On Being a Nice Lady

Yesterday was a double-header writing group day: one at lunchtime (three of us -  in person !!  - over coffee, wine and croissants) and then my second group (two other women and me) over zoom in the evening.

Before we got down to the nitty-gritty of discussing writing pieces, the lunchtime talk turned to…of course…words.  And the words being discussed were ‘nice’ and ‘ladies’.  None of us wanted to be called ‘nice’. And there were also objections to being called ‘ladies’. 

‘Nice’ was deemed too much of a, well, nice word. “It’s weak.” “It’s not interesting enough.” “What does it mean when you say someone is a ‘nice’ person?”

Does that mean he/she/they is a public kind of nice, doing things that are expected of them? But maybe all the while, wearing a social mask and seething inside at having to do or say the right thing? Are they tucking away their own feelings and disappointments? Are they being nice because they want you to think well of them? Are they just being a people-pleaser?

We all, to a certain extent, wear our social masks. But some are layered on thicker and heavier than others, hiding the authenticity of the person’s true feelings or beliefs. What does being referred to as a ‘nice’ person actually mean and why did the three of us object so strongly to being described this way?

We preferred if people called us intelligent or interesting. Or even cranky or cantankerous or grouchy. But never ‘nice’.  We don’t think of ourselves as nice. It’s a jacket that doesn’t fit. To us it means shrinking back, being wishy-washy, hiding our opinions and personalities behind a watered-down façade. 

And then – ‘ladies’. I didn’t have an objection to this, but the other two did (and I shall remember not to refer to them as ladies ever again).  Of course being called ‘girls’ is out of the question. We have too many life experiences under our collective belts to be called girls. 

But then, why do women feel so strongly about words that are applied to us? Men don’t seem to care whether they’re called guys or lads or blokes or fellas or whatever. Women are very sensitive to how we’re addressed. Labels matter. Words matter. As females, we’ve always had labels and expectations slapped on us, from the day we’re born. 

We’re expected to do this, be that, behave a certain way, not speak too loudly but not so softly that you can’t be heard and no swear words please (fuck that!), disappear into the background but step forward when needed, juggle roles and responsibilities, make yourself attractive but not too beautiful because that’s intimidating, be bold but not too aggressive, be helpful but not pushy. 

Is it any wonder that we now object to labels? 

Is it any wonder that we now wish to choose the words that are applied to us? I think we’ve earned that right.