strings attached.
And so I hanker to remain forever high. Towards this end I keep myself trim, try to stay healthy so that the complexion is always radiant, make sure I have my beauty sleep and, naturally after all that, dress attractively. Now this is where the bag and shoe fetish comes in. It is a pleasant distraction when its in check. But, do I not make a good feminist because of it?
Point is here that I want someone to love, always. That, I know, nobody begrudges me. For without it I am a sorry excuse for whatever. It makes me cry. And please do not mistake what I say for the silly notion that one cannot be without a partner. That is not true. Better without a partner than be with one and not have love. What I want is to have my cake and eat it; this, they say, no one can have. That, I contend, is a fallacy. And so the dress up and good-looking, good-feeling me.
However, there is that school which vehemently argues for the "take me as I am" principle. Fat, thin, dark, fair, bucktooth or not, beautiful or hideous, this is what I am. You don't like it, go lump it. True love, this school of thought wants us to believe, will see past all the flaws and go straight for the essence. Were the world made this way, "hallelujah," I'd say. You know that its not, hence, cosmetic surgery. The good lookers have a better chance at love than plain Janes. That is the fact. Granted that was not how it was for Princess Diana, but she bucked the odds. Furthermore, hers was an arranged marriage not a fairytale one. That latter was mere media hype.
I love bags and shoes, and lovely clothes. I enjoy being attractive. And, I love love. More importantly, I love my fellow persons. I am angry at the oppressor. I cry for the oppressed. I write in praise of fair play and social justice. I fight for equality. I give to the needy of myself and my property, inasmuch as I am able. I am ALL of these. Why then fault me for my innocent distractions. I AM A FEMINIST!! So there.
No comments:
Post a Comment