The Facets of Being a Woman (1): A Woman Is Supposed to…

A woman is supposed to…

We don't have to think very hard to complete this sentence. A woman should be graceful, selfless, nurturing, beautiful. She shouldn't talk too much, but when she does, she should have something intelligent to say. She should be strong yet gentle. She should stand on her own two feet, yet still need a man. As she grows older, she should take better care of herself and preserve her youth, but not be too preoccupied with her appearance. If she is going to become a mother, she should devote herself to motherhood; if she marries, to her marriage; if she works, to her career. And while doing all of this, she should also give her family the attention it deserves.

A woman, it seems, is someone everyone has an opinion about, but whose own thoughts no one feels particularly compelled to ask about.

Of course, not all women live the same lives, and not all societies hold the same expectations. Yet we don't have to look far to see how widespread the assumptions about womanhood have become. They appear in family conversations, television programmes, job interviews, or a few words spoken by someone we've never met. More often than not, they aren't expressed with bad intentions. The person saying them may even be convinced that they have a woman's best interests at heart. But good intentions do not mean that an expectation cannot limit someone's life.

So where do these characteristics we associate with women come from? Are women placed within these definitions because they really are this way, or are they expected to become this way because these definitions are repeated so often?

In her 1949 book The Second Sex, the French philosopher Simone de Beauvoir wrote a sentence that continues to provoke discussion today: “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.”

To read this statement as being concerned only with biological sex is to miss the heart of Beauvoir's argument. The point is that women are not defined by their bodies alone; the behaviours, roles, and expectations associated with womanhood are also shaped by social conditions. From an early age, girls and boys are not always taught the same things. A girl may be encouraged to be careful, protect herself, and think of others, while a boy may be more readily encouraged to be courageous, take initiative, and make himself seen.

These experiences do not unfold in the same way in every family. Yet when such messages are repeated, they can influence the way children think about themselves. Over time, people begin to consider not only what they can do, but also what they are supposed to do, what is considered appropriate for someone like them. Perhaps this is the most powerful aspect of social expectations: eventually, they no longer sound like instructions coming from the outside. We may continue living without questioning where the things we believe we want actually came from.

Here is an important question: Does a woman do what is expected of her because she genuinely wants to, or because she knows what she will face if she steps outside those expectations?

There is no single answer. Choosing a traditional life does not necessarily mean being unable to make one's own decisions, just as living outside convention does not, in itself, prove that one is free. The question is not which life is better, but how far a person is able to make decisions about her own life.

In A Room of One's Own, Virginia Woolf argues that women need a room of their own and financial independence in order to write and create. The room she describes is more than a physical space. It also represents the space a person needs to think, work, create, and attend to herself independently of other people's demands.

We do not have to consider this idea only in the context of writing. Anyone who wants to build a life of their own needs time, income, education, security, and personal space. Without these, freedom can become a possibility that exists on paper but is difficult to realise in everyday life.

A woman's decision to work, earn her own money, live alone, or make her own choices may still be treated in some circles as something that requires an explanation. By the same token, getting married, having children, or devoting time to family does not mean that a woman is not free. What matters is whether the choice is truly hers.

Freedom is not simply the ability to do something; the freedom to choose not to do it matters, too. Not wanting to marry, choosing not to have children, prioritising a career, or preferring a quiet life: each can be a personal choice. Being made to defend these choices is another matter altogether.

Why are women expected to explain so much about their lives? Why is the reason for remaining unmarried a subject of curiosity? Why is a woman who does not want children told that she will change her mind? Why is her appearance judged as she grows older? Why can choices considered ordinary for a man become the subject of lengthy debates when a woman makes them?

The answers must be sought not only in individual prejudices, but also in the social roles that have taken shape throughout history.

When we talk about women, we sometimes create another stereotype without even realising it: we treat them as a single group whose members all experience the same things, want the same things, and face the same problems.

Yet being a woman alone cannot explain a person's life. The family she grew up in, her economic circumstances, where she lives, her education, her personal experiences, and the opportunities available to her all shape her life. For one woman, freedom may mean financial independence; for another, it may mean having her family accept her decisions. One may struggle with expectations about her appearance, while another's most urgent concern may be building a safe life.

When we try to fit women's experiences into a single story, we overlook these differences. Defining women solely through their suffering is equally incomplete. Women do not merely struggle against the boundaries imposed on them. They are curious, they create, they compete, they make mistakes, they change their minds. Sometimes they are brave, sometimes afraid, and sometimes they disappoint others. They do not have to be selfless, strong, understanding, or exemplary at all times. All the contradictions that come with being human are present in women's lives, too.

Perhaps trying to understand women begins with giving up the impulse to create yet another ideal for them. Saying that women should be strong can become another expectation when they are required to be strong all the time. Advocating their freedom while dictating how they ought to live freely reproduces the very contradiction we claim to oppose.

Shouldn't we accept that women can possess different qualities, rather than valuing them only when they possess certain ones?

Let us return to the sentence we began with.

A woman is supposed to...

Perhaps instead of trying to complete this sentence, we should ask why we feel the need to complete it in the first place. Why are we so determined to define how women ought to be? Do we need to fit a person into a mould in order to understand them? And what happens when a woman fits none of the definitions assigned to her?

The debate Simone de Beauvoir opened decades ago is still worth considering. Social roles may change, but expectations do not necessarily disappear; they simply take on new forms. Once, a woman might have been defined by her ability to be a good wife and mother. Today, she may face the expectation of being a flawless employee, a good mother, well groomed, successful, independent, and capable of managing all of these things effortlessly.

New expectations are added to the old ones. Instead of expanding a woman's life, the list of tasks she is expected to fulfil can grow longer.

Perhaps the real question is not how to find the correct definition of womanhood. It is whether we can accept that women need room beyond these definitions as they think about themselves, make choices, and build their lives.

Who is a woman supposed to be?

Perhaps we should end with a question we need to allow women to ask themselves:

Not “What kind of woman should I be?” but “What kind of human being do I want to be?”