The Two Fridas: embracing feminine duality

Photo of Les dues Fridas (The Two Fridas) 1939 by Lluís Ribes Mateu at Flickr

Neve Griffiths navigates identity, heritage, and womanhood through frayed threads

Knotted within a conflicted, liminal state,
I am split between two selves:
mirrored, yet never whole.
Connected with a single strand of thread,
A thin vessel of strength, a cord of hope,
weaves through our bodies, piercing through the fabric
of my heart.

The thread unravels,
Torn, worn and frayed.

An open wound gapes wide,
Carved by my culture,
Pulled by expectation,
Stitched with demand.

The needle trembles within my grasp
Threading me into patterns out of my control
Each tug pulls tighter –

One hand reaches for scissors,
The other clenches the past.
I sever the vessel,
Out comes a spool of blood –
staining the garments of my identity.

Will I come undone,
Or will I finally be free?

Frida Kahlo’s The Two Fridas captures the inner conflict we confront in the exploration of identity. It’s an intricate composition, determined by our culture, heritage, relationships and the roles we play in society. A fundamental aspect of identity is its fluid nature: a continuously evolving force, shaped by the experiences we endure and the choices we make.

In some ways, my identity is shaped by my parents, my mother being Indian and my dad British. I often feel as though I exist in a liminal space between two cultures. Others with mixed nationalities might feel similarly. My interpretation of the two versions of Frida, sitting hand-in-hand, reflects her embrace of multiple identities, despite the confusion she feels in coming to terms with them.

As a mixed White and Asian young woman, I’m inevitably influenced by societal expectations to behave similarly to other girls my age. However, I don’t see this as a negative influence as I never feel the need to suppress my opinions or culture to conform. Growing up in England, I often feel a stronger connection to my British heritage. Yet, spending time with my Indian relatives, most of whom live in London, deepens my appreciation for my cultural roots. I cherish that time with them as it gives me a sense of pride being a part of an enriching community.

However, my sister and I are among the few with mixed nationalities. We often feel out of place at family occasions, whether on our mum’s or dad’s side, as we sometimes struggle to relate to certain traditions and value. This feeling is heightened when we’re surrounded by relatives who seem secure in who they are.

Embracing my dual heritage and womanhood means uniting every part of myself

The duality of the two hearts in Kahlo’s painting, one exposed and wounded and the other healthy and whole, reflects the internal and external conflict women experience. The full heart emphasises the expectation for women to embody strength, while recognising the vulnerability they may hold within. This contrasts with the exposed heart which represents resilience and struggle, highlighting the ongoing battle with inequality, social expectations, and uncertainty about identity, which women face.

Expectations imposed by societal, cultural, and political forces define women’s roles, pressuring them to conform to caregiving duties, domestic responsibilities and unattainable beauty standards. Gender roles are influenced by biological and historical factors, with some women embracing or conforming to them, while others either uphold or push back against these expectations.

This tension between resisting and conforming voices is at the heart of feminist movements like #MeToo and Time’s Up, which challenge external pressures, societal norms, and restrictive gender expectations. Frida Kahlo’s work serves as a visual form of resistance, questioning traditional definitions of womanhood and exploring personal identity. Meanwhile, media, religious institutions, and political systems continue to reinforce the idea that a woman’s worth lies in her obedience, appearance, or nurturing role

As a young woman, navigating identity is a journey of self-acceptance. Embracing my dual heritage and the complexities of womanhood means honouring and uniting both aspects of myself, rather than disconnecting them. In doing so, I find strength in this duality and a sense of belonging in my unique experience.

For further reflection, Not Quite White, a book by Laila Woozeer, offers a powerful exploration of mixed heritage identity.

Check out People in Harmony, a charity offering support and resources for mixed-race individuals.