"Making a diversion to the norm": the experience of growing up inside but outside Irish societal norms
The third in a series sharing the stories of individual Women of Ireland project interviewees
People who feel like ‘outsiders’ to a culture are often its best observers. They can see the wood even when they are right in amongst the trees. This is what makes Erin’s story so powerful and, for someone like me, so fascinating.
A woman of Ireland born and raised; Erin is half-French.
Looking back, she can see how growing up with a French mother meant she had different cultural references to most Irish people, and was often perceived as an ‘outsider’. From a young age, her mother instilled in her a strong sense of autonomy — that the big decisions in life are your own to make and you don’t have to do something you don’t want to do. Communicating directly was their norm; her mother’s mantra — it’s okay to say what you want because the worst thing that can happen is someone says no.
Yet, as a child of Ireland, Erin quickly learned that such a thing as making your own decisions or communicating directly and asking for what you want were more than just diversions to the norm. In the context of Irish society, they were threatening. In Ireland, when you ask for what you want, being told ‘no’ is not the worst thing that can happen; you are shamed and punished. Decisions are not simply your own to make but are subject to the views and judgements of others. While engaging in conversation is like walking across a mine-field; if you don’t deliver your message in the ‘right way’ —using the right words, with the right amount of indirectness— a mine is detonated; the other party left bristling with affront but not really knowing why, just something about how you said what you said offended them.
The repeated negative response and social punishment to her curious and authentic nature —her desire to ask questions and say it how it is— meant that by the time she went to college, she had learned to ‘put a cork in it’; to stymie her views and her way of communicating to stay safe. She learned, like most Irish people, that to self-silence is to avoid conflict. However, such a self-restricting act was not without a casualty — her own intuition. For a good while, she felt she couldn’t trust her own judgement of a situation because when she expressed it, people told her she was wrong.
However, these are the things she has unpicked and unlearned over time. She has come to recognise that negative responses to her ‘diversions to the norm’ are more about how uncomfortable they made other Irish people feel than what she actually said, did or thought.
Erin’s story is a timely reminder of, and a penetrating microscope into, the ‘closed’ elements inherent in Irish communication style that so often go unnoticed. Yet, as Erin beautifully explains, getting more comfortable with articulating what we want and treating one another with clarity could help save us from drowning in our own confusion.
“Technically, I am a woman of Ireland. But... I've maybe never felt truly that way because people around me have not accepted me the same way... as what I was perceiving around me [for] other Irish women. Because my Mum is French... but I was born in Dublin, and my Dad is from Dublin”.
[So, because of that] “I've always felt a little bit on the outside, and particularly because children told me that I was. Not in a nasty way, but just, I didn't have the same point of [cultural] reference as other people” [and that seemed to matter or set me apart from them in some way].
[Like, I’m considered] “exotic [when I meet people]. Even now [as an adult]. Which [is] really fascinating — I am considered exotic. Even when people don't know where I'm from, there's always this bit of a like, a head tilt to the side and like a 'Where's that accent from now?' Where's that accent from?” [and I just have a very neutral Irish accent].
[Which is] “interesting because we have become more culturally aware in Ireland and more globalised. And yet still, there's this small town feeling of 'No, but where are you from though?' and I've got that my whole life. ‘Where are you from?’ 'Sorry, now, where are you from?' And... I'd say maybe like, 60, 65% of the time, it's one of the first questions I'm asked. And while I've gotten really used to it now... the usual back-and-forth sentences, I know the conversation, I know how it's gonna go. And a lot of people are disappointed when they can't understand where I'm from”.
[So] “I've been greatly influenced by culture, or lack thereof [of ‘Irish’ culture], in growing up in Ireland. And, you know, I have my own culture, I have my own way of doing things”.
[Because growing up] “my Dad worked, and my Mum was a homemaker. And so having a French woman in the house all day, every day raising you, you're going to pick up different things than if an Irish woman was raising you in the house”.
“I was able to choose my own way and be more autonomous as a young person... because my Mum [instilled in me] 'If you don't want to do it you don't have to do it'. That was really my Mum, the whole time we were being raised [it] was ‘if you don't want to do it, you don't have to do it’”
[And] “that's a big difference from the stories I hear or the actions I see in Irish families, like pure Irish families —whatever that means— whereas my Mum never told me to do something that I didn't want to do. I mean, like, obviously, like clean my room and things like that. But when it was big things; when it was big things [like], this is a big deal to [me] developing as a person, she would leave me to make a decision by myself. And she's big on that though, in her own life; she hates people telling her what to do and, she really trusts herself and her own position in life. So, she gave me that, she gave me that gift as well”.
[But that sort of authenticity and individuality – of making your own decisions and not having to conform to the norm] “was muddied a lot... by other people. I wasn't getting that message from school, I wasn't getting that message from my peers and friends, that... you can do what you like, you can do what you want and the worst thing that people can say is no [which is what my Mum had raised me with]. But that is not the worst thing people... can do; in Ireland, they shame you! They shame you if you do not behave the way that is acceptable. And I got the brunt of that a lot until I learned to shut up really”.
“I really remember this time when I was really young. And I was at a friend's house... and I remember going into the kitchen and asking for a biscuit. I was like, seven, yeah, seven or eight. And I was really given out to [I was told off] for asking for a biscuit. I was shamed; like ‘it was very rude of me’ to have asked for something like that. And that I should be... waiting just like everyone... And we all know it's never about the words that were said it's about how they were said and how they were directed at me in this kind of disappointed almost slightly disgusted way of like ‘How dare you as a child’ — I was a child who wanted sugar—... and like my mum had always said, well, you just ask for something and someone will say no... But it's way worse than that in this country... people don't just say no to you, they really make you feel like ‘How dare you’ and you should be trodden on, you should feel small for what's just happened, because that's not okay, what you've just done. And it was a biscuit! So, I wonder then as well... if that's the level already over a biscuit that people jump to... how are people treating each other, like behind closed doors over much bigger things? Do you know?”.
“There's this minefield. This is another thing... I'm friends with a lot of foreigners who live in Ireland, and sometimes I can tell how they talk about their time in Ireland, and I start to ask further questions. I'm like, do you understand? Like, what people in Ireland [mean]? And then we get to these really interesting conversations where, they're like, yeah, ‘There was this one time I was in a shop and I didn't know what happened but all of a sudden they were so angry at me. And I didn't know what I did.’ And I hear these stories all the time. But I'm only hearing them because I know I know the outsider perspective of like, ‘but I literally was just saying something, and you freaked out’”.
“So, there's this invisible series of mines everywhere [when you are interacting with someone]. And you don't know that they're there until they're stepped on. And then it's too late. And then even the people who blow up at you don't even know that the mines were there themselves, until they're highly offended for some reason”.
[And if you step on those mines, by not adhering to the invisible rules of communication and social norms, or by being direct about something] “you're punished, you're socially punished every time”.
“Because it was really apparent when I went to college [that]... the way everyone behaved was very specific. And if I didn't fall in line, I was going to get into a lot, I was going to be shunned, you know, and I didn't want to be shunned”.
“And [so]... I learned to put a cork in it by the time I was 18, 19 when I went to college. Because [my natural tendency to ask questions and not speak indirectly]... was aggressively, —not beaten out of me— it was aggressively like pushed down by other people, I wasn't allowed to do that... it was like the world would blow up... the very carefully crafted House of Cards would blow up if I kept doing that” [if I didn’t behave the same way as everyone else].
[Then, because of that] I really trusted in other people's opinions over my own, over my own for a long time. I really lost a sense of trust [in my own appraisal and intuiting of a situation] ... people told me how things were, and I believed them... [so] I had a real sense of powerlessness, helplessness, and kind of like this destroyed feeling. [And yet] every time I was proven right — that actually my initial, my initial gathering of information in any certain situation was always right. And yet there were people who were more afraid of me telling the truth, that they would tell me that I was wrong. And [because] I was the minority [in not conforming to these hidden rules of social interaction] ... I just believed everyone [over myself]”.
“I'm very, very sensitive to relationships and relating to people. I would like to think I'm a very good communicator. And I like people. And I like people feeling at ease around me”
[But] “all the time [growing up in Ireland, it’s felt like] there's always been this wall between me and most people where I want to, I don't know, get to —not even get to the good stuff— I just want, ‘let’s unpack this’ and nobody wants to unpack anything. I suppose if they unpack everything [they are afraid], it'll just spill everywhere, you know, and people don't like when things spill everywhere”.
“Whereas to be honest, I think... Ireland needs a lot more clarity, and clear-seeing and directness... I think Ireland needs more directness and clarity and honesty, and kind of forthrightness, because [I notice that] people [in Ireland] feel very confused”.
[And] “I think people could be saved... and... that's not me being, that's not me over exaggerating. I think people are floundering in Ireland, I think they're drowning in confusion on why they can't ask for what they want... why they aren't in the relationships that they want to be in, why they're not in the jobs that they want to be in. Why are they alone? Why? I feel this kind of like, deep existential confusion on how they got where they are. And yet, when I, you know, because I'd be someone that gets to the nitty gritty quite quickly. And I ask questions —I just love asking questions— I want to know how people got here, what they feel about their life, and blah blah blah. And whenever I do that, there's this incomprehension on what I'm even asking because... there's like this ‘but no, it's because of this, this and this that I got here’... So, then I'd be like, so why don't you just ask for that then? Do you want that, why don't you just ask for that? And suddenly, I could just see there's like eight things in their way before even saying that question, let alone the consequences of having it, you know, cause you feel at a loss, you know, especially if you're feeling guilty about your life in general, asking for what you wants is the scariest thing ever”.
[And yet, I of course have not been immune to those aspects of Irish society] “for all of my natural instincts of being the way that I am and being as honest as I am... I have totally been sucked into the Irish way of speaking and the Irish way of giving a compliment, and the Irish way of giving feedback and the Irish way of telling you whether you like something or not. I'm not immune to [that[ because I notice myself if I hear my foreign friends talking, or if I, if I observe people of other countries talking about something, and they don't dress it up the way Irish people are supposed to dress it up, I get, I feel myself getting really, like someone has flicked, like flicked me in the forehead. Like [it’s] irritating and rude. And when all they're doing is stating facts, but there's no, there's no extra words like... Well, you know, when I did this [etc], [but they instead] don't add the extra words, they just say, ‘I didn't like that’. And then there's this like, affronting that I can feel happening. And then I have to breathe the whole time and go you know where this comes from because this person means you no ill will. Because you meet this type of person and [it feels like] they're almost uncivilised, but they don't know how to deliver language properly. It's very weird [just because they are not communicating according to the ‘rules’ of communication we have in Ireland].
[But] “I think it's very interesting that different behavioural patterns appear in people based on geography as well. And apparently, if you're an island, then you have a tendency — like apparently, Japan is quite similar in some ways to Ireland in that you do not say to people what you're thinking, because what if we have a civil war, we're on an island. We're just going to implode, you know, we have nowhere to go. So, you can't, we don't have space for conflict. But... you know, we need to learn some conflict resolution skills. We're just so conflict-averse [in Ireland] that now we're just running around in circles”.
[Like] “With my Irish family — [and] I will say, my Irish family and my French family, I am very, very blessed to have incredibly generous loving people on both sides— but my Irish family are extremely passive-aggressive, and they can't stand to hear the truth. I grew up being told I was a drama queen [by my Irish family]. That was a label that I had... and now... fair enough now... when I was in my teenage years, I would cry. I was so sensitive. I am very sensitive, and you just don't know how to regulate that when you're, when you're growing. So, I was the ‘drama queen’ [of the family]. And even in my 20s, I started, I started to kind of go, I don't think I'm a ‘drama queen’, actually, I think you can't handle the feelings that I'm trying to express right now, it's too much [for you]”.
“And so [I noticed how] there'd be all this intrigue in the Irish families [as well]. There'd be all this like, oh you can't say that now, but if you say it this way —I mean, they wouldn't explain this, but it was all in action— like if you say it in a roundabout way. Or if you say it in front of everyone as a joke, then that's you saying how you feel without any consequences, conflict, or confrontation. But [then] also nothing changes because you're not being sincere and clear with it; there was very little clarity and I really like clarity. I think a lot of people like clarity... [so] I was the one... who put my foot in it, I would say things that you're not supposed to say in front of everybody.... I would state the obvious, I would state the obvious all the time” [but in Ireland, you’re not supposed to state the obvious!].
[And so] “I learned to shut up... [and] I became a real people pleaser. I loved pleasing people. And I loved being the ‘Good Girl’. That was something my grandmother instilled in me, she would actually make me repeat, she would go, 'You're a cailín mhaith, what are ya?' And then I'd have to... she wouldn't let it go until I said, 'I'm a cailín mhaith'. And I mean, I laugh at that now, because actually that fills me with nostalgia now. But that’s... something I don't, I don't agree with now... I'm 30 years old, and I have certain opinions about how young people should be raised. And a big, a big trigger for me... is prioritising being good and obedient over everything else... and my grandmother and my Irish family were just all about that”.
[But I’ve noticed lots of differences between how my mother, being French, raised me compared to the Irish mothers of my peers growing up, and that was] “really frustrating to me... as a kid because she wasn't behaving like all the other mothers”.
[Like, as an example] “she wouldn't drive me at the drop of a hat, and everyone else's mother would drive them the second the child went, ‘Mum, can we go...’ Like, if I was there at a friend's house, and the child would go, ‘Mam, can we go to the beach? Or can we go over here? Can we go to the shops? Can you bring us to the shops’, the mother would drop everything and do it. And so, I did not understand why my mother wouldn't do the same. And so these were the things that was like 'She mustn't love me the same way that the other mothers do'. But she was just loving me in a wonderful way. It’s just [that her way of mothering] wasn't something that was culturally [the norm], [so I wasn’t] picking up on [it] outside of the house. So then, you know, she actually implemented a rule that I had to give her 48 hours notice to ask to be driven somewhere because she had her own life... There was this independence from me that I wasn't seeing in other parent-child relationships”.
“She was very... about the boundaries... and I hated that when I was young, but then growing up, I saw what a benefit that was when I watched my friends, and how they were being spoiled or neglected, strangely, by their family in that there was this real kind of, they weren't clear on their relationship with their parents. And I was really clear on my relationship with my parents, Mum anyway”.
[Like] “when I moved to college, I never went home. And my friends went home every weekend. And... it wasn't like —me and my Mum get along so well...I love her! And I actually would say I'm probably closer to her than these people who went home every weekend— But... I didn't want to travel three hours, three or four hours to get home, it seemed like such a big effort. And then [my friends] would say things like, I'm going to bring my washing home. And then their parents would do their washing and I was like; I was cooking my own breakfast when I started secondary school. My mum would sleep in, and I would make my own breakfast and go to school... she taught me how to use the washing machine. She taught me how to do this that and the other. So... when I moved to college, and so many people had this really weirdly [enmeshed relationship], I remember feeling guilty because they were calling their parents every day, particularly men. But the girls.... [were] calling their parents every day or every second day, texting them ‘I love you, good night’, like every day. And [so I questioned myself] ‘Do I not love my mother like that I'm not doing this?”.
[So, I’ve always behaved in ways that are seen as] “making a diversion to the norm”.
[Like, if I liked a guy, when] “I had a new crush... I am one of the only girls/women I know who says it to the guy. I say that I like them. And I said that from secondary school... when I liked someone, I said it to them [and]... it was terrifying. It was really scary. But I was like, well, I have all these feelings, where do I put them? And I'd say my friends were just shoving them right down into the deepest, darkest recesses of them and I just couldn't do that, and I would go tell, tell these boys and then they had literally no idea what to do with me. It was so funny, I got mainly no's!”.
[And then as well, when I went to college, I noticed how] “all of the girls... were playing you know, ‘The Game’. And... I just don't, I don't play any of the 'You have to get all dressed up. And, you know, put on the fake tan wear the heels' and you know, wriggle on the dance floor. And then a man must approach you and all of these steps that I was just... [like, I don’t want to]... partake. I don’t want to participate in this, do you know, in this whole dance”.
“I felt that, that you couldn't participate if you're a woman... you had to be this receptacle. This weird like, 'I'll just receive your affections. And then I must, and then I must be aloof. So that you like me even more'. And I was like, I just didn't understand any of that. And I hated it”.
“And I remember one girl [who]... I went to college with... years after [asked] ‘Can you just talk to me a little bit about how you seem to have made a decision’. She remembers me making a decision, like making a conscious decision to wear flats, on nights out, wear shorts, wear things that were comfortable to dance in, have a good time and not try to doll myself up. Because you're essentially in competition with the other girls. I mean, if you're really thinking that way, you're in competition with the other girls in the club. So, if they're all doing that, and they're getting male attention, then it would be understandable for you to go well, I have to do the same. And I don't remember, like the decision decision, but she was like you started just going to clubs in flats and just dancing and going crazy and stuff. And... she's like, how did that?... Why did you do that? Like, where did that come from?”.
“Like I would just dance with fervour, and I would dance with freedom. And there was the music and I wanted to hit all those beats as much as I could. And I just want to throw myself around the place. And, and so you know, there'd be a couple of instances where men would approach me and try to actually make me stop, try to actually calm my body down, they would physically, not in an aggressive way, but they would you know, oh, let's dance together. And then I would start dancing with them, but it was too much, so they would actually touch me to stop me. So that there could be more of this.... connection. But I wasn't sensing a connection from them. I was sensing like, you want to control so that you don't feel uncomfortable. But I like dancing like this. And if you can't handle it, then we have a problem, and we can chat about it, but I don't want to rein it in just because you want to kiss me”.
“And.... the way I look is a particular type. You know, I'm small and I'm curvy and I've got curly hair and I look a little bit European. So, there'd be lots of guys who would be interested, but only on this weird on their terms of like, well, you have to, you have to calm down”.
“And... that is not to say that's not valid... like... the men... [they’re thinking]... in order for me to... to connect with you, you need to, you know, we need to be on a similar level. And I would say that back then... I wanted to be fully accepted for all of my madness. And I didn't see the, I didn't, I wasn't seeing the need to channel some parts of me to connect with people. I was just off on one, do you know?”
“And... then I complained that no one wanted to like, no one was willing to work hard enough for [me]... [but] I think it was a level of protection as well that I was putting around myself that like 'I am kooky and mad, and if you can't keep up with me, then you're not worthy'. But that was probably coming from an ‘I'm feeling unworthy place’”.
“But the wearing of the flats and the wearing of the shorts was not a feeling unworthy place. I just wanted to be comfortable... so yeah, I made... a conscious change in my attire and my behaviour, knowing that it would... have consequences and I would get less attention from men. And I was, that was hard because I love attention. But I thought it was kind of nice that this girl realised that like no, I chose myself for a second... over the whole rigmarole”.
[But yeah] “I really like being a woman, I really, really like being a woman”.
[And] my perception of other women of Ireland [is that] they're forces to be reckoned with... [Yet] that [characteristic] is actually something I don't, it's something I don't relate to. Because of all of the cultural markers... all of the things I just talked about... I'm very different in my disposition to the average woman of Ireland, whatever is the average woman of Ireland. But I was at the Post Office today, and I was seeing this woman who was paying for her electricity, she was getting €20 on her electricity card. And she was, you know, getting her eldest daughter to run after her tiny lad, and she still had time to chat with the man behind the counter and also to smile at me... and she was like ‘go on there’, and then she was on her phone and I was watching her, and I was like women are so strong. Like they've so much, life and force and capability, and it's really astonishing... I don't know, there is like this inherent power that I sense from most Irish women”.
[Whereas I haven’t gotten the same sense from the men of Ireland] “I don't think they're taught to, I don't think they're taught the proper skills [for life]. Like, I mean, I mean, it's been said a hundred times, maybe it's not true, but it feels like it is true with the Irish Mammy thing. I think men are, men are like underestimated in this country! Actually, I don't think I've ever said that out loud... like men are underestimated. Like there is this weird dismissal of men, particularly by women in this country, and some of them will happily fall into that role, like my granddad. He’s just happy out, going for golf and carving the meat, that's his role in the house. And he made [the] money. And he's a wonderful kind man. And he's happy out in that role. And... my granny then is, like the, you know, she runs the house. And... all the social engagements... and she keeps everything in order”.
“But, I don't know, when I talk to the men who are my age, you know, who are trying to... basically... figure out their life —as we all are— but when I talk to them, there is just such a sense of, ‘Oh God, I couldn't do that. Or ‘How do I do that? or How? Where do you start? ‘Ah sure, I'll just go do this’, you know, ‘I'll just do this’... I feel like they're not taught the skills to be curious, and to try things, and this sense of a 'Can-do', do you know, can-do attitude?
“I would say, I have a lot of can-do.... and I have a lot of energy for life... and... I think I see more energy for life from women than I do from men, in my day-to-day interactions. There's this sense of listlessness, sometimes... I think women have more of this like, 'Commmme onnnn, let's do this', but [also] they're more adaptive to problems when problems happen. So... I don't know, [maybe it’s that] they can problem solve better. I don't think men in Ireland, the men that I've met in Ireland aren't as good at problem-solving [in regard to] life. Do you know, like, this isn't working out in this corner of my life; How do I rearrange myself and my surroundings in order to be like [this, or make this thing happen]?
“But what is most important for me is that people find a way to tolerate themselves. And they find a way to meet themselves and embrace themselves and to understand themselves. Because... if you can do that and if you can spend time every day getting to know yourself and understand your; like the shift that you've been through and understand... what you're carrying and what you're hurting over and what you love and what's really important to you... if you can do that, then everything else that —not that everything else is fine or anything— but you know, things change around you, when you start to address. Like that's really important to think about [for] young people... because you start out in this life knowing yourself very well. And then that, it has to be changed because you have to be able to function in society, otherwise you're just that person in the mountains, like just doing their own thing. So, I understand that, but it makes it very sad how some, I mean most of us change beyond recognition. And... I want young people to retain this sense of self, and to be constantly protecting that, that truest nature, wherever, whatever it is and how it's changing, and just be constantly understanding, like Ok, this happened to me in my life, it was horrific. And so, this is how I'm going to deal. You know, I need to be nice to myself, I need to understand, or I need to apologise... I think that should be everybody's job like literally, you should be paid to do that. And then whatever we manage on top of that is a bonus. Yeah, that's very, very important to me”.
Thanks for the book recommendation, I’ll stick it on the list. I’d read it based solely on the title!!
This is such an interesting interview. There are many points that I resonate with actually, perhaps in a less acute way. Growing up in a strongly Protestant house and area in the North and now living 'down here', I find myself wishing sometimes that people would be more direct, or having to curb my first response. There is, however, something unfathomable in the elliptical way of speaking, like an ambiguity which can be of value as well. I've had to learn to understand its presence and use it.
With regard to what Erin says about the Irish male wanting basically to be coddled, this is certainly true. I'm lucky to have a partner who definitely does not just leave me to carve the meat, but I think we Irish men do have an unconscious desire to be treated like that. These roles are built-up and reinforced in our psyches from when we are born.