Saturday, August 07, 2004

Being other than…

the other woman.
Every contemporary woman at some advanced period in her life would have convinced herself and her friends that she will never wear the other woman’s shoes. A moral virtue has to be underlined. Normal decency has to be minded. No respectable woman, if she wants to remain regarded in society, would like to place herself in a highly questionable status – that of being the mistress.

By definition, a mistress can be many things. During the Regency period, or the English Regency, a mistress would be a woman in a position of high authority, control, or ownership, as the head of the household. Jane Austen’s Emma became mistress of the house following the death of her mother. A mistress is also defined as a woman with ultimate control over something: the mistress of her own mind. Old English periods gave this persona much grand reputation and power. A mistress may simply be the neutral counterpart to mister or master. But in modern times, the most manifested connotation to this title would have to be a woman with a licentious behavior pursuing a relationship with a married man.

I was once disapproving and condemning “the other woman.” No amount of influence, experience or knowledge was ever necessary for me to think otherwise. The idea of (anyone, me included) copulating with a married man abhorred me. There was no place in society for mistresses. This woman would be the destructible force behind the social unit we know as family. She was deceitful, selfish, and contemptible. She was simply… evil.

As time went by, my perspectives began to change. One other dictionary listing I didn’t mention above stir me in fragile conformity. With measure that indicates a profound, yet lyrical tone, I read this definition, or more appropriately, this designation, of a mistress: A woman regarded with love and devotion; she who has command over one's heart; a beloved object; a sweetheart [Poetic] -Clarendon.

Loving another woman’s man has never been a choice. Does anyone really believe that one chooses to love? The profoundness that we label as “love” comes in many forms. In grammatical sense, love is both a noun and a verb. Love is an emotion so fervent and sometimes even potent. In the same way, love is the act of bestowing, giving, connecting, and caring.
This love I feel for him lets me experience the joys of being a woman.
Loving him gives me realization of my triumphs as a woman –
Ylang2.


Why then can we not place ourselves in the other woman’s shoes when the virtue and sincerity of loving, and (having) an idyllic essence of this profound fervor be real?

Other than being the other woman, I would rather be the woman loving him.

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