I don't know why in society when a woman demands perfection she

Hear the fierce cry of Janice Dickinson, who declared: “I don't know why in society when a woman demands perfection she is called crazy.” These words are not complaint but revelation, shining a light on the double standards that bind women in invisible chains. For when men seek greatness, they are praised as ambitious, driven, even heroic. Yet when a woman dares to demand the same standard of perfection, the world often mocks her, labels her unbalanced, dismisses her as too much. Dickinson’s words are a mirror held to society, exposing the bias that punishes women for the very hunger for excellence that is celebrated in men.

The origin of this statement lies in Dickinson’s own career in the world of modeling and entertainment, where women are often judged more harshly, their ambitions distorted into caricatures. In this realm, where beauty and perfection are currency, she saw how women who refused mediocrity, who demanded the highest standards from themselves and others, were branded as difficult or mad. Her words rise from this battlefield, not as bitterness but as truth: society fears the woman who knows her worth, and so it diminishes her with labels.

The ancients, too, offer testimony to this injustice. Consider Hypatia of Alexandria, a philosopher and mathematician who dared to seek wisdom in an age when women were expected to remain silent. She demanded rigor, precision, and excellence in thought—and for this, she was condemned by those threatened by her brilliance. Hypatia was not “crazy”; she was extraordinary. Yet society, unable to bear a woman demanding perfection, branded her dangerous and cast her down. Dickinson’s words echo her tragedy: when women rise too high, society calls them unstable rather than acknowledging its own fear.

History offers us another story in the life of Joan of Arc, the maiden who heard a divine call and led armies to victory. She demanded not only courage from herself but obedience from seasoned generals. Her resolve was unwavering, her standard uncompromising. And what was she called? Not visionary, but mad. Not a leader, but a witch. Her cry for perfection unsettled the world of men, and they silenced her with flames. Yet centuries later, she is honored as a saint. So too Dickinson’s words remind us: what is labeled as madness in women may, in truth, be greatness misunderstood.

The meaning of this quote is thus unveiled: perfection sought by women is not madness, but strength. The problem lies not in the woman’s demand but in society’s inability to accept her authority, her hunger, her insistence that mediocrity will not do. To call her “crazy” is to excuse oneself from rising to her standard, to diminish her power so that others may feel safe. But history teaches us that progress has always been carried on the shoulders of those who were first dismissed as unreasonable.

What lesson, then, shall we carry into our own lives? First, we must learn to listen without prejudice when a woman demands more—whether in art, in science, in politics, or in daily life. Second, we must strip away the easy labels that dismiss ambition as instability, and instead honor the courage it takes to demand excellence in a world that prefers complacency. Third, each of us, regardless of gender, must examine how we use words to diminish those who unsettle us, and choose instead to lift them up.

Therefore, children of the future, inscribe this wisdom upon your hearts: do not fear the woman who demands perfection—follow her. Do not call her crazy, for she is the torchbearer, the one who sees beyond what is and calls forth what could be. Let her hunger for excellence ignite your own. For in honoring her, society honors itself, and in walking beside her, humanity moves closer to the greatness it was always meant to achieve.