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Health & Fitness

Women of Wonder

As Mother's Day approaches a wonder woman considers her beliefs and biases about gender roles and role models.

 

“When I was nine, Wonder Woman was my idol.  I harassed my mother until she finally bought me Wonder Woman underoos and then refused to take them off for a week.  My mom eventually convinced me that even Wonder Woman washed her clothes  and herself.  I never attempted to fly or lift cars as Wonder Woman did, but I did try one of her magic lasso tricks and almost strangled my dog.  After that, my mom repossessed my lasso and bought me a Wonder Woman bathing suit with a lasso painted on the hip.  No thigh-high red boots though.

To be displayed in a flag leotard, red boots, and thick gold wrist bands may seem ignoble, however Wonder Woman is the ultimate female figure.  She is characterized by honesty and integrity.  Her title defines her entity; she evokes admiration and personifies self-confidence. 

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Wonder Woman is respected not only for fitting into the outfit, but because she is committed to helping people.  She empowers others to resist the forces of evil, magnify their own strengths, and see the good in themselves.  I can think of no more honorable goal than to make a difference.  I believe I can achieve heroic status even without the red boots and wrist bands.  Instead of supernatural powers, I will endow myself with education, inner strength, and determination. 

As I’ve grown older I have outgrown my underoos and bathing suit, and have even taken the red boots off my wish list, but my admiration of Wonder Woman has never diminished.  Do you know any other woman who spends her days saving the world from evil and never even messes up her hair?”

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I wrote that.  About twenty years ago.  I can’t recall the exact date, but I’m pretty sure it was for a graduate school application.  I found it in a box while cleaning out the basement, typed on paper from an ancient dot matrix printer with one perforated row of holes still attached. 

Reading my own reflection is heartening and startling at the same time.  I was insightful.  And witty.  And fairly coherent for the fool I remember being.  In my search to find continuity between who I was as a girl and who I wanted to be as a woman, I chose Wonder Woman as my archetype female figure.  In retrospect, she wasn’t such a bad choice.

There isn’t much from my childhood that still fits.  The acid washed jeans are too tight, the shoulder pads are too big, the stirrup pants too awful.  But apparently my role model does.  After all these years I am still trying to be Wonder Woman. 

Or more accurately, a reincarnated version of the Wonder Woman I admired in my youth. Although I still strive to be worthy of the title, the job description has changed. 

Apologies in advance to comic experts and devoted viewers, but I was never a zealous fan; I bought a few comics, occasionally watched the television show, wore the underoos, and played with the Barbie doll.  I initially revered Wonder Woman for her power and prowess; there was something so alluring in the idea (and ideal) of a wonder woman - she was a princess and a warrior!  She had super-strength, super-speed, super-stamina, and super hair.  She did good and looked good while doing it. 

I was captivated by how she seemed to emanate strength and security.  She was smart, strong, and sexy; a formidable combination even if I was too young and naïve to fully comprehend what those words meant.  Back then my idea of feminine maturity was fittingly cartoonish; boobs, boyfriend, and bank account.  I was so focused on becoming a woman that I didn’t realize all that came with being a woman.  And I certainly had no appreciation for the wonder of it all.

My 9 or even 19-year-old-brain could not have fully understood - and certainly could not have articulated – Wonder Woman’s unique blend of stereotypic masculine power and confidence, feminine sensitivity and sex appeal, and genderless altruism.   Nor her ability to protect others from harm.  Nevertheless, even as a young girl I sensed something magical in Wonder Woman’s persona. 

Ironically, the early enticement of Wonder Woman was her autonomy and the strength I perceived she derived from it.  I so craved independence that I failed to recognize how much of womanhood involves being inter-dependent.  And I surely could not have grasped the abstract concept of juggling the roles of spouse, parent, and professional.   Now as an adult, my identity as a woman is so intricately intertwined with my identities as a wife and mother, and the struggle to reconcile those sometimes congruous and sometimes competing selves is exactly the type of balancing act I envision Wonder Woman being able to master with ease.  

Yet, looking back I realize I never really considered Wonder Woman as a spouse or parent.  But she gave birth not just to the myth of the modern woman, but the myth of the modern mother (in addition to a child with Steve Trevor or Superman depending on which version you read).  Somehow across the decades Wonder Woman became the embodiment of a female who had it all and who could do it all – the fact that she did it in a leotard and high heeled boots was just the icing on the cake. 

It is inconceivable to picture Wonder Woman forgetting to pack her child’s lunch, running out to the bus stop in her pajamas, or bringing store-bought cupcakes to the class holiday party.  I can’t imagine Wonder Woman snapping at her children, being bitchy to her husband, or uttering the phrase “Because I’m the mother and I said so” (and even if she said “Because I’m Wonder Woman” who could argue with that except maybe Superman?).   Wonder Woman would never go months without a bikini wax or pedicure.

And so I hold on to my lofty girlhood goals and my golden gauge of perfection.  I know Wonder Woman is a caricature, but it’s nice to imagine that she exists somewhere with the Tooth Fairy and Santa Clause.  Although she represents an impossible reality, she also serves as a reminder of what I aspired to be and what I have attained. 

I turned out to be a woman of wonder after all.  My costume of choice consists of ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, my unruly curls often subdued into a ponytail.  I opted for a few simple silver bangles instead of gold cuffs.  I never developed the uber-curves or the uber-confidence, but I am content and comfortable with the forty-two-year-old woman I have become.  I don’t possess super-anything, but I try. 

I am much stronger than I ever imagined I could, or would need to, be.  And it didn’t come from the gods, the belt, or the wristbands.   It came from struggling, and soul-searching, and schlepping, and surviving.  Speed wasn’t nearly as important as I had thought, but stamina certainly was.  And even without the bullet deflecting bracelets I was able to withstand the insults and injuries delivered mistakenly and menacingly.  I still covet the lasso though, as I wish I could have something more than my arms to wrap around friends and family that would guarantee candor and comfort.

I found an elite group of superheroes to surround myself with; a small circle of female friends with exceptional wisdom, humor, beauty, and compassion.  I underestimated the strength of the bonds that form from sharing the experience of maturing as women and how much I would come to cherish these relationships. 

Although I set out to change the world, my radius of inspiration and influence has shrunk.  I learned that almost all issues of importance are too convoluted for a single or simple solution.  But I also discovered that a small impact could be considered a great success.  And maybe one day all those little ripples will amount to a tidal wave.

I realize now that even Wonder Woman couldn’t do it all, and certainly couldn’t do it all flawlessly.  But that didn’t stop her.  And maybe at the end of the day when she came home, she peeled off her leotard and boots, put on a pair of sweat pants, pulled her hair back, made scrambled eggs for dinner and poured herself a glass of wine because she knew she had done some good, in high heels no less.  

 

Michelle is the Director of Youth Services for the town of Weston.  For the past 20 years she has been working with schools and communities across the country to promote children’s healthy development and preserve parents’ sanity. Join her on Wednesday May 15th from 12-1:30 at the Weston Public Library for a workshop on "Stereotypes and (double) standards: What makes a good girl and a bad boy."  To RSVP please email malbright@westonct.gov or visit the Youth Services website (www.westonyouthservices.org) to learn more about upcoming programs.

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