As it is required by the Handbook of LadyBusiness, I do have a mandatory LadyFriend who helps me pick out books and bags, nods in agreement after I'm done talking and sometimes talks; and even then only talks about me. Fine, I embellished a little. The truth is, often we agree so intensely on so many subjects, it seems like we're speaking a language only the two of us understand. It's an equally flattering and jarring experience to see yourself reflected in someone else, to such an extent. So a few weeks ago, I was down with what are commonly known as VulvaBlues, where once a month a monster looms over you and everything you say comes out lined with fire. In the middle of one such rant, I lost it and started crying, hysterically. She managed to calm me down after a while and we left it at that. Later that week, she confessed she had these fits of emotions too from raging fury to a suicidal calm, from feeling euphoric to wanting to be left alone, all in the span of a few hours. She thought she was the only one with these "mood swings". Over the next few days as I discussed the same topic of 'Female Hysteria' with my professors, friends and some ex-students of mine, one thing became clear. We're all 'hysterical'. Just like the time in Victorian England, a woman would be silenced and put in the attic -- Who can ever forget Bertha? -- under the notion of being 'hysterical', seems like we are also labelling ourselves 'abnormal'; for this 'fury', 'rage' and 'anger' that we feel can't be normal, can it? Especially when we know just where the problem lies. Or that was the assumption, anyway.
All these women I speak of are either feminist, Marxist, (closeted) atheists, political activists or involved in some or the other form of an anti-establishment philosophy; in addition to occupying traditional patriarchal spaces of being wives, daughters, sisters, mothers and so many other categories that are too complicated to ever pin down. I don't mean to insinuate that somehow these women I speak of are 'different' -- and by extension inherently superior (Ick!) -- or that women who don't fit any of the above labels have never witnessed the same 'fury', but rather that I identify strongly with these women, I could discuss at length and even seek permission to personalise and localise this collective 'Cultural Hysteria' that we feel. As it turns out, despite being so politically active, most of us lead ruptured lives, where what we are in our Personal Skins is so radically different from what we perform to be in our Family or Public Skins, revealing the TrueSelf only in a few safe spaces, having the Public Performative Identity gulp down huge chunks of our Private Skin. And to say from this fracture between the Public and the Private comes the 'fury' and 'hysteria' would be to easily and anthropologically further fissure our fragmented lives. Also being 'culturally hysterical' myself, such simple unraveling is a tad hard to achieve People of The Olde Interwebes.