From david.dinsmore@news.co.uk
Hi Sarah,
Thanks for your note.
Unfortunately, we don't have time for holidays here!
I'm glad you had a good weekend. I am a fan of the Guides - I was a Scout myself.
To save you any further effort, I won't be changing my stance on Page 3. It is a pillar of the paper, the readers (both male and female) like it and I do not for one moment believe it is the basis of all evil. There are, I believe, many much more worthy targets you could be turning your admirable attentions to. I will continue to enjoy the Twitter banter.
Regards
David
Wednesday 21 August 2013
Wednesday 14 August 2013
A Woman's Worth (A message to my daughter)
I cycled home today, like I do every day or at least Monday to Friday. It's not something I enjoy if I'm honest but then it's not a nice route as its quite busy roads and lots of crappy junctions. In honesty I much prefer running and despite always describing myself as "not a natural runner" this year I ran my very first marathon and I ran it well. It took me a little over 4 1/2 hours and I didn't stop, I didn't flag, I trained hard and I got the engineering just right. My body, with hard work, did an amazing thing, it carried me 26 miles and it didn't break. I feel proud of that, just like I feel proud of the other signs of my physical fitness like my resting pulse of 50 which shows a healthy heart and yes to some degree my physique which looks really healthy.
During today's bike ride however I had a strange little moment which seems like nothing if I describe it, but it brought back a sad reminder of a bygone me I hoped to forget. I stopped at some lights in my tight leggings and a man in a white van pulled up beside me. He had clearly been looking at my arse as he pulled up and he leaned out of the window to give me a look see. I thought he was going to make some awful sexist, Neanderthal comment and I was ready for that. As an emerging feminist of about 2 years now I had a whole plethora of comebacks ready - To question his motivation, to tell him I didn't require his approval or if all else failed to "flip the birdy". What happened though was this - he pulled up, glanced from my arse to my face and pulled is head quickly back in. That is about the third time I've noticed that happen in the last 6 months and I am utterly ashamed to say it totally disarms me. It makes me sad to my core in a way I can't quite fix.
Partly it makes me sad because I realise that no matter how long and hard I have fought and to some degree succeeded in judging my merit on my health and wellbeing, my achievements and my loving and gentle character I am still cursed with the legacy of my youth - valuing myself on the positive gaze of others. I'm not talking about others recognising my nice nature here or my not too shabby singing voice but my physical appearance - them liking my face, hair, long legs and sex appeal. Those bits my Mum told me that as I "had" I should "flaunt".
What were the roots of this? Well I suppose in some ways I was lucky, don't get me wrong Cindy Crawford I was not but I have since about 14 years of age always been able to "turn a few heads" and "scrub up well". My Mum was over the moon for me. I love my Mum, she has been a constant friend and support to me all my life and I never doubted her wisdom. She was clearly proud to have a pretty daughter and all through my slightly goofy, difficult phase from 12-15 she never stopped telling me I was beautiful and that I was going to "break boys hearts".
The change started at about 14 and it was really quite unnerving at first, realising you can walk into a room and influence the behaviour of some people, realising that even though I was only a child some men were already "chatting me up" - I had no idea how to respond. If I was going to fit into this "desirable" box though, I was, as everything else in my life, going to do it bloody properly. So I started going to the gym, running and keeping in shape. I thankfully didn't start spending ridiculous amounts of money on cosmetics, waxes or spray tans (this was before the rather unnerving infiltration of porn glamour into the lives and aspirations of teenage girls) but as a keen actress I did start playing the parts I'd seen the good looking women play in films. And did I blooming play it! When I started having relationships and going out I knew how to swish my hair in a sexy way, walk across a room to show my legs off just so, roll on top of a guy in bed in a dramatic and sexy fashion so he couldn't resist. I knew about sex too, oh yes....what noises to make oohing and ahhing and making it sound good, making sure I was at the right angle or in the right underwear. Did it feel good? .....Honestly I have no idea.... I wasn't focused on that at all, all that mattered was whether or not I looked good and whether it felt good to them. That was my role after all....to look sexy and be sexy. I don't think I learned from anywhere that I was supposed to be seeking out my own pleasure, working out who I was for me, what I wanted. I can't remember anybody telling me I was supposed to want anything for myself other than to look good. The woman on my Mum and Dad's bedroom wall and in the paper every day looking sexy and available was the one the men wanted and I could be the one they wanted too. Lucky me! I never heard these women speak, I never saw women in films ask for anything during sex, they didn't need to, they all had obvious, instantaneous and vocal orgasms form vaginal sex alone.
At 16 I met the man I married at 21 and had my first child at 23. Don't get me wrong there was other stuff going on here, I'm not one dimensional. I did well in school, I passed 2 A levels, trained in nursing and had a progressive and successful career. I was professionally ambitious and I loved motherhood and breastfeeding and had some great friends. But behind it all, at all times I was not matching up if I wasn't still sexy and desirable, if I didn't still get a few shouts or horn blasts when I dressed up to go out. If I didn't get some looks when I entered a room. Within my relationship too it took me 20 years to realise I could and should want something or myself other than to be the model wife and mother and only now at 39 after a divorce, a profound aligning of my self-awareness and a new found passion for meditation and mindfulness have I really felt I know my true worth. I have finally found me, I have found feminism and a passion for campaigning that has brought me into a group of people that are beautiful to their core and alive and colourful and inspiring in a multitude of ways. My life has depth and it has colour and it has the love of a selfless and warm man who sees the whole of me completely.
I now finally understand real sense of worth and worth that I wish to instil in my own daughter.
So for you my amazing girl I will not say - "If you've got it flaunt it", "you will break some hearts", "they will all come running". For you I want more than superficial worth based on a beauty that will not stand the test of time, of grief, or even of a bad night up with a sick toddler. I want you to want more for yourself and be more yourself than I even knew to want for.
So to my daughter I will say this...
You're worth is in the beauty you have inside and out, in the warmth and generosity and time you show others. In the talents that you were born with and have nurtured and have learnt and worked hard at. In your healthy strong body that is capable of amazing things. In the people you choose to surround yourself with and the fact they have chosen you too. It is in the very moment in which you are right now, in all the ones I remember of you in my heart and all the amazing ones you have yet to come. Please amazing girl, don't ever hang it all, or even part of it, on the fickle glances of strangers who have learned, just like I did, to value the wrong things. Who will reduce your value to a horn blow or a body part or an uninvited hand on your person. If I can somehow be sure you won't ever do that and then I can be sure that you will not feel sad, in in some much younger and buried part of yourself, that you can't quite reach to fix at 39, because a man you don't even know looked and then looked away. You are worth so much more than that Aeron and so am I x
During today's bike ride however I had a strange little moment which seems like nothing if I describe it, but it brought back a sad reminder of a bygone me I hoped to forget. I stopped at some lights in my tight leggings and a man in a white van pulled up beside me. He had clearly been looking at my arse as he pulled up and he leaned out of the window to give me a look see. I thought he was going to make some awful sexist, Neanderthal comment and I was ready for that. As an emerging feminist of about 2 years now I had a whole plethora of comebacks ready - To question his motivation, to tell him I didn't require his approval or if all else failed to "flip the birdy". What happened though was this - he pulled up, glanced from my arse to my face and pulled is head quickly back in. That is about the third time I've noticed that happen in the last 6 months and I am utterly ashamed to say it totally disarms me. It makes me sad to my core in a way I can't quite fix.
Partly it makes me sad because I realise that no matter how long and hard I have fought and to some degree succeeded in judging my merit on my health and wellbeing, my achievements and my loving and gentle character I am still cursed with the legacy of my youth - valuing myself on the positive gaze of others. I'm not talking about others recognising my nice nature here or my not too shabby singing voice but my physical appearance - them liking my face, hair, long legs and sex appeal. Those bits my Mum told me that as I "had" I should "flaunt".
What were the roots of this? Well I suppose in some ways I was lucky, don't get me wrong Cindy Crawford I was not but I have since about 14 years of age always been able to "turn a few heads" and "scrub up well". My Mum was over the moon for me. I love my Mum, she has been a constant friend and support to me all my life and I never doubted her wisdom. She was clearly proud to have a pretty daughter and all through my slightly goofy, difficult phase from 12-15 she never stopped telling me I was beautiful and that I was going to "break boys hearts".
The change started at about 14 and it was really quite unnerving at first, realising you can walk into a room and influence the behaviour of some people, realising that even though I was only a child some men were already "chatting me up" - I had no idea how to respond. If I was going to fit into this "desirable" box though, I was, as everything else in my life, going to do it bloody properly. So I started going to the gym, running and keeping in shape. I thankfully didn't start spending ridiculous amounts of money on cosmetics, waxes or spray tans (this was before the rather unnerving infiltration of porn glamour into the lives and aspirations of teenage girls) but as a keen actress I did start playing the parts I'd seen the good looking women play in films. And did I blooming play it! When I started having relationships and going out I knew how to swish my hair in a sexy way, walk across a room to show my legs off just so, roll on top of a guy in bed in a dramatic and sexy fashion so he couldn't resist. I knew about sex too, oh yes....what noises to make oohing and ahhing and making it sound good, making sure I was at the right angle or in the right underwear. Did it feel good? .....Honestly I have no idea.... I wasn't focused on that at all, all that mattered was whether or not I looked good and whether it felt good to them. That was my role after all....to look sexy and be sexy. I don't think I learned from anywhere that I was supposed to be seeking out my own pleasure, working out who I was for me, what I wanted. I can't remember anybody telling me I was supposed to want anything for myself other than to look good. The woman on my Mum and Dad's bedroom wall and in the paper every day looking sexy and available was the one the men wanted and I could be the one they wanted too. Lucky me! I never heard these women speak, I never saw women in films ask for anything during sex, they didn't need to, they all had obvious, instantaneous and vocal orgasms form vaginal sex alone.
At 16 I met the man I married at 21 and had my first child at 23. Don't get me wrong there was other stuff going on here, I'm not one dimensional. I did well in school, I passed 2 A levels, trained in nursing and had a progressive and successful career. I was professionally ambitious and I loved motherhood and breastfeeding and had some great friends. But behind it all, at all times I was not matching up if I wasn't still sexy and desirable, if I didn't still get a few shouts or horn blasts when I dressed up to go out. If I didn't get some looks when I entered a room. Within my relationship too it took me 20 years to realise I could and should want something or myself other than to be the model wife and mother and only now at 39 after a divorce, a profound aligning of my self-awareness and a new found passion for meditation and mindfulness have I really felt I know my true worth. I have finally found me, I have found feminism and a passion for campaigning that has brought me into a group of people that are beautiful to their core and alive and colourful and inspiring in a multitude of ways. My life has depth and it has colour and it has the love of a selfless and warm man who sees the whole of me completely.
I now finally understand real sense of worth and worth that I wish to instil in my own daughter.
So for you my amazing girl I will not say - "If you've got it flaunt it", "you will break some hearts", "they will all come running". For you I want more than superficial worth based on a beauty that will not stand the test of time, of grief, or even of a bad night up with a sick toddler. I want you to want more for yourself and be more yourself than I even knew to want for.
So to my daughter I will say this...
You're worth is in the beauty you have inside and out, in the warmth and generosity and time you show others. In the talents that you were born with and have nurtured and have learnt and worked hard at. In your healthy strong body that is capable of amazing things. In the people you choose to surround yourself with and the fact they have chosen you too. It is in the very moment in which you are right now, in all the ones I remember of you in my heart and all the amazing ones you have yet to come. Please amazing girl, don't ever hang it all, or even part of it, on the fickle glances of strangers who have learned, just like I did, to value the wrong things. Who will reduce your value to a horn blow or a body part or an uninvited hand on your person. If I can somehow be sure you won't ever do that and then I can be sure that you will not feel sad, in in some much younger and buried part of yourself, that you can't quite reach to fix at 39, because a man you don't even know looked and then looked away. You are worth so much more than that Aeron and so am I x
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