Dear whomever,
I’ve been stuck on what to write to you this week. Usually, I have a line or idea that I build on. But this week… nothing really came to mind. I thought about talking more about slowness. I thought about talking about the shift to adulthood. I thought about what could be important to say. But in the state of the world now, we can argue that not much is important - not in the day-to-day, at least, not in comparison to what is happening around us. There are bigger things to think about. There usually are.
My notes app is an explosion of ideas, though. Discontinued stories. Half-written poems. Lines I thought of that rhyme. I only started using my notes app when I started writing poetry - in 2020, I think? With me, it’s always just a line that begins it. Two words, at the very least. Sometimes I ramble and hope my future self can make something beautiful out of the words. So, here we are. I am trying to make something meaningful out of old thoughts.
The first thing to intrigue me from the myriad of ideas was the following stream-of-consciousness:
17 November 2023 at 6:40 PM
middle eastern girl-only partiesunlike the west we do not dress for themes. instead, the room becomes a safe-space for women to express themselves freely. we end up wearing not what fits the occasion, not what is “appropriate” for the situation, but what we are not “allowed” to wear in public: extra tight pants, crop tops, pencil skirts. while this tradition of separation is the direct influence of patriarchal ideologies and a culture that is born on and continues to center itself around religion, there is a freedom you get here that you wouldn’t elsewhere. there is a beauty here which we have lost through time and modernization. my friend says to me: “when i come to women-only parties, i feel like everyone is releasing so much pent-up frustration”
this idea cemented a new lens to what was happening around me: release. freedom. safety. the space became a sort of holy thing, far away from the male gaze, from overarching judgement, from the heavy expectations women in the middle east face. we are all dressed so differently, but this is the way we do things, and i find myself yearning to be surrounded by only-women more, to be able to be sexy and free without the thought or fear of being sexualized through it. we are denied our sensuality so much in this country, we don’t think enough of how it truly affects us. i feel
Girlhood is a big trend now, I know; the pinks, the bows, the TikToks. Is that just what I’m seeing? I wonder if there’s a correlation between these ideas, of this strong acceptance of what I am, and getting older. Are 15-year-olds thinking this way, too? Are they embracing their femininity? Or are these ideas just the natural ones I’m meant to have at 24, like baby-fever or suddenly wanting a family (which I’m yet to experience, thankfully).
I’ve tried to re-center women in my life this past year, to be more proactive about spending time with my girls. I’ve actually, throughout my life, preferred the friendship of men. Maybe I felt less pressure - male friendships don’t exactly expect much intimacy from you. And I don’t mean to generalize: but it is simply, most of the time, the truth. Generalizations come from what we see. And being friends with men means you’re able to have fun without the pressure or expectancy of cutting yourself open. Men are loyal friends, but more stubborn and less likely to put in the effort of reading you inside out. If you’re fun to be around, they’ll love to hang out, and if you ever need help, they’re often the first to make the trip.
Women, though, I’ve learned, build their friendships on emotions. On openness. On talking, gossiping, discussing. We see this in the jokes on TikTok, we see this in the memes. The bar bathrooms, the sleepovers, the keying of the ex’s car. We prefer to do things in pairs, or even better - in groups, and though some gossip and the judgment bleeds through us, there is something that holds us all together throughout it. We are a culture in and of itself. We are natural mothers from the moment we are born. The beauty of girlhood is that we take care of each other. It is an exchange of care. Men, I feel, have to teach themselves to understand how to care for things - or they only care for special things. But we have been brought up by a society that taught us nothing but empathy, care, and forgiveness. In most women, that is all we know. Which means sacrifice. Constant sacrifice.
Maybe my friendships to men were a rebellion of sorts. I felt the pressure to exist in girls-only spaces, having grown up here in Jordan, and didn't want to give in to that. I didn’t like the divide, and only now I can put into words why. But limiting myself to that idea strained my connections to other women - I never learned to belly-dance, for example, which is such an important part of the culture I live in. In many ways that reflects how I feel about my womanhood: awkward and uncomfortable. I still feel part-boy. Masculine in a sense. I’d like to dance, see. I’d like to be drowned in gold and henna. Recently I’ve found myself so enamored by Middle Eastern culture and the aesthetics of it that I am disappointed in my younger self for not embracing what ran through my blood.
I do not feel at home around women. I feel slightly awkward. I always say friendships with girls feel like relationships in of themselves: they mirror dating in how driven they are. My ex-girl-friends are truly exes: I feel triggered if they come up, I mourned excessively when they ended. I always wondered if that strong emotional response was normal. Now, I guess it is. With the amount we pour into our friendships, could you expect much less?
But still. Still! What is safer than a room full of women? What is more comforting than the bar bathroom with a shared compact of blush? Who is more understanding than your older coworker who advises you on how to move forward? I wish the world was more equal, but I’ve come to accept that no man will ever see or experience this place as women do. And we need each other to go on. We need the spaces we feel freer in. There is a balance there, somewhere. Do I wish I could take a walk on the street without eyes on my ass? Do I wish I could be at a party without a surprise hand on my back? I do, I do. But we take what we can get and we need the places where we can let go of the fear so engrained in us.
So I like the women-only parties. I like seeing the pieces they bought and wished they could wear. I like them.
The separation used to bother me. I thought it stupid. My high-school was divided and I hated it but when I went to university, I was in a faculty with mostly women. It was only then, in my early adult life, did I realize the magnitude of what I was able to experience. Is there anything more freeing than asking, out loud, for a pad? And that’s only a small part of it. Will the world one day become a place where my almost 30 year old coworker doesn't lower her voice to a whisper to ask for something completely normal and simple? Maybe it will. Maybe it won't. But there is a freedom in not worrying about the blood.
I wish I could say more, but I’m sick with a cold, so this is where my words end.
Thank you for being here.
PS: Write back! A note, a quote, an idea. You can even let me know if what I’m saying makes any sense at all. In summary, I am in desperate need for inspiration, and I love your comments - always.
i always found girls who were really bragging of the fact they are friends with only boys stupid. but this gave a pov into their own personal fight with being a girl in this patriarchal world. i feel guilt for thinking about girls and women as such, so i wont ever again.
i have come to appreciate girls, in every way i can. whether they are friends or not. i was ashamed of being a woman but right now. its the best i can be and i wont ask for anyhting else.
I love women!!!!!! The way we relate to our gender identity can be so complicated and you explored that gracefully and thoughtfully 🤍