A few days ago I published on my Facebook wall a post about how \”the strong woman\” puts up with everything and nobody thinks about her and her needs (In a nutshell). And I put that it is necessary to set limits as a comment. (The original text is there at the end of everything). Because of the sort of answers I received, I felt the need to elaborate.

And I feel the need to elaborate because the text is pretty wrong from my point of view.

I think it\’s not defining a strong woman. I think it\’s defining a person who somehow, for whatever reason, doesn\’t set boundaries. And much worse, she thinks that actually not putting limits is the definition of goodness, strength, responsibility, and all the like.

Somehow, we humans buy into the idea that suffering for others is super meritorious. And that this heroism deserves recognition. And that this heroism is leading us to Love.
Hmmm … no.

Let\’s start by looking at a small detail: Heroes, by definition, are dead.

And let\’s finish by saying that those who do not set limits are extremely angry and do not dare to express it.

So I am to rewrite here, each and every sentence of what was written. And I can\’t help thinking that the name is made up).
(And, although I think this applies to men, women, dogs, cats, and parrots, I\’m going to stick with the \”strong woman\” thing because we women buy into that little speech with embarrassing frequency).

A strong woman:

The strong woman has needs and desires and surrounds herself with people with whom she can express them. She knows that she can talk, take care of herself and ask for help if needed. And she knows how to pamper herself.

The strong woman knows how to help without having to be heroically crucified for it. She knows how to set limits and say no without feeling guilty. And she may look for someone to talk to and listen to her. She has no problem, in any case, with paying for therapy, if necessary.
The strong woman, if she is tired, knows how to say \”I\’m tired, I\’ve come this far\”. She knows how to look for help if she is falling, and to ask for it, if necessary. And she knows that she can fight, even with the guilt of not feeling \”strong\”.

The strong woman knows how to forgive herself. She knows she can lose her temper from time to time, she knows she can leave control in the hands of others and enjoy the scenery.

And hey! She knows that what others think is their problem and not hers.

The strong woman doesn\’t need to be recognized permanently. She knows that love and recognition are two different things and can tell the difference between one and the other. She may even prefer a low profile.

The strong woman knows for sure that she matters to a lot of people. She knows that she doesn\’t need to do anything to be loved because Love – if it is Love – doesn\’t set conditions. Period.

And she doesn\’t keep telling herself that nobody cares! That\’s what someone who plays the victim does. Not a strong person.

The strong woman knows, in brief, how to contain, honor, respect, and pamper herself. And she sent the title \”strong woman\” down the drain a long time ago.

Original Text:
When they see you a strong woman they think that you have no need of anything or anyone, that you can endure anything, that whatever happens, you will get through it, that you don\’t mind being listened to, cared for, or pampered.
When they see you as a strong woman they look to you just to help them carry their crosses. They talk to you thinking that you don\’t need to be listened to.
A strong woman is not asked if she is tired, if she is suffering or falling, if she is anxious or afraid, the important thing is that she is always there: a lighthouse in the fog or a rock in the middle of the sea.
Nothing is forgiven to the strong woman. If she loses control she becomes weak, if she loses her temper she becomes hysterical.
When the strong woman is missing for a minute it is immediately noticed, but when she is there her presence is taken for granted.
But the strength it takes every day, to be that kind of woman, no one cares.
Honor, recognize, respect, and thank the strong women in your life, because they also need to be contained, loved and feel that they can rest in you.
Text: Jallalla Ubuntu

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)

We are in the era of labels. Labeling is a fashionable sport. The “trend”. Hashtags up and down, hashtags with which we enclose and limit ourselves. Hashtags to make dark and bitter worlds. Hashtags to laugh and to cry.

Labels (These yellow paper prejudices) imprison us as much as they justify us.

I always liked a poem by the magnificent Tatiana Lobo that said “I like to be called a slut, because then I can make love with whomever I want”.

When I look at the phrase closely, however, what I see is the search for an excuse to do what I do anyway.

I endure the pain of rejection that comes with the slut label and with that pain I pay for my freedom.

Are you serious?

Yes, I’m serious.

The label justifies me, guides me, protects me.

We have all lived in closets made of labels. They put labels on us when we were children, we continue to believe them voluntarily and we defend them as we defend life: “I’m messy” “I’m fickle” “I’m crazy”.

(A valid parenthesis: You don’t need the label to define yourself. You are what you are, and in this interconnected world, you are doing the best you can.).

Labels, besides being defensive barracks, are voluntary prisons. They persecute us, blame us, punish us. They torture us. They can kill us.

And based on these labels that define us and with which we define the rest of the world, we judge the one thing that is impossible to judge: what we are. The other one is me.

And as our ego insists on existing, we transform the other and ourselves into labels. Based on them, we move away, or we approach. Based on them we attack, based on them we kill. We become islands surrounded by seas of “post-it notes”.

We close doors and, we remain prisoners in the impossible solitude of total defense.

#weareallidiots #evil #french #toxicpeople #slut #fag #gringo #dyke #stubborn #stupidpeople #Iambest #iamaslut #sonofabitch

Obviously, in a utopia we haven’t reached yet, labels are going to fall. All of them.

I mean, obviously: they’re falling in front of our eyes! We put them on and they fall off old and worn out because they are losing their rubber.

But we have to understand that if we want, all of us, to free ourselves from labels, from prejudices and all that stuff… Yes. I have to be the first one to stop labeling everything.

And yes, necessarily to stop labeling, you have to love yourself a lot, because the only thing you attack is what you hate in you.

If you let go of the label on the other’s forehead, yours disappears.

And Peace enters.

Change of perception changes the way reality is perceived.

And there was another guy -a little-known guy- who used to say “if you see the grass in the other guy’s eye, you don’t see the beam in your own eye”

He was right! Do you want to know yourself?

Look at the labels you put on others. That is how you define yourself.

My universe is a huge mirror of what I think I am.

And your universe is a huge mirror of what you think you are.

If we both let go of the condemnations, we both free ourselves. It is as simple as that.

Not because a god imposes it on us. Not because Jesus, Buddha, or Pacha Inti recommend it to us… Dude! The prison that will not allow us to be happy, are our judgments, condemnations, and punishments.

“Hell is other people,” said Sartre — (in a context that I do not know. It is important to clear that out) — No! Hell are the labels that we stick on others — which come from the ones we already put on ourselves-.

Now, yes, all well and good. And what am I supposed to do?

An example: If my aunt is toxic (and toxic is a judgment and a label), and I walk away because of that, do I have to approach her again?

You don’t have to do anything. Nothing at all. Just open yourself to the possibility that the next time you see her, she is not “toxic”. Take a look at her. That’s all. And if what you see suffocates you, close up like a clam.

(If you have a therapist, talk about it in the next session. After a while and interesting things will come out)

And as a sample, I tell a story (and send a message to the web, by the way).

About the wolf:

I have a friend, whom I love deeply.

One of those people with whom you open a conversation that only seems to extend over the years. We laughed a lot together, traveled together, cried together, and generally made each other happy.

A relationship without sex, but populated with love. And yet yes, I labeled him “toxic” many years ago as a result of repeated aggressions in uncontrollable fits of rage.

He is like an angry wolf at times, and he can bite hard.

Every time I think about contacting him again, the label gets through me and defends me. “And I get over it.”

I haven’t heard from him for many years. I don’t know if he has changed in his marrow, all I can do is wish him well and assure him if he reads me, that I love him very much.

Drop the label? For a second maybe. Just to peek to see if the “aggressor” is still there.

It’s my prerogative to do so or not.

(Is this a message? Yes, and no. If it is, it’s to a specific person. But if you are not that specific person, it is a story, which contains yes, a message).

How do we stop labeling?

First of all, treat yourself with affection and patience.

Your well-being and peace improve the square meter in which you live and from where you illuminate the sphere of your universe.

If you can’t handle the pain caused by what you see, that’s fine. Walk away. Without guilt (which is useless).

Pay attention to your thoughts. What makes you close up, become evasive, or distant?

Let go of other people’s labels, those of advertising, those of gossip.

Let go of the labels you don’t even know you have on. Check what you think of this one and that one. Question all labels. Question what you think you know about others.

Stop assuming and stop interpreting. Give yourself a chance for a day.

Give it a try. Look at your labels for just one day. And see how you feel.

Accept the fact that you are wrong… it is the most liberating thought. 🙂

Let go for a day.

Let yourself fall.

There is no floor.

This article was published in Medium: 

Olga Saenz-carbonell. \”Labeling, our favorite prison.\” Medium. 18 Mar. 2021. Web. 18 Mar. 2021. <https://olgasaenzcarbonell.medium.com/labeling-our-favorite-prison-7d57b6a7134b>