A Rant on Privilege, Heartache, and Happiness as a Woman

 I am reading a book right now that is one of the most amazing, soul-searching, hallelujah-I-totally-agree-with-you-on-so-many-things types of books. It is called Untamed by Glennon Doyle who writes in a style similar (to me anyway) of Elizabeth Gilbert whose work I also adore. 

I don’t agree with everything the author writes about but I agree with the premise that many of the narratives that women are given by society and put upon themselves make us feel small, caged, inadequate. I highly recommend the book. I am fired up today because I read a comment in my book group on Facebook (that is full of many lovely strangers who love reading just as much as I do). A woman wrote in that she felt that the book was insincere. She felt it was not possible that this woman who writes about all of her hardships and triumphs in a beautiful memoir could’ve possibly experienced all of this because she comes from a life of privilege. Wait, what???

Let me stop for a moment. I’m not talking about “white privilege" although you can apply that term here if you must and it fits for you. To me when I hear privilege I think of not caring about something because it doesn't directly affect me. This privilege is not okay nor how I choose to live, but this is not the only meaning. Today I’m just talking about privilege (as in having nice things, stability, material goods, etc) and how we throw around the word. So many people take it to mean that she lives a life full of nice things and a full bank account so she can’t possibly have suffered hardship. This fired me up for so many reasons. While the woman who commented was indeed just sharing her opinion, here is mine-laced with vulnerability and self-compassion...and maybe some TMI. Read on if you are interested. 😏

What do we even mean when we throw around the word privilege? 

Do we mean that a person has a lifestyle we are envious of? Do we take into account at all if they worked hard to obtain that? Do we compare our own lives to those of women in other countries and hesitate for a moment realizing that many of us could be called privileged as well? In comparison that is, because isn't it all about comparison-the thief of joy, the seed of envy...

Furthermore does somebody living a life of privilege have exemption from hardship? Are the two mutually exclusive? Does having a nice home and spending account mean that you can’t suffer through heartbreaking changes in your family? Does it somehow make you fireproof? I think that’s worth examining a little, don't you? We will use little ole' me as an example here.

Let me tell you all of the reasons why you should hate me (and why I am sure some people might) before we explore a little further:

• Prior to COVID, I traveled as a hobby and have traveled to multiple countries and states for fun with my husband and sometimes children too.
• I have a job I like on most days and I’m pursuing a career I am quite certain I will love!
• I have a warm home that has granite countertops, a jetted bathtub, a walk-in closet, and a fireplace I adore. And a phenomenal dog.
• Aforementioned home is on acreage out in the country where I enjoy seeing my parents and grandparents almost every day because they too live on the property.
• I have a spending account. It isn’t much some months at all but it is enough that I can buy myself a latte or a new sweater pretty much whenever I desire within reason.
• My family has an old ski boat that we take out on the lakes and a trailer in which to go camping (the way I camp, because I do not tent camp-just sayin').

Is that enough or should I go on?

• I was raised in middle class, suburban California with a swimming pool in my backyard and two working parents. They never divorced and are still madly in love. They even leave each other cute sticky notes on the daily. Yep. 💓
• I had a fairytale wedding on a golf course at a country club when I was 18. 
• I have a God I believe in who has never left me.
• I have two healthy teenage boys who I have very close relationships with, and I love being their mother.
• I am friends with my first husband, the father of our boys. We hang out from time to time as one large, blended family.
• I didn’t have a fairytale wedding the second time around, I got married in Reno. With the secretary of the tiny little chapel as the witness. But I have a fairytale marriage. I have a husband who supports all of my endeavors, who absolutely loves me and wants to be a partner in the life we create.
• I employ someone to clean my house.
• I work part time most which people don’t know is part of the very serious agreement between my husband and I that if I was going to go to graduate school to become a nurse practitioner and double or triple my earning potential, spending YEARS more studying and learning and being NEW at something, that I needed some major help with the household duties and to not be working as often as a nurse. For my sanity...and my mothering time.

I think I’ll stop there and not give you any other reasons to dislike me, but those seem sufficient.

Most of you know-though it may surprise some of you- that I have also had periods in my life that were not so full of “privilege" whether that be financial, emotional, mental or physical (I think they all apply, right?)

• I have been a single mother with two young boys.
• I have been in a loveless, verbally abusive marriage.
• I spent years attempting to co-parent after a bitter divorce with a person who I couldn't get along with.
• I have been suicidal and I have questioned my self worth.
• I have hated being a mother at times.
• I still hate my new shared custody no matter how great it may be, or the best decision it may be. I miss my kids when they are with Dad.
• For years I suffered with chronic migraine, feeling sick almost every single day.
• I have sobbed on the floor of the bathroom not wanting to go to a job that didn’t feel true to me because I wasn’t pursuing my passion. 
• I have lived paycheck to paycheck on Ramen noodles and Hamburger Helper. 
• I have been a very lonely wife with a husband who was a police officer and never home.
• I have been in soul crushing financial debt.
• I have suffered loss, betrayal, and familial upheaval.
• I have struggled with anxiety so strong I didn’t think I could take a step forward, and eating habits so unhealthy there were times I couldn’t tell you the last time I ate.
• I have felt ugly and small, also fat and unworthy.
• I have felt ridiculed by my Christian community at times, the ones who should emulate my God, but haven't always, because people are imperfect.
• I have felt so, so lonely. 
• I have felt intense guilt over being a working mother even when I needed to work, crying as I left my children at the daycare I could barely afford yet still made too much money to not work.
• A straight A student in high school I was told that my skin was the wrong color and my parents with their middle class wages made too much for me to ever qualify for any good scholarships. Maybe if I capitalized on the last name "Perez."
• I have made myself shrink and made myself small to not be the smartest person in the room, to not be the obnoxious one with the answers.

I could go on here as well, but I think that is enough.

Do I appear less hate-worthy and less privileged now? Maybe? Maybe not. 

I guess it is all perspective. 

I challenge you though to identify when you say things like “it must be nice" or “it can’t be that hard because of her lifestyle" to think what is the root behind you feeling that way? Why are you not holding your sister's hands through the tough times and high-fiving her through the good? All the material goods in the world cannot protect us from heartbreak, from loss, nor do they really help us with rebirth and joy. They are just devices. Just things. Sometimes they are very nice things, but often what we identify as privilege includes things that people worked very, very hard for if you just stop and listen to their story. Everyone has a story. Sometimes it is not a heartbreak to joy story, sometimes it is the other way around. Often it is cyclical. 

What fires me up is when women say things about other women that continue to hold them down. Things that make them feel like their story is anything less than worthwhile. You don’t have to agree with somebody’s story, but you shouldn’t attempt to invalidate it either. It isn’t always men who make us feel these things. Some of them, sure. But often it is women who continue to cage other women, putting them in neat, tiny little boxes that contain just one sliver of one small worldview. 

• "You can't have a career and be a good mom."
• " You HAVE to breastfeed."
• "Don't you miss your children when you are at work?"
• "What do you mean you don't want kids?"
• "You can't enjoy sex and be a good Christian."
• "You should be quiet and trustworthy, a perfect size 4, bake cakes from scratch on the daily (but don't eat them), chauffeur your children to violin and Cantonese lessons, and never, ever want anything for yourself-just be thankful."

At 39, I am the happiest I have ever been. The healthiest too. My key to happiness? I know ME and I love me, and that makes a huge difference. It has been a journey of 39 years, and I know it will change and shift as I grow. I know that I can both want and be grateful. They can co-exist as can the viewpoints above that work for some women (though I would strongly challenge a few 😉) and the exact opposites that work for others. At some point with enough soul-searching and courage, enough stillness and action you too can reject the narratives about your life-the stories that you have told yourself about why you are stuck, unhappy or can’t shine. Isn’t it weird that we often imprison ourselves? At some point you too may realize like I have that I can be all of the things I want to be: devoted mom, loving, sexy and fun wife, loyal friend, loving daughter, career woman, passionate traveler, writer, Yogi.  At some point you can feel free to just be you.

Aaaaannnndddd you can do that from your gorgeous home or the fixer-upper you are working on because neither invalidates your story in the least.

ps. I highly recommend the book that will make you laugh, cry, and most of all THINK. 💙