This is apt – for today.
Thanks to this TED talk I’ve been thinking a lot about why women seem to under-achieve in the workplace. Which is strange when you consider that females typically do better academically (or at least at GCSE level -males are now apparently closing the gender gap for A levels).
So why is this?
Sheryl thinks it’s because:
- Women under-estimate their own abilities
- Women typically don’t negotiate well for themselves in the workplace
- Women attribute their success to other external factors
Worse still – in our society success and like-ability are apparently positively correlated for men and negatively correlated for women. Essentially if women want to be liked, they’d better not be too successful.
Embarrassingly this is equally perpetuated by both males and females.
I’ve been thinking about what I can do differently. You see, I’m not sure I believe that ‘society’ (or men) need to do something to reverse this under-achieving trend. I really think it’s up to us ladies to step it up some.
A little more self-belief, a little less self-deprecation is easy to say, but hard to do. But nonetheless I’m going to try.
I’m also going to do my best to make sure that I’m not one of those people who are busily hating on successful women.
I’d really like it if you’d join me.
What’s both struck and impressed me about the weddings which I’ve been to this year is the very public display of blind faith between the two people about to be wed. Blind faith isn’t something we see a lot of nowadays. And that’s exactly what it is.
I think it’s very courageous to commit to another person, to make those promises. Particularly when no one can ever really predict what the future might hold. When perhaps the only thing we can be certain of is that change is just around the corner. Situations change, jobs change, hell – people change.
And I guess what most impresses the commitment-phobic, selfish, childish, sorry excuse for a human being that I am; is that despite the certain knowledge that things will change, these couples believe (even though they can’t possibly know for certain) that they want to be together. No matter what.
Whilst I sit on the sidelines idly wondering how the hell they’ve even made it down the aisle. I don’t mean figuratively – I mean literally. I’m not even the one getting married, but nevertheless the flight impulse is almost impossible for me to resist. I feel trapped and would like nothing more than to run.
Now clearly this causes something of a conflict for me. Going to weddings throws into sharp relief just how far away from that grown up world I really am. I’m aware that I’m being left behind. I’m scared that I’m the only girl in the room who doesn’t daydream about her wedding – either in the past or the future tense.
At weddings I feel like a foreigner, an outsider, an alien. I don’t belong. This gives me the mean reds like I can’t even tell you.
In short, dear reader, I find weddings extremely difficult. They make me feel sad.
That’s a very unattractive thing to admit out loud isn’t it? That I’m so wrapped up in my own weird little neurosis that I feel sad at weddings – which, let’s face it, are supposed to be happy occasions.
But, even whilst I might feel sad, I am happy for them (the couple in question I mean). I’m genuinely in awe of them, of their belief in each other, their faith.
But it’s safe to say that I’m not one of the girls risking life and limb in the frankly ugly scramble for the bride’s bouquet. I am far more likely to be found running in the opposite direction.
Given that change is always just around the corner, maybe I too will change. Maybe I won’t.
Maybe what’s needed here is a little faith. Blind, seeing or otherwise.
This weekend has officially been a good ‘un.
Today I’ve somehow managed to shop, go for lunch (which incorporated both a glass of Cava (mmm bubbles) AND an expresso martini). Nice little alcohol buzz = win.
I also caught up with my ickle bro (albeit briefly) and I’ve managed to do some work.
Anywho that’s an aside, I’ve also been thinking about – well stuff.
And my thought for the day? Here goes (remember my little alcohol buzz – be kind loves):
Love is… knowing someone would do anything for you; and yet you wouldn’t dream of asking them to.
Idealistic? Yes. Unrealistic? Undoubtedly.
But it’s a lovely thought, no?
So, tonight my ickle Mummy and me (yes I know that’s grammatically incorrect, but this is a blog, baby – deal mmmkay?) got ourselves just the right side of wasted.
Of course I heart my Mum for hundreds of reasons, but perhaps the most important of which is her absolutely, ever-present, un-erring belief in me. According to my Mum, I’m just about the best damn thing on the planet.
Of course I’m not.
But I’m not nearly as crap as I’d have myself (and others) believe.
I think self-deprecation is a trait which I’ve down to a fine art. It really doesn’t matter what I achieve, there’s a little hater in me, squawking badness:
Screaming “you’re shit; AAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Wiling me to miss the penalty, fail the team, tumble from grace and land on my rather generously proportioned arse.
But my loves, right here, right now I’m feeling pretty darn awesome.
There’s tons I’m not so good at. There’s still a millionty things I’ve to learn.
But learning rocks. Making mistakes is still (as far as I’m concerned) the very best way to learn… You’ll wake up and live to kick ass another day.
We’re all just trying to figure out the bigger picture. Still trying to find our place within it. It’s big, it’s scary and it might just go a bit Pete Tong.
But right now I feel like I’m swimming rather than sinking. And even if what I’m actually doing is treading water, it won’t be forever… It’ll just be for now. I’ll be heading for the open water and dodging the sharks soon.
Because although I might lack self-belief, I’m going to take a little of what my mama gave me, and shake my money-maker (albeit intellectually-speaking), and see what happens.
Seriously, I wish y’all a Mummy as awesome as mine.