Philosophy — Pénélope Delaur

On the frustration of my bittersweet smiles

‘It is only people who possess firmness who can possess true gentleness. In those who appear gentle it is generally only weakness, which is readily converted into harshness.’ De La Rochefoucauld, Moral maxims (479).

I was never firm. I’ve always looked for compromises in a gentle way, surely out of fear of conflict. But I never thought of my gentleness as a weakness. I believed it made me stronger. Yet, over time, and now that I read his lines, harshness arises in the form of resentments and frustrations hiding behind my bittersweet smiles.

I’m an extremely diplomatic woman – very idealistic, too. I essentially believe that disagreements can be overcome with consensual solutions, provided that we listen to each other, communicate, and never give up. It takes gentleness to stay engaged in such a process, it’s true, but De La Rochefoucauld is right: above all, it takes ‘firmness’, because we cannot weaken in one direction or the other. It is not a matter of emerging victorious in each and every one of our squabbles, but neither should we conform out of spite. It’s a matter of setting our boundaries, sharing our needs with firmness, and sticking with them, while holding ourselves back from greedily wanting more. True gentleness lies in the firmness we exhibit towards ourselves. A self-gentleness that mends the bitterness of conflicts, halts their brewing, and untangles the knots within our stomachs.

Few women have been prepared to face a conflict with firmness. We are usually taught empathy, which goes hand in hand with gentleness. We don’t know how to communicate; that is, to make ourselves heard and to be all ears at the same time. To communicate with someone isn’t only ‘to let them know something, reveal it to them, make them aware of it’, or ‘to share thoughts, feelings’ as the French dictionary Le Larousse defines it. To communicate is also to receive something from the other one, to become aware of their thoughts and feelings. It is an exchange that relies on each party expressing themselves with firmness and listening with gentleness.

Many of us do things the other way round: gentle speech, unflexible listening. We share our point of view delicately, so as not to hurt our challenger’s feelings, and withdraw with contempt when they command us to keep our mouths shut and our ears wide open – using more subtle words if we’re lucky. It results in indulgent, muddled, and disparate speeches of little value, because flaccidity is the enemy of intelligibility. So, we feel that we haven’t been heard, even though we were listening stiffly, ears closed to unacceptable revelations. This counteraction is a defence mechanism protecting us from another conflict that is even more terrifying – the one we nurture with ourselves and can only deal with as a last resort. We internalise the frustration of such a distorted external dialogue with a shameful, personal quarrel. Through this maceration and reiteration, we will develop a taste so acidic it dissolves our bowels. We weaken, and harshness catches up with us.

So, ladies, it’s high time to put an end to the apparent gentleness that patriarchy has roughly instilled in us to weaken our voices. Let’s confine it to our desires and needs, so we can finally assert ourselves with firmness – bitterness even – so we never give in to callousness because we haven’t been heard, understood, or defended. Let’s listen with gentleness and empathy, and condemn with tenacity and confidence.