I find myself turning over a few ideas as of late. Inspiration to start the following diatribe came from a woman who was passing me on my way to work this morning. She stoppped me to tell me that “My outfit was going to give me trouble today.” Naturally, in my dazed, sleepless state, I hadn’t the faintest idea what she meant. I suppose my look of dumbfoundedness/shouldIbeoffendedness communicated that: she followed up with “…because all the men are going to want to go home with you.” I smiled and got caught at a streetlight. She walked on.
Timing is a strange thing. Last night, I felt more morose about my body than I have in months. (It should actually be illegal for a woman to look in the mirror for one specific week out of the month.) Today, I grab a compliment from a stranger on the street. I suppose it makes me wonder about the idea of standards, and to which set I subscribe.
The other idea I’ve been tossing around is the idea of “worth,” which is related. I had a recent encounter with a man who told me that I was worthy of his attention. “Worthy.” There’s something about the idea of living up to someone’s standards - or someone even posessing such standards - that’s partly upsetting to me, but also, partly thrilling that I can “match up” to them. He told me I was beautiful enough and brilliant enough to be worthy of his attention.
I don’t know why the conversation has stuck with me so, but I imagine that it has to do with the idea that I get shaken thinking about the idea of living up to someone. I constantly have a fear that my standards for myself are too high, or standards for a mate, for a friend, are too high. (Admittedly, sometimes I worry if they’re too low.) But why is any of this important? Do we perpetuate the idea of standards because we want to better ourselves, our surroundings, or do we subscribe to a societally-enforced notion of standards simply because that’s what’s in the daily repitoire? If the latter is the case, then what worth can we really subscribe to such filtering processes?
The questions: esoteric. The answers: non-existent. The issue: perpetual.
Who knows.
M
