Defiance to Dignity: Standing Without the Struggle

Many years ago, and I’m talking decades, I was repeatedly asked by those close and not so close to me, ‘why don’t you have normal friends?’ I was defiant in my answers. Given I was a teenager at the time, psychological theories and the ‘grown-ups’ around me may have put my stance down to being rebellious, to p*** off the parents or, it’s just a phase. Not true. It was the foundation of who I was growing into and discovering what was important to me. The truth was I always had lots of friends and a good chunk of them would be termed as the ‘waifs and strays’. Which, as a younger kid meant the people who would get into trouble at school, those who had too much to say for themselves or they came from families that were deemed as less desirable than others. Or, in any miscellaneous grouping of ‘other’.

Whilst as an adult sitting writing this I can say, I didn’t even quite know what any of those slurs meant. But I knew how I felt, that my friends, specifically my own choice of friends didn’t meet the illusionary bar of what was acceptable. Therefore neither did I. I made bad choices with the people I surrounded myself with. But, I was insistent on sticking up for my friends and claiming that I could be best buddies with whoever I decided. My energy was loud, as was my determination here and completely overshadowed the insipid feelings of shame bubbling underneath it all. I couldn’t name it as that then. I just knew I was perceived as being something wrong. That I myself wasn’t this normal that people seemed to hold in such high regard. I have something to feel guilty about. People are judging me thinking I’m weird for having these friends and the stronger I became in defending my choices, the deeper that shame was buried along with whatever else I might think about myself. Of course I couldn’t have articulated that then. I was still a child.

Though my first memory of feeling like I must be strange was at the infants’ Christmas party. I was maybe around five or six years old and my mum took me shopping for an outfit and steered me towards the dresses. Now I won’t specify what decade this was, but I can tell you that such noted party attire for little girls was made of polyester with brown/ mustard or pink/ purple combos often with a panel at the front that looked like the doilies from old ladies’ tables. I cried. ‘Please mum don’t make me wear one of those, they’re really horrible, ugly and will be itchy.’ Though surprised, Mum said it was ok for me to choose my own outfit (she was good like that), so I picked flared corduroy trousers with bells on the bottom! Green and brown. Gorgeous. Mum said I needed some wedges to go with those (no health and safety risk assessments for a kid in platforms) and we chose a jumper to match. I remember Mum telling me that she thought I looked really smart but warned me that when I got to school all the other girls would have dresses on and I would feel left out. ‘OK’ I said. Thinking I’d be fine in my cool outfit. But she was right. I was the only one not in some kind of ‘pretty’ dress or skirt and I remember feeling really weird and like I was odd. Even at that age, and even worse, that I had let my mum down and why couldn’t poor mum have a normal little girl. She must be so sad and I must be an embarrassment. I never wanted to feel like that again or inflict that on her.

Obviously I couldn’t have deciphered those feelings verbally at the time, but I just knew I felt weird and different. What did I have to do to be a ‘normal’ girl? Was I really the only girl who hated playing with dolls and wanted to climb trees with the boys? Why wasn’t I allowed to do that? For years I just wanted to be a boy and play with Lego and anything that helped me learn. That was stimulating and fun. Reflecting back I always knew I was straight and when I grew into my own version of ‘girl’; feisty, sassy, outspoken, popular (I almost deleted that word, even now in fear of being judged, but I’ll own it) and fun, wanting to be a boy disappeared. It didn’t take me long to realise that was never truly what I wanted, but I didn’t want those restricting female conditions and conditioning either. They felt suffocating to me. Even as a straight CIS female I still had to fight hard for my identity. Though of course I had no idea that was what I was doing. I’m feeling an indignant surge arise in me even as I am writing this decades later. In some ways society is changing as we’re talking about this and trying to bridge gender stereotypes, yet the dichotomy is getting worse and the divides are widening.

More feathers were ruffled and eyebrows raised as I became older and my circles got widened; venturing out to different youth clubs and being exposed to all genres of music and the ‘types’ they attract. The first time I fell in love as a teen was with a boy of mixed race heritage. That caused me a whole load of issues from the racists and once again I was forced to defend my choices. Is who you fall in love with really even a choice, especially at such a delicate hormonal age? It wasn’t just me. Lots of my friends were in the same position as we had girlfriends, boyfriends and friends of all different backgrounds and ethnicities. We really had to stand up for what we believed in. That we embraced people dependent on their personalities not their heritage. The bigotry came from all demographics too. Not just from ‘the privileged’. We didn’t know that term or concept then.

I trained to be a hairstylist when I left school. It was a blast and I met even more people from different backgrounds and demographics. Life was rich! Many people I worked alongside were gay and fun was not in any way falling short. We had a hoot. However, outside of my ‘let’s encompass everyone and grow together bubble’ this was more evidence that I’d chosen the wrong friends all over again. ‘She even hangs around with gay people now’. Though the words were much more brutal than that. People did not mince their words back then and any prejudice was overtly expressed. Often with brutality. I was yet again forced to fight to stick up for myself, my friends and my right to be an open mined and open hearted individual who was just still finding her way into adulthood. Who yet was perceived as difficult. Had I been judged on my values and capacity to be a decent human being instead of people reacting with fear life would have been a lot easier. I never knew how or wanted to choose the easy option if it meant selling out and kowtowing to the bigotry.

I loved my eclectic life and the people in it. But it did become vary waring. I have never been able to understand why people were horrible about other people without knowing anything about them. That level of ignorance has always flummoxed me. Surprisingly, it was not always the white, straight men (or women), as often portrayed, who had the most to say. I’ve heard it all from all walks of life and witnessed (or been directly in the firing line) of threats and violence from ignorant people on all sides. Interestingly, often people from one marginalised demographic were vocal, opinionated and horribly prejudiced in their views towards another. That was baffling. Though as an adult I understand the complexities and some beliefs are imposed from family without question. I couldn’t help but think how difficult it must be for those individuals who happened to lie within the intersectionality of the two afore mentioned demographics.

Another peculiarity was ‘in fighting’ within certain groups would occur. Judgements from gay people around how other gay people presented for example. Maybe people were just trying to find their feet in where they were sitting in society. Though it was confusing. Eventually the only way for me to cope was to switch off from it all. I decided to just have my friends as my friends and block out people’s comments, directed at me or simply within earshot of them, and to stop outwardly defending my views. It was exhausting and I done enough. I had more than done my bit to evolve and preach to others in the hope that they evolve would too. At the time it often felt like my protesting had fallen on deaf ears. But now as I observe and speak to the people of my generation and older, they absolutely have become more tolerant. (I hate that word. Tolerant of what)!? But you get the sentiment. Thankfully peoples’ views have changed. Certainly in my scope of circles. So maybe my little contributions in protesting for what I believed in did start to shift perceptions.

Fast forward to now and it’s very confusing. In many ways the groups who were judged before are more accepted. Now however, there are new groups who are marginalised. All the gender discussions show us that people are finding it hard to find their place because of societies views. Much more so than when I just didn’t want to play with dolls and have the freedom to explore the more ‘masculine’ parts of myself. Though if I call it rightly I’d say society’s views of what femininity and masculinity mean. And it’s far more complicated now. Maybe the older generations can be slightly forgiven for not understanding non binary or

fluid genders, but that somehow seems to be spread amongst younger generations too. Now, for people who might be struggling with identity, or even not struggling but not accepted, there’s nowhere for sanctuary. With the hate talk on social media platforms, there is just no escape. In past times people were maybe not subject to hatred everywhere they went. Unlike now where we are glued to our phones and we all know the dangers of social media and vulnerable people cannot seem to opt out of such platforms where they may be searching for validation but finding the opposite. The pain for some people is around the clock.

Funding for support systems and structures are so low and those that need it often feel isolated. Which is why I feel I’m in the right place at Fighting Fear and feel blessed and privileged to help people. I have wonderful clients who are robust and dedicated to improving their lives and I love standing alongside them. So now instead of fighting for people I can help them instead. I feel like I have come full circle here.

Paradoxically, and I’m going to say this in the most adult and mature way I can, people are now not allowed to share their views without being cancelled. Whilst I would have delighted in cancelling many people all those years ago it wouldn’t have helped. How could I have planted the seed to change their minds if I had simply cut them off and closed down? I certainly don’t believe racists, sexists, homophobics, transphobics and fascists should be able to spew hatred with no consequence, but I believe slamming them down makes it worse. Two things happen here. People form groups who hold the same views collectively become more menacing and by not having the conversations and exploring difficult perceptions means nothing ever gets challenged in a productive way. Therefore shifts in attitudes become halted. Or worse, they double down, dig their heels in deeper, resulting in further separation and divide and they also (rightly or wrongly) feel they no longer have a voice. Whilst those of us who continue to evolve may think that is positive and seductive, these tensions are complex and worth exploring for everyone. That is the only way we are ever going to find any harmony, by educating each other and sharing our fears. We never know what impact we are having on other people down the line. Even if they appear like they are not listening, even the tiniest shift in mindset can make a huge difference in how someone might treat another person for the better. Rather than just talking, let’s keep listening too.

I am sure I still have many things to learn and my clients continue to teach me so much. I love learning about another human being and exploring their story with them. Being in a position to help them grow is always an honour and that is how I am an allay of decent humanity now. I stand with people instead of standing up for them. I’m done with all that defending, fighting for and battling. You won’t find me on big protest walks with a banner or a placard. I have long since passed on that baton. But you’ll certainly find me in the therapy room listening, validating and exploring my clients’ experiences with them. Encouraging and empowering them and hopefully being a part of their own growth, emotional landscape and identity as they explore their values and who they want to be in the world. In all my working life I have been blessed as a hairstylist, an actor and therapist that get to work with so many beautiful and courageous people. I just never stop being curious about people and our collective humanness and if I can continue to make small differences for the better then I’m all good with that. Standing without the struggle