The Repression of the Feminine
A Journey Through Feminist Anger
I have never encountered anyone who says women don’t have a right to express anger.
In the feminist discourse, there are many who conflate the use of the term “angry feminist” with meaning a woman does not have a right to express this particular emotion. It’s an important distinction to make.
This argument—that anyone perturbed by the manner in which modern feminists put forth their arguments is disallowing a woman’s anger—is a spurious claim which seeks once again to deflect responsibility and blame the other.
When we’re on the defensive (as feminists are); when we’re righteous in our actions, we’re so consumed by our own narrow worldview and the validity of our own behaviour, that we become unreceptive to the detriment of our personal growth. We also often fail to take on feedback or consider how our exploits affect others. It’s a selfish road to take.
Of recent interest to me is the egregious use of “righteous anger” within feminist circles to justify their antisocial and inappropriate behaviour and prevent people calling them out on this behaviour.
Yes, I understand these two words are subjective — what is antisocial or inappropriate to one may be social or appropriate to another — however I wish to explore cases where women are aware this behaviour is undesirable, yet continue with the notion it is “righteous” in order to maintain their stance of victimhood and justify toxic rhetoric and acting out.
Contemporary feminists are so caught up in their RIGHT to be angry, they are blind to the fact that their permanently indignant demeanour attracts such attention. Like attracts like.
Such women fail to see it is not their anger people are concerned about, but their poisonous approach to life. Their continual defiance—“smash the Patriarchy”—results in people genuinely not wanting to associate with them. (And then they use this opportunity to make it about “women not being allowed to express anger”.)
An absence of the capability or willingness to self-reflect affords feminists the chance to blame all others except the self.
In perpetual battle, the modern feminist wants to be a warrior. Valiantly swinging her sword, she desperately fights, defies convention, and screams loudly. But it falls on deaf ears—it’s all in earnest.
Yes, women have every right to be angry. We should all be angry at the state of our world. Though I question whether defiance against every mother’s son is a fruitful vehicle for societal transformation and personal healing?
I don’t believe it is.
In her ceaseless defiance, the contemporary feminist has forgotten what it feels like to surrender. She believes surrender means to lose, to be less than, to accede to—to “let men win”.
In her quest to achieve equal status to men, she has identified with the masculine—and robbed herself of the primal feminine.
A woman disconnected from her feminine will “seek power and authority either by becoming like men or becoming liked by men.”¹ When a woman believes she exists only by male definition or male attention she becomes alienated from her “own force of creativity, from healthy relationships with men, and from the spontaneity and vitality of living in the moment.”²
She believes her righteous anger is the feminine rising. It is in fact, her desire for approval and acceptance from the masculine that drives this behaviour.
“She measures her own competence, intelligence, and self-worth in relation to…other men.”³
In defiance of the ‘gender role’ thrust upon her, she spruiks for her freedom, refusing to be pigeonholed in any way, shape or form. She carries the full feminine force within her, yet it lays dormant. It has the power to drive her, guide her, but she repudiates it. She doesn’t want it.
She wants to be like him. And yet, she despises him. She is split in two.
In her unremittingly defensive state, she has forgotten how to surrender. Alienated from her feminine, the unbalanced masculine force within her is now a spiralling vortex of combativeness, criticality, and destructiveness.
She is cold and inhuman, and forges ahead no matter the cost. She is wounded, dry, and brittle. She demands perfection, control and domination, whilst demonising the men around her for the same.
Having taken on the lone ranger warrior archetype, she believes:
“I can tough it out.”
“I can do this alone.”
“I don’t need help.”
In front of her lies a fork in the road: Continue stoically alone or integrate her feminine nature.
If she is to become a passionate force to be reckoned with, she must begin a journey back to herself.
“The challenge for the heroine is not one of conquest, but one of acceptance.”
With this comes the chance to unite the two aspects of her nature; the opportunity to harness a positive relationship with the inner man and woman.
The positive inner masculine will allow her to support herself with compassion, solidity, and strength. Her acceptance of the juicy, green, moist, creative, nurturing feminine will aid in surrender to the forces she has disowned and repressed for so long.
She will begin to express her anger whilst embodying the feminine and this will be profoundly more powerful in nature.
To enlighten the world — as she desperately wants to — she must start with loving herself. She must find the courage to explore the depths of her darkness and take responsibility for what she finds. She may do this via attuning to the creative feminine whirling inside her and expressing it outwardly via creation.
Through this force she may also learn to foster herself and take care of her needs. For this she is solely responsible.
Dualism “has allowed feminists to blame men for the imbalance on the planet without taking responsibility for their own desire for control and greed.”⁴
She must release resentment, recognise judgement, and no longer blame the other. She is the other.
She must not idolise the masculine, nor repress the feminine.
She must recognise her separation from the feminine and seek to balance both archetypal forces within herself.
She must be responsive, not reactive. Reliable, not reckless.
She must no longer be a danger to herself and others.
She must channel her anger into positive pursuits. Yes, a woman has the capacity to fiercely roar, though most of the time she purrs. She is the unwavering source of creation.
And, not least of all, she must recognise men are not her enemy.
“Male divinity affirms and strengthens the forces of the creative and active female. Neither is subordinate. By complementing one another, their power is doubled.”
— Maureen Murdock
Have you, either through identifying as feminist or against men, fallen into the trap of comparing yourself to men?
Is it time to compare yourself to who you see in the mirror instead?
I’d love to know your thoughts on this topic. Please leave me a comment below to continue the conversation.
Aimee
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References
Polly, Young-Eisendrath and Florence Wiedemann, Female Authority, p. 49
Linda Schierse Leonard, The Wounded Woman, p. 17
Maureen Murdock, The Heroine’s Journey, p. 31
ibid
This article was originally published on Medium, July 6th 2017.