The duality of me.
“I Wear The Faces of All The Women Who Came Before Me”
My grandma as a little girl.
I think often about the opportunities I've had that the women in my family before me didn't.
It's a powerful realization, and I'm deeply grateful for the resilience and kindness they've passed down to me. Their strength has been a guiding force, even if sometimes I don’t realize it.
For much of my life, I've felt conflicted about my identity as a woman. Who did I want to be? Who did I want people to think I was?
Was I the delicate, girly girl constantly dismissed by society, or the strong, independent woman who seems to need no one, when that couldn’t be further away from the truth? Growing up in Greece, it felt like women were confined to one of these two roles: either the 'feminine' girl focused on appearances and family, often underestimated, or the 'tough' woman who was respected and unapproachable perhaps even "unlovable," but at least not stupid. You would be an unlovable bitter bitch and somehow in my mind that was a better choice.
Neither path felt entirely right to me, yet it seemed that being the 'tough' one was the better option in a world that didn’t offer many choices.
My mom as a little girl.
A memory that stands out is when I was struggling to bring something down from storage. I asked my mom for help, and as I was up in the storage space, she remarked, "Of course, you're single. You don't need anyone; what could a man do for you?" Hearing her say that phrase, meant as a compliment, really surprised me. Was my independence the reason for my lack of a partner?
My grandma in 1958.
I realized that my whole life I had been striving to be strong and independent, not because I wanted to be alone, but as a form of survival. No, that is a lie. I did because I thought that is who people will admire and love. That is who they want me to be.
In the past two years I have started questioning why I feel the need to conform to these stereotypes. Spoiler alert: it was because I cared—and still care—about what people think of me.
I am trying to find the balance between the parts of myself that are traditionally seen as feminine and those that are viewed as strong. And even this statement, makes me mad that there is still a division between what is considered feminine and what is considered strong. As much as I consider myself a feminist, I still have to challenge the internalized sexism within myself and fully accept that strength doesn’t have to be synonymous with coldness, nor does embracing my feminine side imply weakness.
Each part of us deserves recognition and respect, and I am learning to honor both tenderness and resilience.
My journey now involves embracing the full spectrum of who I am without feeling pressured to fit into predefined molds. I want to live authentically. My worth is not contingent on fitting into a particular role but on being true to myself, with all my complexities and contradictions.
In doing so, I hope to honor the women in my family, past and present, who didn’t have the same luxury. I hold them all close to my heart.
Christina
