Sisterhood is a verb

A post came across my feed this week from a friend went to an awards event. She couldn't get over the bitchiness in the room. The running commentary on what other women were wearing, the side-eye over who looked too good and the whispering about other women in the room. In the same week, another friend posted about the high school behaviour she'd experienced from women who'd been so nasty to her, that it almost broke her. All over a mistake.

I had an interaction with one woman, who I admired a lot, and her behaviour in a certain situation stopped me in my tracks. This is person who regularly posts about supporting women.

I often scroll past posts of women who spruik authenticity and vulnerability and have walked past me like I don't exist. These are the ones who shout from the rooftops about how kind and generous and supportive they are. The moment the audience disappears, so does the kindness. The passive aggression frocked up as 'just being honest or "or this is business' is like watching Superman go into his trusty phone box. Except what comes out isn't superhero behaviour.

Two months ago, we were frothing over female solidarity. International Women's Day saw a steady stream of wall-to-wall posts about lifting each other up, celebrating each other's wins, championing each other through the year, having each other's backs. There were hashtags, carousels, panels and pledges. Eight weeks later, it's back to running commentary on hemlines and backstabbing.

Not all women. I know. Just some. But you know what they say about a few bad apples. It's enough to stick in my craw.

I know sharing a gender doesn't magically create a bond between any of us. Human beings are inherently flawed. We judge, bicker, gossip and compete. None of us are perfect, and the saying about pointing a finger and having three pointing back at you applies to me as much as anyone else. I'm guilty of judging as much as the next person but it only happens in my head. I don't share the judgement to tear someone down. Not everyone is my cup of tea. There are people I dislike intensely. They probably dislike me. There are people I've no time for. But like my nan used to say...if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. So, I don't. It's none of their business if I don't like them. That's on me.

If we're serious about supporting other women, not just as a syrupy saying on a Hallmark card or a March 8 carousel, we have to admit that sometimes women get held back by other women. We love sisterhood in theory. Until that sister does something that irks us or rub us up in the wrong way. Then it's game on.

We love a woman succeeding, as long as she isn't in our industry, friendship group, or too close to home. The further away her win sits from our own patch, the more generous we manage to be about it.

Every time we tear down a woman down, especially if she hasn't done anything to us, sends a message. Quite often it's message about ourselves, our flaws and inadequacies.

It really does cost nothing to be kind. It costs nothing to keep your trap shut.

There's more than one seat at the table. The belief they're all full is a scarcity mindset. It's not protecting us, it's trapping us. The women who behave as if there's only room for one are usually the ones blocking the corridor for the rest.

You don't have to like everyone. Not everyone is going to be your bestie. That isn't the bar. The bar is whether you can act with integrity when nobody is taking the photo, when there is no caption to write, when the woman you're talking about isn't in the room to hear it or if someone is spilling dirt, you call them out. That's the version of solidarity worth keeping. The rest can come off with the dress.

As a very wise woman said at one IWD event, when people show you who they are, believe them. That isn't just what they say verbally. It's what they show you with their behaviour. Who they champion when there's no audience. Who they recommend when the name comes up. Who they pay on time. Who they freeze out. Who they pile on. Who they erase from the story when retelling it. The mouth says one thing. Their actions speak volumes.