To be good.
You were told how to dress and how to behave.
And yeah, you so want to be good.
So that everybody likes you and you are approved.
And you feel safe because you have got other people’s approval of being good.
That feels kinda of being loved.
Except it’s not.
This thing of being good is used to manipulate you.
To make you stay small and grey.
To make you give up on your dreams and desires.
To make you fit in.
My grandmother had three very beautiful and talented daughters.
As most of the girls, they were raised to be good.
Grandmother was the exemplary good herself.
At least it looked like from the outside.
She got uncountable medals on her chest (and wall) for being good (in the Soviet Union they liked medals a lot too.)
One of my mother’s sisters, Rota, was a walking celebration herself.
Super social, talented singer & dancer and cook she gave into being a good girl.
She good married, got kids, work a job she didn’t enjoy.
Her husband was beating her, and their children.
She began to drink heavily.
Their house was awfully dirty.
And didn’t like her much as I learnt she was backstabbing.
However, I learnt a thing or two from her.
She drunk herself to death much before her time.
The other daughter, Ruta, was the one who had things under control.
She married a pretty highly positioned military man.
Their house was perfectly clean, they were driving Volga (equal to Mercedes in the Soviet Union) and didn’t miss a thing.
Their daughters were raised in strict discipline, they never received a hug or a warmth.
I was scared of her.
I felt so insecure and ashamed of myself when she was around.
So, frankly, I don’t miss her much.
Actually, I am glad she isn’t around, so much afraid I was of her.
The third daughter, my mother, Mara, was the one who had been made to believe in sacrifice.
She would take many jobs parallel to being a small scale farmer.
So she had no much time for us, five children.
However, she was/ is a superwoman.
I don’t understand how in the world she could manage it all.
While her working several jobs, as well as the father we were dirt poor.
However, we hardly ever had no food on the table – my mother had the talent to create a dinner from thin air.
She is the one with green hands, could make an empty room luxurious and a Spartan will.
The tragedy is that all of these three women were/ are highly talented but never dared to express their talents.
They were stuck in good girls invisible prison.
And being the good girls is what got them waste their gifts.
Being the good girls didn’t bring them joy and happiness.
And it severely damaged their children and relationships.
So, I beg you, for the sake of humanity don’t be the good girl.
Allow your creativity and joy to lead.
Dare to follow your calling and share your talents.
Embrace yourself, your beauty & femininity.
Break the vicious circle.
Invest in yourself.
Allow yourself to express.
Dress up, make the hell out of your looks if it feels you.
Appreciate and see your true beauty.
Because you reap what you sow.
And the world doesn’t need more unhappy, unfulfilled women.
Sacrificing is so last season.
Now, it’s your time.
So forget that good girl crap.
Make this life as you please, will you?