There is no such thing as a woman who doesn’t work. There is only a woman who isn’t paid for her work[1]. There are many studies, texts and discussions that have explored women and their position in the workplace. We know, for example, that office temperatures are often set too cold for female employees, because men run warmer than women. In fact, in my own office, some of us women had taken to wearing gloves to keep our hands warm enough to type. We also know that the protective vests used by policewomen are designed using a male frame- it is at times too small to accommodate breasts, or so big it leaves all sorts of gaps for bullets and knives to penetrate. So, we know, because we can measure, the physical burden taken on by women in the workplace. But what we have still failed to ask about, let alone quantify, is the emotional burden taken on by women in the role society has ascribed to them.
Women tend to play the role of caregiver, not just physically but mentally and emotionally too. During the pandemic, as I was living alone, I took to calling my mum every day, regaling her with stories of my triumphs and worries. I never stopped to consider, is it all too much? I hope not, but this led me to evaluate whether I had allowed anyone to take advantage of my emotional support or ‘listening ear’, and of course, I had – an old boyfriend who never quite understood the meaning of ‘give’ but was very good at the ‘take’. Society teaches women to be the bearers of their loved ones’ emotions and reactions, but we sometimes forget to teach our girls to set boundaries and recognise when lines have been crossed – when the ‘partnership’ becomes a little too parasitic. Women cannot be therapists for all their loved ones and often, these roles we play can lead to our own physical and emotional trauma, or worse. How can we quantify this toll, this invisible labour? In the number of sleeves drenched being the ‘shoulder to cry on’, the number of hours spent worrying how to fix it, the number of times she apologises just to make his anger go away? I need to think about that a little more, but perhaps I can leave you with this:
In the UK,
On average, a woman is killed by a man every 3 days.
62% of all women that were killed by men were killed by a current or former partner.
Nearly half of them had tried to separate themselves from their partner.
Of those that tried to or did separate, nearly 90% were killed within the first year[2].
And finally, a history of abuse was known in more than half of all femicides committed by a current or former partner or other male relative.
That means people knew. The courts knew, the police knew, their loved ones knew.
But
They did nothing.
We must do better at teaching our girls to set their own emotional boundaries, and teaching our boys to respect them. We must do better at understanding women’s invisible emotional labour.
Amruta Patel, from Baroda, now lives in London, U.K. and works as a Statistician for the Ministry of Justice.
[1] Invisible Women, written by Caroline Criado Perez. Published in 2019.
Amruta Patel.
There is no such thing as a woman who doesn’t work. There is only a woman who isn’t paid for her work[1]. There are many studies, texts and discussions that have explored women and their position in the workplace. We know, for example, that office temperatures are often set too cold for female employees, because men run warmer than women. In fact, in my own office, some of us women had taken to wearing gloves to keep our hands warm enough to type. We also know that the protective vests used by policewomen are designed using a male frame- it is at times too small to accommodate breasts, or so big it leaves all sorts of gaps for bullets and knives to penetrate. So, we know, because we can measure, the physical burden taken on by women in the workplace. But what we have still failed to ask about, let alone quantify, is the emotional burden taken on by women in the role society has ascribed to them.
Women tend to play the role of caregiver, not just physically but mentally and emotionally too. During the pandemic, as I was living alone, I took to calling my mum every day, regaling her with stories of my triumphs and worries. I never stopped to consider, is it all too much? I hope not, but this led me to evaluate whether I had allowed anyone to take advantage of my emotional support or ‘listening ear’, and of course, I had – an old boyfriend who never quite understood the meaning of ‘give’ but was very good at the ‘take’. Society teaches women to be the bearers of their loved ones’ emotions and reactions, but we sometimes forget to teach our girls to set boundaries and recognise when lines have been crossed – when the ‘partnership’ becomes a little too parasitic. Women cannot be therapists for all their loved ones and often, these roles we play can lead to our own physical and emotional trauma, or worse. How can we quantify this toll, this invisible labour? In the number of sleeves drenched being the ‘shoulder to cry on’, the number of hours spent worrying how to fix it, the number of times she apologises just to make his anger go away? I need to think about that a little more, but perhaps I can leave you with this:
In the UK,
And finally, a history of abuse was known in more than half of all femicides committed by a current or former partner or other male relative.
That means people knew. The courts knew, the police knew, their loved ones knew.
But
They did nothing.
We must do better at teaching our girls to set their own emotional boundaries, and teaching our boys to respect them. We must do better at understanding women’s invisible emotional labour.
Amruta Patel, from Baroda, now lives in London, U.K. and works as a Statistician for the Ministry of Justice.
[1] Invisible Women, written by Caroline Criado Perez. Published in 2019.
[2] The UK Femicide Census, 2009 to 2018. Published in 2020. https://www.femicidecensus.org/