Suzie's Stories

In continuation to my study of Carl Jung and his idea of the feminine, I am enthralled at finding the section on 'the killing of ego'. A much-debated section where Jung seems to have left the worldly understanding of social norms and gone on to elucidate the need of certain 'deaths' in order to better connect with the sense of Self. Theoretically, that makes sense but as many of his followers have reflected, mainly female Jungians, the terminology 'killing of ego' instead of heightened sense of consciousness, can be detrimental to women. It may quite easily be mistaken as the need to erase a sense of Self as we have accrued, without considering the factors (social, political and cultural) and how we may have overcome some or all of them. My thoughts almost instantly veered towards the 'black sheep' women, the ones who have almost always chosen a path separate from what society laid before them. Such an injustice to ask them to erase their acquired sense

I'm back, quite surprisingly at the second floor of the library, in the corner and I have a nagging sense that my subconscious is exceedingly relieved by my presence here. Nay, my subconscious somehow has managed to prevail on the conscious to find acorns to get back to typing. An exhilarating experience of freedom, of who I am, and a key to the question that haunts me today, "What do women want?" I hope the question and the title itself drew you here for an extension of the misogynist jokes and popular culture references to an entire section of the human population. As a matter of fact, I am currently listening (on loop) the rendition of Baraye as preparation for another evening in support for women in Iran. And all the while, thinking of the many, many ways women have been marginalised in my own country and continue to lack agency or even be aware of its existence.  On my table is the library's copy of "Jung & Feminism" which attempts to capture the es

What if you could create a whole person out of your imagination?  When I first invented M, it was more to fit into a world of people who have so many friends. Who actively seek out other humans and seem to get along quite well and share secrets and experinces which makes their friendships strong and after the passing of an acceptable period of time, come to become quite adept at speaking for each other. If I need to explain why the concept baffles me, then perhaps you should scroll away. But I deviate, so more of that later.  'M' was, in part, my male alter ego. In equal parts, a friend, philosopher and guide. He was patient, kind, wise and dependable. He was a lanky fellow with a curly mop of dark hair that I would like to ruffle when I felt fiesty. He had a smile that reached his eyes, no dimples but a goofy giggle that would force me to break into peals of laughter. He seemed to appear magically at my side, in retrospect. He would be my sarcastic voice of reason as he pointe