Women as carers; we know this story well, we’ve watched it crush female potential since the start of history but ... now there’s something even more insidious — the self-care industry 'It seems we’ve all discovered another form of caring. One that women can do, all day every day, without ever having to feel that we’re wasting our short lives, our energy or our minds.' My boyfriend and I were talking about success. “I feel successful because I eat fruit every day. Between breakfast and lunch.
I’m always full of vitamin C.” He is bemused. It’s strange to him, this idea of success — bodily care. But to me it feels gratifying, it feels good. To serve my body as if it were another. My, I think, virtuously. A man wouldn’t understand, I venture. You think success lies in writing books and rescuing people from fires and making money. I feed the body fruit. Good body. This makes me think of the children’s books. The books for boys — about train drivers and builders and firemen and postmen and all of the things that you can do when you dive into the world and begin to act. Well, boys can do. And the books for girls — about love and flowers and hugs and kisses and being nice and the colour pink. All of those lovely things that I so appreciate myself, deeply, and always will. And about the highest form of girlhood you can aspire to — princessness — where you don’t have to do anything at all because you’re rich in some mysterious way that you don’t think about. You just brush your hair and are lovely. You’d been peacefully weaving a friendship bracelet and talking about what kind of pony you’d like with a dear dear friend. And then this violent being appears, and you never understand what they’re doing or why All of this has been recognised and widely known, though not remedied, for a long time. Boys are trained to act, women are trained to care for others. We are lovely after al