Men-Centered Women: How Much Is Too Much to Tolerate?

Back from a night out, and I can’t sleep. I found myself googling, “Are there women-centered men?” because well, if I get into it, I might turn this into a book.

But how did we actually get to this level of androcentrism? How did we reach a point where a woman’s presence in public isn’t defined by her own comfort or existence, but by how she is perceived by the men around her?

It’s a strange, hollow way to live. It’s the difference between wearing a dress because you love the feel against your skin and wearing it because you’re estimating the number of heads that will turn when you walk into a room. One is an act of self-possession; the other is a performance for an audience that doesn’t even have to pay for a ticket.

We’ve reached a level of internalized misogyny that is so deeply baked into us (women) that we don’t even recognize it as a problem anymore. It’s the woman who can’t enjoy her drink unless she’s being watched. It’s the constant, frantic “checking” of the room, not for safety, but to confirm, “who is looking at me?.”

We have now become the critics of our own lives, judging our value solely by male standards. When did we decide that “fine” only counts if a man is there to confirm it?

Uh? When? How? Why? Sighs!

As I grow older, I try—I really, really try—to be more accommodating of other people’s views and lifestyle choices or what have you. Lately, I’ve even caught myself softening and saying things like, “Well, it’s all good as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone but themselves.”

But the more I ruminate on it, the less I believe it, because there is no such thing as isolated harm.

Men-centered women affect themselves, then they spill outwards to shape standards, conversations, and expectations. The effect of which is like paying an invisible tax.

I remember cutting people off when I was younger (I say this like I am a century old) because their headspace was entirely occupied by the male gaze. What to wear, how to act, how to shrink… and I had no patience for it. Those days, if a woman constantly fish for validation through the male gaze, saying things like, “OMG, why are men always looking at me? Do I look that fine?” I would shut the interaction down instantly and spice it with an internal monologue that is akin to a scream, like: “Please, nooo nooo. They’re just men. Mere men.”

Years later, I wonder if I was naive and if I could have been more diplomatic.

Now, I like to think I’m more self-aware, and I don’t rush to exit friendships the way I used to. Part of that is growth, and another is recognizing that I have my own quirks that can rub people the wrong way. But despite this new “wait and see” approach, the core of the issue still gnaws at me.

I meet women today who are accomplished, intelligent, and self-sufficient, like basically “power women”, yet, when a man enters the equation, it’s like the standards they possess (or do not possess) just plummet, and most importantly, their self-respect and the word “no” evaporates from their vocabulary. Maybe it’s the crushing pressure to “secure a partner” that is making us (women) act irrationally.

Yet, I ask myself, is being male-centred enough reason to distance myself from a friend or do I need to take some more “chill pill”?

In a bid to be diplomatic and not accept what I don’t like, I ask myself: how much am I supposed to tolerate in the name of being open-minded? Where is the line? We’ve all heard that silence is also agreement, so when do I stop being mute and finally say something?

When do I sit a woman down and ask: “Why are you doing this? You are far too amazing for this.”