Burning my cape

Wonder woman pins, posters, and other paraphernalia fill my office. They are reminders that despite struggles and obstacles that I can do it all. They are my self-given accolades of my hard work and of all the multiples role that I have played in my 30+ years of adulting. They serve to remind me that I have and can do it — that indeed, if I keep trying and working really, really hard at everything, I will reach the unreachable goal and be the academic personification of wonder woman.

For so long, I have embraced this ideal, telling myself over and over again that I can be a scientist, doctor, mom, wife, friend, leader, and advocate — I can not only do it all but I can also exceed at all those roles.

I have called on my special talents to reinforce my wonder woman image. I tell myself that I have the required physical and mental strength needed. Solidifying this narrative, I possess an internal golden lasso. I instinctively know, can see and read the truth. I attribute this power to innate hypervigilance but whatever the true cause of why or how I can do this, it reinforces that I can fulfill the legacy of wonder woman and be a true superhero.

The wonder women persona is perpetuated by my peers, my colleagues, my staff, my friends and myself. Look what I have done. I can do more. I can show others how to do. I can help others become wonder women too.

But.

Unlike wonder woman, my cuffs are tattered and they fail to protect against sexist attacks, my body suit is now faded and ill fitting, and my headpiece –well, it fell off years ago and I cannot find it.

No, this is not an essay about how women cannot have it all or how women have to choose career or family. Because those statements are perpetuated by a patriarchal society and impose a misogynistic value system onto women.

But, this is an essay on the false narrative that we are sold as women and especially as women in academic medicine.

By labeling ourselves or others as ‘superwomen’, it becomes a metric of success. If you do not reach superhero status, than are you really. truly successful? We (and others) have made this the rule not the exception. It is not just enough to achieve, you must super-achieve and you must do so at every possible level and in every aspect of your life.

I bought into this. I dove into this narrative with my lasso secured at my waist, confident that I could fly in my invisible plane, through all of the noise of sexism and harassment, oblivious to the turbulence caused by a misogynistic system and its supporters.

And, the worst part? I propagated this ideal, this goal, this masochistic image to others, to my peers and most egregiously to my mentees.

After 20 years in academic medicine, I have taken off the ineffective golden cuffs, thrown out the sexist costume, and stopped looking for the headpiece. However, I am keeping the golden lasso. I must be willing to see the truths — mine and those of the system. I must hear the truths of my peers and my mentees. I must see the truths for the generations of women that follow us.

It is way past time to stop perpetuating the superhero ideal to women. Instead, let us ask women what best serves them, what is their metric of success, what will bring them meaning and joy.*

Join me in burning our capes.