Page 85 of Barging In
“Stockholm syndrome,” Victoria sniffed with amusement as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Exactly. And each generation of women enables the next set of men when they raise their children. It burdens the women of that next generation because at the end of the day, men have got to want to do something in order to do it. All we ever show them is they don’t have to,” Clem said with a noisy exhale.
“We only do that because it’s easier to do something yourself than watch someone do a half-arsed job — I know that from experience with Drew. And it’s not like I’ll be raising children. As I’ve come to terms with not having them, I’ve realised the simplest contribution I’ve made to this world is not having contributed to it.” Victoria shrugged. “How do you even begin to fix the problem?”
“Women have got to say it has to change, and men have got to agree.” Clem pulled a discouraged face. “I can’t see that ever happening. The boys of today are the men of tomorrow, but if we raise boys from birth to be dependent on women to meet their emotional and physical needs — and raise girls to believe they need to meet those needs — where does that leave us? It’s a vicious circle. I hope things change.”
Victoria sighed. “What’s the point in being outraged at something if you don’t intend to do anything about it? I speak for myself in that.”
“And that is why things will never change,” Clem replied. “I guess it’s easier for you to take that standpoint. You’re not burdened by ailing parents, juggling demanding toddlers and hormonal teenagers, or rushing about on school runs, all while trying to hold down a career to feel some sense of self and that you’re stillcontributing. You just have the wayward husband—” Clem gave a rueful smile and bit her lip. “Sorry.”
Victoria let the comment slide with a casual wave of her hand as she reached for her own glass.
“Women are so overburdened,” Clem continued, “they don’t even have the energy to look after themselves, let alone rise up and demand better treatment.”
Victoria eyed her, appreciating her enthusiasm.
“Sorry. I don’t want to come across as a ranting feminist,” she finished, twirling more spaghetti onto her fork.
Victoria put hers down and reached forward, placing her hand on Clem’s. “It’s fine; rant all you want. And for the record, I don’t see it as ranting. You speak with passion, and I love listening to you.”
She loved listening to anyone who spoke with passion about their interests. It was what she enjoyed most about spending time with Jasper, hearing his live lectures from the annals of history. And Drew’s shared passion for bringing new structures to life from the ground up, transforming forgotten buildings, was what had first attracted her to him.
“You aren’t juggling those things either, so why is it so important to you?” Victoria asked, noticing that Clem’s cheeks were tinged with pink.
“I’m a woman; it’s a woman’s issue. You don’t have to be directly affected by relationships with men to be a feminist, we all live in a patriarchal world. Every woman thinks in man, but no man thinks in woman. Some may be able to speak woman, but it doesn’t mean they choose to,” Clem said, glancing down at Victoria’s hand. “Why would they when man is their native language?”
Victoria withdrew her hand, picking up her fork again. She hadn’t even realised she’d placed it there.
“I may not experience the burden in the same way as others, but it doesn’t mean I can ignore it,” Clem continued, playing with the stem of her wine glass. “I watched female colleagues being treated differently because they had pressures outside of work. I listened to them complaining day in and day out about how much they had to do at home compared to their husbands. If I wasn’t a lesbian already, those women would have turned me.”
Victoria chuckled.
“We need to fight for equal pleasure as well as equal pay,” Clem said, tapping the table with her forefinger. “You know, I was actually overlooked for promotion twice before they finally offered it to me. Both times I was a woman of childbearing age, and both times the job was given to less experienced men who became my managers and expected me to help them. By the time I hit forty, they realised it was unlikely I would be having any kids, and I finally became as worthy as a man for promotion. It helped sway me to walk away from the company when the opportunity came.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Victoria said, grateful that she hadn’t experienced discrimination in her own career.
Clem shrugged. “It’s not just me; it’s every woman that gets treated like she’s a second-class citizen. But we should change the subject, before I get really ranty.”
As tempted as she was to hear Clem go into full rant mode, Victoria smiled and did as suggested.
“When did you last have dinner with a woman?” Victoria asked, only to realise it might have sounded like this was a date.
“Oh.” Clem hummed. “A long time ago. But… she wasn’t right for me. Sometimes you just know, don’t you? What feels right, what doesn’t?”
“Mmm,” Victoria mused, clearing her plate.
“So I ended it. That was a couple of years ago. It pleased my mum; she never liked her. Said she had sinister eyes.”
Victoria laughed and shook her head. “Your mum.”
“She was correct, though, about her not being right. Although, I don’t know what she had against her eyes. I think parents have a sixth sense about these things.” Clem seemed to realise the possible subtext of her words then and blurted, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to imply?—”
“It’s fine,” Victoria said, waving her hand. “They do. Whether we wish to see it or not.”
Clem flashed a smile and returned to devouring the last of her spaghetti.
“Have you always…” Victoria hesitated, unsure how to phrase her question.
