The hidden Cinderellas

There are five types of women: the good, the wannabe, the fake, the bad and the desperate. And each lot is trying hard to find its place, writes BRENDA KAGENI.

I look around and find many women I admire; women who turn odds. Women who stand up and get noticed for the right reasons; women who live for what they believe in no matter the cost; women who make being a woman look intriguing and awesome. But I also meet women who make us look like a pitiable gender. No one is perfect I know, but many of us are just perfect at messing our own lives; we do not need the obvious thistles (that the MDG3 is fighting so hard to eradicate) to help them do that.

Among them, the group I feel so strongly about is the women who are so desperate for someone, anyone to love them. After many cold nights, bleak meals and empty weekends, a woman reaches a point when she says she can love anyone — all she wants is someone to go home to. Under different circumstances, I would tell them to get a cat or a dog, several of them may be (ask Oprah, they help), or even a baby… but anyone that is badly in need of love needs to find the love they seek for inside, first, or they will suffocate someone. Then hopefully the right man will come along and show them what a Cinderella they are.

too much baggage

Then comes the lot that is carrying so much baggage that even the strongest of humanity cannot put up. We all make mistakes I know. But you do not have to spend the rest of your life carrying the weight of your sin and of the world on your shoulders. Day and night you are haunted by the bad choices you made. Sometimes I wish there was a way of formatting a segment of our lives, like we do to a hard disk so as to rid the public and ourselves of some memories. Unfortunately, even when we succeed in getting rid of the physical evidence, in reshaping wasted lives, as for the emotional scars, like Joy Williams sings, ‘God only knows’.

wanna-be’s

And then there are the wanna-be’s. I love this lot. Like Cinderella watching her sisters from the cellar, they watch the world unfold before them and long to be part of the action, to be the ‘it’. When they are not content to just watch, they fake it real hard, hoping the facade will pass for the real thing. Sadly, so many people can see beyond the blonde wig, stilettos, scarlet lip stick and heavy mascara; the high pitched accented voice, the flashy hang-outs, expensive taste, attention-grabbing antiques and girl groupies, and even more sadly — they prejudge us by that. Money cannot buy class. And neither can its trappings buy substance. Deep inside we are just trying to fill an emptiness of which we do not know the source. We choose to let men fill that void quite often. And so night after night, weekend after weekend, they make their beeline, only they leave us emptier than they found us. It is actually like they take a piece of us away.

The more high-energy lot set their goals and pursues them, no matter the cost, no matter the personal compromise involved. Marriages, children, integrity, friendships, faith, loyalty, any virtue, become a small price to pay to get us there. I guess the question at the end of the day will be, ‘was it worth it?’ When we finally look behind us and see the rubble we left on our way up- estranged spouses, parents and siblings, troubled teenagers, the shell of lives we lead, from our lofty perch, we know it was not worth it.

The last, may be less pitiable group is the lost among us. No nice way of putting it — they are just a lost lot and more often, they do not know it. They are comfortable to live in their own little world, where they set their rules and live by their dictates, oblivious of whatever else is cutting around them or what anyone thinks of them. They are not just aloof; they simply do not get it, and do not care. They stand out wherever they are, badly. I guess inside they are just as lonely as the rest of us, just seeking their place in this mad mad world.

 

 

 

 

|   |    |    Comments (3) |   Add Comment

---