Sunday was World Marriage Day, and it got me thinking about all of the cis-heteronormative messages we get bombarded with on a daily basis. These messages play a crucial role in shaping society’s ideas about gender, especially children’s ideas. For example, what would a 10 year old girl say when asked what a ‘real woman’ looks like and acts like? She might say (perhaps after recalling the last episode of “Marriage at First Sight” that was playing in her lounge room the night before) that that a real woman wears lipstick and fancy clothes and has a boyfriend. When you ask her what she thinks of a ‘real man’, she might say that he is tall and strong and makes a lot of money. These kinds of ideas about men and women are taught to us from a young age - when we learn about what boys and girls should be like.
Growing up in a Greek family, all the messages I was exposed to were completely cis-hetero. From a young teenager I identified that the way that women in my community spoke and behaved was vastly different to the speech and behaviour of the men. I never knew exactly why, but I always, as far as I can remember, felt a deep sense of injustice about this disparity. In hindsight, the fact that I never saw any male Greek relative make his own coffee should’ve tipped me off. It was always the women catering to the men, circulating lounge rooms of Greek households, platters in hand, offering food and napkins. The men would only need to give a half-shake of the head, wave a hand or look away to indicate that we were dismissed, and to move on to the next person with our offerings. I just took this for what it was, though, tradition. What it was really doing was setting me up for a life of heteronormativity. I eventually realised that all the values taught to girls and boys are arbitrary - they’re chosen for us with an agenda in mind, and this agenda is pushed from Day 1.
Think about the last time you went shopping for a little boy or girl. These children are in their prime value-shaping and idea-forming time. Perusing the toy aisles, you naturally gravitate toward the aisle of dominant blues, greens and reds when shopping for boys, and the isle of pinks, purples and florals when shopping for girls. Little boys get toy cars and trucks for Christmas, Lego sets that involve building machines and robots, things that involve adventure like binoculars, walkie-talkies, water-guns and scooters - things you can take out back and get dirty. Little girls get dolls with changeable outfits, multi-coloured unicorns and stuffed animals, makeup sets, jewellery, and my personal favourites, miniature kitchen crockery and a baby born - things that require delicacy and maintenance. Almost as if to say “you better get used to a life of domesticity”. Twenty-five years ago I spent a whole lot of time winding up a fairy that, once let loose, spun up in the air and sparkled before you. Meanwhile, my brother was playing around with BB guns and slingshots. If he wanted to play with a doll, heaven forbid, my grandpa would’ve been a site to see.
Now back to shopping for toddlers, a.k.a. the projection of our ideals onto young children. Perusing isles of clothes in categories by age and sex demonstrated to me the categorical differences in how we raise children. While shopping for my close friend’s one year old daughter, I came across a white t-shirt that said “sup ladies” in green print. I thought it was cute, and that it exuded a sense of confidence and ‘girl power’ that I might feel when walking into a room of my close girlfriends. After consulting with my mum and a few friends it turns out that the t-shirt was made for little boys, and that instead, little girls’ printed tees featured slogans like “no boys allowed”.
This sentiment is echoed in the communications I often witness between fathers and their toddler-age sons. Little boys often get taught that their sisters need protection from boys, but yet they’re encouraged to chase girls. I find it disturbing and contradictory. Even from that young of an age, it’s acceptable for males to demand female attention, but not the other way around. There are messages everywhere communicating that females are to be subtle, vulnerable and pursued by males, and that boys are to be strong, dominant and the pursuers of females. It is assumed that all people are cisgender, and that sexual and romantic unions are created by the merging of the societally defined female role and male role.
The ways in which we relate to children has shaped the categories that boys and girls to fit into. Children become a particular way because they learn that being a boy or a girl means adopting certain characteristics, appearances, mannerisms, and of course, sexual preferences. Given this context, it makes sense that sayings like “boys will be boys”and “she’s a girly girl”didn’t just come out of nowhere. It was only until I got my head above the wavy waters of culture-shaped gender bias and engaged with open-minded people that I realised that gender is completely socialised.
One key feature that has become associated with femininity is the importance of appearance, reinforced not only by purchasing makeup and mirrors and hairbrushes for young girls, but also by what is told to them by their mothers, aunties, female cousins, and even teachers or other caregivers. We tell young girls that they look “pretty” and compliments are often given to their clothing. I often hear myself say to my friends’ daughters “what a pretty dress you have on”or “I love your nail polish”, and then find myself cringing for making appearance-related comments and further contributing to the disparities in the way we perceive boys and girls. An even more difficult thing to prevent from happening is the social transference of beauty ideals from female caregiver to female child. Females learn to relate to other females, and to look to them for guidance, at a very young age. Deeply embedded in our own existing gendered worlds, we conform to our daily makeup routines and appearance examinations without a conscious thought - well, not from us anyway. But outside of us, in the eyes and minds of young girls, the female beauty norm is further established and condoned.
Young boys, however, tend to be validated by their physical prowess, like how fast they ran that race, or how many times they won that game, or how tough they were in their play fight with their friends. The cultural climate of the past 50 or 60 years, heavily influenced by the baby boomer generation, dictates that males should be strong and rational, low in emotionality, and with an infinite capacity to protect those in their close circle. Think about this: is it more socially expected and accepted when boys feel angry or sensitive? I bet I know your choice.
Like many other girls across cultures, growing up I was taught that women had to be “proper”, well-kept, conservative and present a face that said “everything is great”. My elders would perpetually reinforce the rigid boundaries between womanliness and manliness; being a woman meant ‘x’ and being a man entailed ‘y’. The boys in my family were permitted freedom as part of the growth of their masculinity, and were encouraged to be confident and opinionated. The girls… we were given a lot of warnings, and there were a lot of no-no’s. I felt like things were out of my reach. Open-mindedness and academic learning was never really something that was fostered in girls in my community. It’s pretty clear how the validation boys received can set up a foundation for praiseworthy ambition and innovativeness. But when girls enter adulthood, if they’re outspoken they’re “rebellious”, and their boisterousness rejected or ridiculed, rather than revered. It’s no wonder there’s still a gender pay gap. But that’s a whole other story.
It can be hard to connect the dots between a comment you make to a child and the behaviour of an adult, but the dots are indeed connected. These rigid ways of thinking about gender that I was exposed to growing up influenced every aspect of my life and how I engaged with the world. It shaped the way I thought about relationships, friendships, fleeting interactions, and the way I felt about myself. Eventually I realised that my gender schemas completely and wholly cast a shadow over my true identity, and that women were made for a much greater purpose than the receipt of mens’ approval.
These beliefs about gender contribute to twisted patterns of thought and discriminatory behaviours across most domains of life, and we can’t allow them to grow any further. Now, I’m not suggesting that we stop calling girls pretty and stop commending boys for being strong, but the delivery of these messages needs to change. Girls need to understand that they’re valued for much more than their exterior, and boys need to understand that we appreciate their emotionality. I advocate for a more neutralised approach to gender; the categories need to go, once and for all. Let it not be associated with expectation. Let the expression of gender manifest organically, from a place of equal validation for children growing up in a time of relentless change and diversity.
And the fact that World Marriage Day was born from decades of gendered ideals and practices means it really needs to go.
Sam is a doctoral researcher of social and health psychology, an advocate for diversity and inclusion within academia and a mentor for feminist thought. She is passionate about helping people overcome psychological and cultural barriers to pursue a life of authenticity.