Oh how Far we have Come….

We women have a strange role in the World and it is one that is ever changing.  Just 50 years ago, we were tucked away in kitchens, cooking and cleaning.  In some ways things have gotten better, but at the same time, worse.  You see now I am not only expected to cook like Julia Child, keep my home as clean as a hospital; but also, work full time, and look amazing at all times.  I do not think anyone has ever referred to me as amazing, unless the word, mess soon followed.  Do not even think of gaining a pound after your wedding day.  That woman at your son’s school who works out all day and has enough plastic to be classified as a toy, is eyeing your husband and gaining self esteem by the number of her advances he is returning.  At the Holidays you better be able to bake like Betty Crocker and decorate like Martha Stewart.  There is no time for sleep for the woman of the 21^st century, but you better not let it show.  Is this really what our mother’s envisioned, probably not?  Sometimes I watch “Mad Men” and wonder if life was somehow easier for my Grandmother’s generation.  There is a sense of romanticism captured in the clothing and attitudes, but I am sure that the women of that generation felt shackled by their lives.  We all know that behind the beautiful exterior of the 1950s there was a harsh reality for women, who were expected to be seen, but not heard.  There was no discussion of spousal abuse, sexual discrimination, and women were expected to grow up, marry well, and be Moms.  That was it, can you imagine your only goal in life to be a good wife and Mom, I would be bored in a day. 

My life is far from boring, but, sometimes I long for a simpler time when I could be a Mom and not super Mom.  A time when my husband would bear the burden of supporting the household, paying the bills, and managing our finances.  It is not that staying home and running a household is not difficult, it is, and it requires an extraordinary amount of patience.  The fact is that these days most women do not have the choice of staying home or working. No, we are expected to do it all and do it well and with a smile.  I must have been sick the day the call came to my house to ask me if would prefer to stay home or work.  More then likely, for me, like most women in the 21^st century, that call just never came.  Maybe my husband grabbed the call instead, which is why I toil away all day at my desk as he rides his bike in the warm Colorado sun.  Is that not what we wanted?  Is that not we fought for in the 60’s, gender equality? 

I am certain the result of my Mother’s work is now my opportunity.  The best thing that came from woman’s lib movement was the support of women in sports.  Title nine, although controversial at the time, has been instrumental in shaping many women’s’ lives, but we still have a long way to go.  We can not even escape stereo types on the race course.  Women are looked down upon, like it is somehow a different course we are racing, somehow easier.  They scream at us to get out of their way, instead of thinking how amazing it is that we are out there racing with all the other obligations in our lives.  It is a common opinion among the men that we should not receive the same amount of money as them and are not worthy of the same sponsorship dollars.  We are expected to have perfect bodies, perfect faces.  More female athletes are known for what they look like, versus what they can do.  I have heard the comments on the course, under the breaths of our male competitors, calling us fat.  How many times do you hear women muttering those words?  I assure you much less.  Do you ever stop and think what a huge impact those words can have?  It is a well known fact that many female triathletes starve themselves to fit into these ideals at the expense of their health.  It is almost an unspoken truth that haunts our sport.  How sad would you be if someone you loved was fighting that battle? 

I am lucky that I am surrounded by such a powerful role model in the sport.  Mel is a fearless leader and empowers all of us on Melrad to flaunt our femininity and be proud of athletic prowess.  She is never fearful of going against the best men in the sport.  She is not scared to eat chocolate or drink wine and is just as comfortable in heals as she is in spandex.  She openly shares her personal stories of her struggles with food and her triumph over those demons. She keeps us grounded, but encourages all of us to be the best athletes we can be.  She constantly reminds us that racing is just one facet of our lives and how many successes we have off the race course.  The days I have spent with her shopping and sharing girl talk are just as great as the days we spent in the water, me attempting to keep up, or the days on the bike, where she dropped me by the first climb. 

I am in no way a feminist.  I have always been one to play with the boys.  I was one of the few women in high school in my AP Biology and physics classes.  I was more comfortable on the field, then shopping, but I do feel the pressure of being perfect everyday and I am far from perfect.  When I make dinner, it is always late, I never made it to Law School, my boys drive me crazy sometimes, and I will never be Martha Stewart, not even close.  I am certain that my husband wishes I did not always wear sweat pants or curse as much as I do.  I have secretly hated my body most of my life.  I wish I was smaller, skinnier, and still had a flat stomach.  I wish my nose was smaller and my face prettier. I secretly dream of the day when I do not have to work so hard, but that day will probably never come.  At the end of the day, all of us women should look at who we are and embrace it.  It is our quirks that make us attractive and our imperfections that make us unique.  To all of you women out there, hold you head high and know that you deserve to be an athlete, not matter your size or fitness level.  I mean how boring would the world be if we were all the same?

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 5th, 2009 at 9:06 am and is filed under Athlete Blog, Becky Batizy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.