As a child, the author found themselves drawn to the comments made by their grandmothers about other women. It wasn’t surprising to observe the older generation, born in the 1920s, displaying frank sexism that they mistook as natural. The author did not fully grasp these views at the time. At home, the parents tried to ensure togetherness between the author and their brother, yet the dynamics at the grandparents’ house revealed a sharp gender divide. Some women offered hostile critiques of other women for clothing, appearance, behavior, choices, and even decisions about relationships or marriage. The environment carried a sense that women were judged for every move and especially for what they wore or how they spoke about life decisions.
In those early years, the author did not yet understand why this contempt persisted. The grandparents would lay blame on women and, for many, the contempt and exclusion of the wider world felt normal. In a backcountry setting where education and fair access to work were not guaranteed, women faced a system that restricted their roles. A dictatorship era compounded the oppression, treating women as servants to men. Some households believed women should be grateful for companionship, be compliant, and endure hardships rather than raise their voices. Those who did not conform were labeled as displaced or immoral.
There was a third challenge, the expectation that women exist solely to bear children. They were seen as instruments for use in labor, hunting, or farming, and if one did not fit this role, the consequences included social ostracism. The choice to become a mother was often not a choice at all, but a necessity. Men were presumed to be better, and menstruation, childbirth, and pregnancy added to the sense of ongoing hardship for women.
Against this backdrop, two contemporary women emerged as symbols of change. Isabel Diaz Ayuso and Carla Tuscany spoke with authority, offering opportunities and above all, freedom of choice. They demonstrated that the opportunities and autonomy many ancestors could not access were possible. These leaders were not born in the earlier era but in the late 1970s, as a dictatorship faded and society began adjusting to new norms. The teenage years in the 1990s brought a chance to shift the macho legacies of the past toward a more egalitarian future.
The author observed how men and women share different experiences and how fairness is often uneven. There is a stark difference in how individuals are treated, evaluated, and compensated. Recognizing this gap felt alarming and unjust. If all parties understood the situation, prejudice would fade rather than persist. Yet the lived reality included stereotypes and harmful judgments that still echo in daily life, as if women were objects to be scrutinized or controlled.
Despite these challenges, the author extends empathy toward the grandmothers, acknowledging the difficult environment they faced. Their efforts contributed to opening eyes and pushing for progress, even if their actions sometimes reflected the limitations of their time. The message to women who still harbor resentment toward other women is clear: there is a rich, valuable experience outside the wall of blame and backbiting. There is a world of potential that remains untapped until solidarity replaces opposition.
Ultimately, the author respects the journey of the grandmothers while embracing a wider vision of womanhood. The hope is for a future where every woman can pursue education, career, and personal choices without fear of judgment or coercion. The shared lesson is simple: recognizing the humanity in each other strengthens the entire community, and breaking the cycles of hostility empowers a more inclusive society for all women.