A few hours ago I was at the mall and whilst walking to the entrance which was made out of floor-to-ceiling glass doors, a man wearing shorts and a t-shirt was guiding his wife who was covered in black burqa just so that she wouldn’t bump herself into the glass doors.

Looking at the way she walked, it was obvious she was having problems to see anything; I guess that’s what happens when you have black cloths covering your entire body and sighting and on top of that, risking your own safety by wandering around at nights had it not been your lovely and loyal husband being there to guide your steps and hold your hand so that you won’t trip and embarrass yourself silly.

What I just saw back then made me feel uncomfortable and sad; Even though I manage to make a joke out of it, I can’t help but wonder how it feels like not being able to wear anything you want, because you have to cover your entire body for the rest of your life, and for the sake of what; love? Religion?

Can you honestly, be convinced that that woman herself did not feel restricted by her own attire? Any woman in her right mind would.

And how convenient it was that the husband, in the other hand, was free to wear whatever he pleased and be the alpha-male who guided the wife as if she was literally blind, or to have a better analogy, more like a dog on leash being walked by its master during obedience training.

I know, because I used to do the same thing with my dog during his puppy years since he couldn’t be trusted to roam the house freely without me finding mysterious looking dog poo in strange corners of the house. I could tell he really hated being put on a leash – he just wanted to be free.

If an animal has the natural yearning to be free, shouldn’t a human being? Perhaps it is natural to keep a dog on a leash for the safety of the people around it, but does a woman when being her own self and wearing her own choice of clothing, reflect just as much threat as a dog does?

Freedom has become an expensive right to every human being and some will fight to the death for it – and yet, some people are still putting themselves in their own prison.

Women. Women. Women. You’ve come a long way, baby.

But when will you ever be free?

I am sick of being discriminated just because I have a vagina. But the feeling becomes even more revolting when I see women who are attacking their own gender. For me, that is definitely something I cannot forgive.

We all know how difficult being a woman is – even in a modern city like Jakarta, where we can find growing numbers of career women who, day by day, are defying the traditional social deconstruction of what a woman should be. When ten years ago I still witnessed twenty five years olds on the verge of going through nervous breakdowns because they were yet to be married off, nowadays it’s more like: “I’m thirty four, I am single and successful, and I am enjoying my life. So sod off.”

Even though such attitude might be perceived as being arrogant, I simply see it as a way of building self-confidence.

God knows, women in this country needs it badly – after years and years of being stomped over by men who were brainwashed by their predecessors to disclose us as the less intelligent, second-class citizens who were only good for minding the house and raising the children, now that we are achieving our own independence and proving to the world that we are just as capable – if not more – as men, women are gradually becoming more aware of their talents and purposes in life.

Suddenly, life does not have to round up into just one goal: To find a good, preferably rich husband, get married off, have children and grow old. Of course there is nothing wrong with this ideal, because after all it has been imprinted on our minds since we were born that it is our destiny as the female being to start a family (even more of an obligation for us rather than the male, I think); but don’t we have the rights even to our own wombs? Don’t we have the rights to choose not to get married? Don’t we have the rights to remain single and pursue our dreams?

And now that we finally have the freedom to voice out our objections, there is a new form of war that independent women must fight – which is the fight against their own kind.

The kind who prefer to obey and go back to the patriarchal ways because they are too afraid to step out of their comfort zones. The kind who choose to take sides to chivalry because independent women are still out-numbered.
The kind who condemns women for being able to drive their own car, making their own money, succeeding in their own career and taking care of themselves without having to conform to the norm of the society.
The kind who instead of supporting, are feeling rather threatened by the new female revolution.
Simply put, these women are the kind who cannot make their own minds up because they have been used to be told what to do for so long, or even allow themselves to let men lead their lives around. Because if they are not, there is no reason why they must attack their own kind, isn’t it?

Recently I was surprised upon reading an article from a blog which was contributed by a woman who was saying that women in Jakarta were often sexually harassed because they were not dressed politely enough. She also wrote that female drivers were the worst out of all drivers. On top of that, she added that these same women were most likely shopaholics who frequent beauty spas to make themselves look more beautiful, and in the end concluding her last point that these women were using their physiques as a medium for marketing tools in promotional events at exhibitions.

Now I don’t know about you, but I personally have to disagree with those points.

First of all, even if we were dressed in burqas from head to toe, it still did not guarantee us from not being sexually harassed by men – those of you who have experienced this personally (and I’m sure you have, because what woman hasn’t? In the exception if she was butt ugly that even a dog would recoil just by looking at her) would definitely agree that covering up is not the prevention of sexual harassment, but it’s the weakness of the minds of men for not being able to contain their desire, which makes them act upon it.

Why is it that women in countries such as Singapore or Thailand are secure enough to get out of the house in tank tops and mini-skirts and not fearing that they will get raped? Because the minds of the men in those countries are well-educated enough to respect women in terms of what they want to wear and that to sexually harass women by judging the clothes they wear is an unquestionable sign of a weak character.

Now, for female being the worst driver – if it’s coming from the mouth of a man, isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black? According to car insurance company such as insurance.com, they quote that many auto insurance industries are in fact requiring male drivers to pay more insurance because they have more tendencies to drive aggressively, which includes speeding and ignoring the risk of not using the safety belt, and the reason why there are increasing numbers of aggressive female drivers is because they have taken example of such bad habit displayed by men. As for being worst drivers, I take it that this term actually comes from a man who cannot tolerate the habit of a female driver who, instead of being less, is actually more cautious than men. As for me, I personally know for a fact that there are very excellent female drivers out there, such as my girlfriends, for example. We even struck up a discussion about the behavior of other (presumably, if not most probably, male) drivers who are unthinkably dangerous and reckless. Do women drive worse than men? Think again.

Not lets move on to the shopaholic label, shall we? If, say, you are a woman who makes your own money or even supplied by plentiful sources of money, wouldn’t it be a luxury to be able to spend it however you like it? If I were one of those women, I wouldn’t give a flying F if other people label me as a shopaholic. If you had the money, wouldn’t you love the freedom of being able to purchase what you want? Call me materialistic, call me consumtive, as long as this hobby is not disadvantaging, why should other people make such a fuss? Besides, even though we spend more, we are the ones who are well known for being the expert on bargaining (even the person who wrote the article admitted this, though oddly enough she made it sound as a negative trait of a woman) and getting the best price of everything.

Even though this is purely based on my assumption, I do not doubt that the person who wrote this article, provided if she actually was a woman herself, will not refuse to be in the position of those women which she labeled as being shopaholic. I don’t also doubt for a second that for a woman to conform to the male domination, they are also relying much heavily on the existence of the male being, this including money and the freedom to purchase whatever she desires. I hope that in the future there will be more financially independent women as opposed to less male-depending women, because apart from it being unhealthy, it puts your life in other person’s control. If he limits your spending, then you feel declined to ask for more, because you are living off a person who is financing you.

As for beauty spas, this goes without saying – what woman doesn’t like to pamper herself? Is it such a crime for her to want to look beautiful? If you are fugly, wouldn’t you want to make yourself appear better? Ever heard of the saying ‘when you look good, you feel good?’ before? Complain as you like, but we live in a judgmental world – first impression does count, however much you object to it.

And so we have come to the last ’so-called’ depiction of a typical Jakartan female; women as a marketing/promotional tools. True, I have seen more women doubling as a crowd attraction/sales promotion in events such as car and computer exhibitions. These women are probably in their early twenties, still in college or on their way to graduating, so I assume they have less or no working experience whatsoever. The representation of a female, be it a painting of Monalisa or the curvaceous body of Marylin Monroe, is still, somehow a lot more attractive figure in the public, and if they are proven effective to attract the crowds, who are we to argue whether or not this is wrong or right?

Again, why are women always being the one judged for whatever it is they want to do? It takes a lot of guts wearing mini-skirts and tank tops in front of the male visitors who are staring at them lustily. But it takes even more guts for a woman to take the first steps on being independent and earning your first cash. Everyone has their moments, be it good or bad. What we should applaud is their courage to take the chance.

I admit I feel a wave of dissatisfaction after reading that article. For all the fight and struggle women have to endure, is that not enough that we are also getting the disapproving look from our own kind? I cannot help but asking to those women, do you know how it feels like for a girl? In this world (Yes, it’s a song by Madonna)? Is it really that much easier for them to give up and continue being discriminated, to give away the freedom women have been fighting for so long as a right that has been long overdue, and never finding out what it feels like to be given equal rights?

You may say I am taking things too seriously , but I refuse to give, not even a smallest bit of chance,for men to once again rule over me nor any woman, and for men to try telling me about what I should or should not do with my life.

To end this article, I would like to quote Susan Faludi’s words on Backlash;

“Because women’s hours on the stage is long, long overdue. Because, whatever new obstacles are mounted against the future march toward equality, whatever new myths invented, penalties levied, opportunities rescinded, or degradations imposed, no one can take from the [American] woman the justness of her cause.”

Suddenly, everything seemed possible and being a woman didn’t seem to be so limited anymore. There was no limit in terms of what we could do and be. Those four women did it, so nothing was impossible anymore! Women could be workaholics and put careers on top of everything else like Miranda and it was fine! Women could have sex like a man and not involve their feelings like Sam! Women could stay old-fashioned and value the traditional merits like Charlotte or be a full on shoe-holics like Carrie! So many options, so little time!

And yet the media got tired of all these “independent women” running amok. It’s not interesting anymore. No gender to ridicule about. No discrimination against them because now they have this new-found perspective that they are just as capable as men and that the world is changing to suit and provide for them, not the other way around. It’s not realistic, they say. Women can’t both have careers and kids at the same time. Women can’t have sex like a man – it’s not in their genes. Women can’t stay unmarried forever.

And so Desperate Housewives was definitely the answer. Yes, women were desperate. In fact they had always been. “Show us something we can relate! None of this silly too-independent-women crap, it’s way too unobtainable to believe!” they cried. “What about us wedded women, it’s not all about the single ones out there!” cried out the moms. All of a sudden there were desperate women everywhere, confessing that they’d been living double-standard lives and torturing their families with their obsession of cleanliness, or women cheating on their husbands and self-confessing their addiction to sex and it was all over Oprah and Dr. Phil or maybe even Jerry Springer, spilling out of control like a clubbed over waterworks.

Then Pink came out all shocking in her new video clip “Stupid Girls”, ridiculing girls who flaunted their bodies and putting too much make up and simply loving themselves too much, saying that she couldn’t name any young female celebrity who was actually smart and there was simply no real role model out there for young girls to look up to. It wasn’t like it was the first time another female celebrity was stating that.

Wait a minute. What role model? Are you? What kind of role models do young girls actually need?

Someone charismatic like Abraham Lincoln or Denzel Washington, only the female versions? What about Condi Rice? Too harsh and fugly? Ok. Angelina Jolie? Fake boobs? No? Lindsay Lohan? Come on, a couple sessions of sticking your finger up your throat was definitely worth it if you could have a figure like her! What, even Carrie from Sex and the City is too slutty now? Okay, what about Britney? Oh hang on, we don’t even know whether or not she’s a virgin except… *gasp* Britney herself!

Women.

Women.

Women. You’ve come a long way now baby. But when will you ever be free?

I happen to be classified as the latter type.

Such is my luck, because I have come from a broken-down family, born and raised by a father who is the least of the figure I expect and a mother who told me that being married is like trying to walk with an iron ball chained onto your foot. On top of that, I have married aunties who always warned me each time they see in at family gatherings – with their fingers wagged in front of my face – not to get married too quickly and if they ever had the options themselves, would have probably never got hitched so quickly, if only they knew.

I am also brainwashed by many American movies who seem to depict the reason why divorce rates keep on increasing over there. The dogma is ever imprinted onto the nerve systems in my brain that whenever I see a lovey-dovey romantic movie that shows two people in love and ending up with the couple embracing and kissing each other while the camera shoots all around them in circle, the cynical bitch in me can’t help not to snigger and roll my eyes, thinking, “This movie’s got bullshit written all over it!”

If ever there was a person who witnessed so many flawed marriages in her life, that person would be me. Everywhere I go, I always stumble upon them – the married people I see on the shops, on the streets, even on wedding ceremonies for God’s sake. So good I have become that just by simple observations I can tell whether or not these people have issues within their marriages, one way or another.

And if I happen not to notice these things, someone else, like my mother, for instance, will be more than happy to point them out to me; “Look at the way her husband just stands there while his wife is putting all their grocery bags in the car – I bet he’s a selfish prick who thinks his wife is equal to a doormat or something.” or, “Oh, that’s nice, he’s just standing there while the wife’s paying up for everything, he must be a total loser who only sticks with her because she’s got money and he doesn’t.” And then there’s “Look at those pretentious old bitches sitting on their arses over there, I bet all they do is ask for money from their husbands and spend it all on clothes, jewellery and Botox and God knows what else.”

Yes, I know. They are pretty nasty and judgmental comments but I got to hand it to her because she is right. Not because I am very much under the heavy influence of my mother and not also because she is my mother, but it’s because the chances of her observations being right is something like, nine out of ten. I know this because my curiosity is strong enough to want to prove my mother wrong. And most of the time she isn’t.

That is why I have grown to be a person who thinks it’s okay not to be married and have kids.

Because I have a choice not to be. I might be one of the rare women who are missing the bride, the mum and the wife genes, and that might freak me out every now and then, but that’s okay.

Perhaps when all of my girlfriends are married and pregnant, I’ll just smile and wish them good luck. And when they have given birth to their children and proudly become mums, I’ll wish them plenty of luck. When their children are big and they start to tell me to do something about my life and I am still not married, that is just my luck.

Later on people might label me as the sad old spinster who will die alone being eaten by her dogs, but that day may or may not come. God knows what’s in store for the future, and there is no use worrying for things that only time can unravel.

In the mean time, I am fine and I will be fine.