By Daisy Wigg

Female. Feminine. Feminism. All these words have held power, promise and patriarchy for many years, shaping how females see themselves and others. Many of our ideas of what it is to be a woman or how to ‘act like a girl’ come from the examples we have around us, be that family, friends or strangers. Seeing how the generations before me have interpreted such coded and politically and socially charged words has allowed me to reflect on my own identity – how I relate to being female, a feminist and a woman.

Born in 1948, my nan experienced the rise, fall, challenges and changes of female rights and identity. Coming from a working-class East London family, she received a good education, got married, got a divorce, was a single mother and then a grandmother. All these experiences shaped her as a person and a woman; they shaped the rest of our family too. My nan was and still is my favourite person, my memories of her being those of softness, sarcasm, love and laughter. Despite her passing away in my early teens, I still account a lot of my femininity and womanhood of today to her: the perfumes I wear, the constant presence of a snack in my bag, how I act and how I dream.

My nan's example enabled me to grow up seeing womanhood as an independent and individual process, void of the presence of a man. In this matriarchal environment, education, careers and expression were the pillars, and whilst family was important it did not carry the nuclear focus I would later come to find.

As I learned more about her as I grew up, my nan's experiences and relationships prove to be less idyllic and simple than I first believed. Being a woman and mother in the ‘70s and ‘80s provided many challenges that I will never fully understand, and even despite my nan’s strength the sexism and womanising prevalent in these decades was unavoidable.

That many of her stories were kept secret until after her passing does not come as a surprise. Despite the strength I see within the women in my family, the systems of silence and repression linger between us. After decades of outside control and attempts at subjugation, the power of voice and sharing is still being learned. The want to respect privacy but offer support is a fine line that remains unsteady.

My mum and my aunt are also constant and continual female figures in my life. Watching them, it is clear to see the strong influence my nan has had, with each valuing their independence and autonomy greatly. However, despite growing up in the same areas and under the same influences, what each understands as feminine and feminist does differ.

My aunt chose to remain single and not have children. She has been important in my understanding that women have paths beyond those of stereotypical family norms. I believe the key here is that it was her choice. Gone is the narrative of being ‘left on the shelf’, as instead I have seen her choose an independent life, where partnership is not a finish line but rather an alternative path you can decide not to take. Despite this seemingly empowered and independent stance, her views on feminism and lack of identification as a feminist continue to mystify me.

Over the years, my aunt and I have had multiple disagreements surrounding feminism, be that our adoption of the term, our understanding of it or, as she often states, my ‘man- hating take’ on life. I have always identified as a feminist, seeing it as a key part of my femininity and an important cause for all women to take up. As I have grown older, my experiences with things such as assault, sexism and representation have only furthered my beliefs.

In my aunt’s eyes, this has not always been a good thing. What I deem female empowerment she can see as being over-zealous and an unnecessary challenge to the status quo. By no means do I count myself and my views as the authority, but it is interesting to see how our independence has shaped each of our views in such different ways.

Finally, there is my mother. The most constant and influential figure of femininity in my life. Without her influence, much of who I am today would be different, but navigating such a relationship and how it shapes one’s identity is not always easy. Growing up, it is difficult to see your mum as much more than that: a parent, a caregiver and someone you look like. An important step is recognising them as a woman. Learning of her experiences within the workplace, relationships and with me has changed how I relate to her, as she is no longer just mine but her own individual.

Despite the decades between us, our experiences share similarities, in both their joys and sadness. After years of tolerating sexist comments and actions, it is no surprise our opinions on what should be ignored and challenged differ. My mum has shown continual strength throughout her life, from being a single mother to becoming financially independent and going back into education to get her degree aged fifty.

Knowing the energy that it has taken to build her life, I do not blame her for wanting to ignore the small street comments, but it is such comments that we as women and everyone as feminists should not have to handle. Even though our tolerances differ, our support for one another does not, and the strength to be found in female friendship is a lesson I have taken with me.

Reflecting upon the woman in my life has led me down many roads, allowing me to learn more about myself and see them in more multi-dimensional and independent lights. The resilience it takes to be a woman does make me tired, but their examples also give me strength. Seeing their choices and joys has been invaluable. Following the lives of the women before me has offered guidance, support, and love, in both what I wish to follow and to change.