Who determines our age?

Agirl with dark skin, unruly hair or a plump figure gets called out – to her face or behind her back – for not being beautiful. Her classmates bully her; the boys cast her off as unworthy of appreciation. Scrutinised for being too shy, too friendly, too sporty, too brainy, she grows up studying hard; because a girl should be a good student. She has to be thinner, shorter and fairer than the men, but smart enough to catch a good fish from the sea, and hold its attention.  

We know this girl. We've all been this girl. 

A recent conversation between women of various fields arranged by Dove and The Daily Star showed a video with young girls screaming out their ages in joy. "I am 5!" and "I am 8!" they voiced confidently. As it continued to portray women of different ages, it was clear that the older the women, i.e. in their twenties, thirties and forties, the more hesitant they were about revealing their age. It shed light on the unrealistic images of perfection that women struggle to achieve. Social media and the silver screen glorify the looks of young models and celebrities, and older women stop being celebrated after a certain age.  When some of them do attract appreciation, it's usually under the guise of – "How does she look so beautiful at her age?" Overlooking the virtues of intelligence, resourcefulness, passion, optimism, or kindness, we equate beauty with youth. 

As with all things, the cycle starts at home and in classrooms. Sharing work stories from running beauty salon Labelle at The Daily Star discussion, Sadia Moyeen mentioned a customer complaining about her daughter's dark complexion and her need to be "made pretty". Appalled, Sadia asked both mother and daughter to stop entertaining such demeaning ideas. It reminded me of my friend who was called a "fat elephant" by a teacher in school because her uniform belt kept sliding down to her midriff due to her shape. It horrifies us to hear of such incidents, and yet they're prevalent across most societies. With all our talk about women empowerment, how are young girls supposed to form any sense of self-respect when their own parents and teachers subject them to insult? How are they supposed to learn to fight the world when their basic foundations give them no strength?

Dr. Chowdhury Tasnim Hasin, a renowned nutritionist, talked about the oncoming wedding season in Bangladesh and the onslaught of clients it brings for her. Young brides approach her in a frenzy to quickly become skinny by their wedding day; some are brought by their parents and fiancés, who after a few consultations ask that the bride lose a few more pounds by the time the date rolls around. Other married women visit her the year round, worried about staying slim to retain their husbands' love, especially after pregnancy. "The stress level over these things in urban societies is beyond imagination," revealed Dr. Tasnim to our dismay. 

Somewhere between the fight to becoming beautiful young girls and mature women, women's freedom is further tested by other impediments embedded in our culture. "Meye boro hoye giyeche, ekhon biye dite hobe," summed up Sara Zaker at the discussion, addressing the stunted development of girls caused by this race to get married as soon as they reach a certain age. 

Eighteen percent of girls under 15 and 52 percent of girls under 18 are married off in Bangladesh, according to international statistics posted on the website Girlsnotbrides. While the Tk.1,000 fine for child marriage crimes do little to prevent the actual practices, easily available fake birth certificates and lowering of the legal age from 18 to 16 have dealt blows to the initiatives taken to tackle these issues by the government, UNICEF, Save the Children foundation and other organisations. Girls in rural areas and urban slums face the worst of it, where daughters' marriages serve as political or economic settlements – the younger the girl, the higher the demand, the lower the rates of dowry. Forced to drop out of school and work, these young brides face fatal illnesses including STDs resulting from early pregnancy and childbirth. 

The issues are more subtle in urban societies but toxic nonetheless. We are brought up in safe and nurturing environments, made to believe that we have the privilege to educate and strengthen ourselves as we please. Once we start approaching our twenties (if we're lucky to make it that far), it's time for education and career aspirations to take a backseat as we suddenly find ourselves in the wedding market, which operates on a set of complicated dynamics. We must be educated and intelligent enough to qualify for interested men and their families. We must delay our plans for that additional postgraduate degree or job opportunity so as not to scare off men by being "overqualified". Either that, or run the risk of settling for older men after we've reached our goals. Having spent years believing in the strength of our progressive environments, these sudden mixed signals aren't as extreme as forced or illegal marriages, but are hurtful and deplorable all the same. 

It is true that things are improving. Bangladesh has the third highest figure of women lawmakers across SAARC countries, according to a report published in The Daily Star. More recent updates have reported Bangladesh's lead in gender equity in South Asia, standing 72nd amongst 144 countries in the Global Gender Gap Index 2016. There are many more women working at organisations across the country, and more girls in schools than boys (though many drop out because they are married off at a very early age).  Further proof lies in the laws being drafted and advocated, and the countless families across the country which support and celebrate their daughters' dreams, including my own. 

What's important is to keep the conversation alive. Why must we be thinner, shorter, less successful and somehow smaller than our male counterparts? Why must our achievements wait until we've secured qualified husbands, out of fear that the men won't wait for us? Why must we stress over staying thin as opposed to healthy, looking young instead of aging gracefully? Why do we have to be white-skinned at all? It's important to keep raising the questions, and help answer them too. 

The operative word is "we". We as a society – as families, friends and institutions – must bring about the changes necessary; and as women we must keep reminding ourselves and others that we determine how old or young we are for our own dreams.