The World of Women… / The Pitfalls of Becoming a Woman

“Kati grew into a beautiful young woman.

Her girlish appearance made many hearts beat faster.

Even so, she often felt alone.

At those times, there was nothing she wanted more than a kind word and a warm embrace — and while there were always plenty of volunteers for the warm embrace, sincere kindness was much harder to find.

She increasingly felt that in this strange world, the needs of the soul mattered less and less, while satisfying physical desire seemed to triumph over everything else.

It was almost as though the entire school had been infected by a kind of sexual mania.

Yes.

That was exactly what it felt like.

There was no better way to put it.

Because the process of building and dismantling relationships was not limited to students.

The teachers participated quite enthusiastically too.

In her final year, Kati had to choose the subject of her thesis.

The teachers had prepared a long list of possible topics for students who did not have ideas of their own.

She could not find a single one she liked.

So, almost by default, she “chose” what remained:

Artificial insemination of rabbits.

That became the subject and title of her thesis.

She could not have cared less about it.

In fact, she could barely imagine why anyone would care about such a subject at all.

Why would rabbits even need artificial insemination?

Everybody knows that rabbits reproduce enthusiastically enough on their own.

Females are pregnant for around thirty days.

They give birth to five or six young.

By seven months of age — and in some breeds even four months — the young are already sexually mature.

Then the whole process starts again.

And the mother rabbit continues reproducing for most of her life.

Whatever, Kati thought.

The teacher carrying out the research would perform the experiments anyway.

All she had to do was observe, take notes and somehow turn the material into the dreaded thesis.

They went to the rabbit farm around ten times with her veterinary lecturer, who conducted the experiments with great dedication.

Kati took a notebook and pen.

She recorded dates, rabbit IDs, different results, quantities, frequencies, numerical changes and similar data.

Alongside the data collection, the teacher photographed everything in the cages and laboratory.

Even the samples beneath the microscope.

The journey to the farm took around an hour.

Each time, they spent another one or two hours there.

They did not talk much about anything else.

Mostly rabbits.

And school.

Then, on the final day of observations, while they were driving home, the teacher suddenly stopped the car.

He leaned toward Kati and tried to kiss her.

“What confidence,” she thought.

“Did he honestly expect me to just accept this?

Where did he even get the nerve?”

Nothing happened.

She moved away and politely said they should probably continue driving.

They did.

A little later, they stopped at a café.

Kati could feel the teacher was embarrassed.

He clearly did not want to simply drop her back at the dormitory.

She had rejected him.

Not dramatically.

Coolly.

And the offended young woman then began treating him as though he were invisible.

She simply ignored him.

The teacher noticed and tried desperately to improve the situation.

They entered the café.

Kati ordered a cola.

And the respected, authoritative teacher she had once admired began to look increasingly pathetic.

In fact, she no longer saw a teacher at all.

Only a ridiculous man.

A man who eagerly tried to pour cola into her glass while his hand trembled so badly that brown stains quickly spread across the immaculate white tablecloth.

It felt almost like poetic justice.

The hero who had initiated the kiss with such confidence had suddenly become completely ridiculous.

Kati leaned on the table, resting her chin in both hands.

At first she only smiled.

Then she could no longer hold it in and burst out laughing.

“Are you laughing at me?” the teacher asked.

“Sorry, but yes. It’s very funny watching you try so hard.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Kati was no longer a little girl.

She had already lived through serious disappointments.

But she always remained standing.

Rather than giving up on herself, she tried to become stronger.

Their strange conversation did not last long.

Once she finished her cola and the teacher finished the orange juice he had ordered, they continued on their way.

Several weeks passed.

Then the semester examination period arrived.

Everybody studied according to their own standards, but the fear of failing was present in every student.

Nobody wanted to return for a resit exam and lose precious free time.

The very lecturer with whom Kati had been preparing her thesis was examining them.

He called the students in one by one.

When Kati’s turn came, she approached the desk, selected a question and sat down to prepare.

When she was ready, she stood and explained what she knew.

She felt she had delivered a solid average performance.

When she finished, the lecturer looked into her eyes for a long time.

Then he said:

“Three.”

A passing grade.

Kati was satisfied.

But before she could leave the room, the teacher called after her:

---

“Although I suppose I can’t give only a two to someone I once tried to kiss.”

Kati felt as though a knife had been pushed into her back.

Inside, she was boiling.

But she said nothing.

She did not even turn around.

She walked straight out and could hardly wait to close the door behind her.”

I graduated from college in 1984.

Since then I have gained many more experiences.

The story above is one example of the pitfalls that can accompany becoming a woman.

It is an excerpt from the book I am currently writing — and from my own life.

I have lived in Australia for eight years.

I write.

I paint.

I sing.

In other words, I now do the three things I always loved most.

For me, a woman becomes truly complete through self-realisation.

Even if that happens only after the age of fifty.

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