Looking at my body, I know I am female. I am a woman. But when I look in the mirror, I see more than just the curves of my hips or my breasts laying limp. I also see the muscular build to my shoulders, marking that I carry a strength more than some women. When I look in the mirror, I am reminded of the moments I have gotten dolled up. Wearing a dress, and recently make-up for a wedding, I know that I can look hot. But when I look in the mirror, I am also reminded of the many hours I dress in preparation to get filthy on a construction site. Or my skin glistens with sweat after exerting my body for sport. I am not dainty. Never have been. I have a feeling; I never will be. Even when I become glamorous, I make sure I wear a pair of shorts, because…well, you never know when you gotta get ready for some action. Looking in the mirror, I am not your typical woman. So, do I lack femininity? Born a female, I never wanted to be a boy. I just liked things - and still do - that typically boys/men like. And when I hung out with my male cousins as a kid, it was because they were involved in things, I liked compared to what the girls wanted to do. I never thought this was weird. Frankly, my parents didn’t either. I mean, my dad has said that he raised me like a son. But that wasn’t because he was wishing I was a boy. He understood that, as a kid, I liked to do things boys typically did, and he was okay with that. I didn’t have to play with dolls; I could like sports. I didn’t have to learn to cook; I could work with tools if I wanted to. And that was okay. Until middle school. Then another mother figure came into my life. And this woman - though, she may have had the best intentions - identified my behavior as something uncomely for girls. First, she stuck to the opinion that I hung out with the boys, because I had a crush on one of my cousins. But throughout my maturation, comments of how I should wear dresses more often, or that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach have lingered in the air. I have forgiven her for many of her other past transgressions. However, now, this is what I hold onto. Because, frankly, it isn’t the past. It is the present. Though I have become a woman, and though on the contrary to my adolescent self, wearing dresses, it still isn’t enough. “You look so good in a dress. You should wear dresses more often.” Dresses aren’t considered a big deal. Even in most Christian circles, if someone dresses up, it is noticed, the person is complimented, and people move on. But, in the case of women who grew up tomboys, wearing a dress is almost like seeing a wild animal in its natural element. No…it’s not like that at all. From the perspective of the viewer, that may be the case. But for the “animal”, a woman can wonder what the big deal is. After all, as a woman, if I want to wear a dress when I want to, why does the paparazzi suddenly have to be notified? But that isn’t the question, is it? The question, rather, is, “Why don’t I wear dresses more often?” And why should I? Honestly, in the whole of what goes on in my life, when is a dress appropriate to wear? At work, it is inconducive. I need to be on the floor with students, able to move quickly in case of an emergency. In sports, a dress would make me reveal things unneeded to become public. Any physical labor would ruin such a beautiful outfit. Oh wait. Maybe I should wear dresses every Sunday. That’s what my other mother figure does. Ironically, my own mother never questioned my femininity. Nevertheless, this other woman did. Maybe she was afraid I would fall into some grave sin by doing things that boys do. Maybe what she was really trying to do was to teach me life skills that she knew. But the emphasis on my appearance was more than overbearing. It was a burdensome weight. Because it wasn’t just the outfits, but the behavior that needed to be accompanied. Never married, but maybe I will not make a typical bride. And sometimes I wonder if that is okay. Am I okay as a woman if I am not a woman like others? When I wear a dress, there is no need to tell me I should wear them more often. I have been a woman since I was 18 years old, and I have been feminine since I was born. I wish I could stop being put in a box of what I should be, as a girl. I know I don’t live up to standards of what a woman “should” be. As I have grown, it seemed like there was always something to fix. The comments make my worth determined based on what I wear. I wish, as a woman, my femininity wasn’t constantly evaluated by my interests, activities, and dress. Why when I didn’t fit the stereotype I was joked at, mocked, or criticized? As a result of these comments and “compliments”, I have questioned whether I had any hint of femininity. Because I didn’t fit into some boxes. Ironically, not many people question my womanhood. But the one voice that speaks to my gender, and negatively so, is the voice that is constantly inside my head. I wasn’t created to be like my other cousins. I was created to be me: Laura Emily Hall. I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful, as a statement. No, there usually has to be a tagline. I’m beautiful, and will continue to be, if I just ________________. I’m tired of the bullshit. The comment has the opposite effect. To tell me I should wear dresses more often, when I have already been, actually makes me want to never put a dress on ever. Or at least, around this person. Sigh...But I don’t know when…when this person is going to see it. My confidence in my sexuality has been depleted, because I didn’t think I am woman enough for a man. I have believed that I better wear something different or act different or display a different hobby than what I’m actually interested in, if I want to attract a man. So much for personality. So much for character. So much for just being myself. So much for my smile. After all, that is the feature about me that I like the most. And my freckles. But if I wore make-up, those lovely spots on my face would be covered. Am I good enough? Because when I look in the mirror, I don’t see masculine. I do see feminine. Because I am a woman. I know with the discussion on transgenderism*, there is a lot of commentary on what masculinity vs. femininity is, and frankly, I don’t have it all figured out. However, I am seeing way more evidence that the Western world, and unfortunately, the Church as well, determines gender based on stereotypes and roles, rather than the matter that someone is born male or female. I know that clothing is an extension of gender, but anytime I’ve worn men’s clothes, it was because it was more functional (i.e., comfortable, affordable, and available) than the idea of me trying to become less of a woman. Yes, I grew up a tomboy. A girl who did typical boy things. But that didn’t equate to me wanting to be a boy. (And sidenote, when people say a girl who wanted to be a boy, thereby dressing and naming themselves as a boy, then becoming a girl again is not coming out of a tomboy phase. She was coming out of a boy phase. Tomboys are girls who like stereotypical boy things. Doesn’t mean they actually want to be a boy.) I was always a girl and wanted to be a girl. I just was a girl who didn’t want to be dainty. Because the adventures I wanted to have required shorts and T-shirts, not aprons. I know I need to let this go. I need to forgive the person who is at fault for me questioning my worth as a woman. However, like many other forgiveness issues I’ve had, I struggle with letting it go without the promise of any change. If I sit long enough in the hurt, tears come. Waiting longer, anger brews. Because I wonder, why am I never enough? Will I ever be enough? I don’t mean to balk at wisdom. I don’t mean to claim that I can just be myself and never require change for anything in my personality. As Christians, we are daily living out a transformation from a personality of sin to a personality of holiness. Nevertheless, God created us uniquely. So, why wouldn’t we consider that? I am still searching what it means (if we need it black and white) to be feminine vs. masculine. But often I find that I’m told to be prepared for every work that God puts before me. I am learning how to listen to what God says about me instead of what tradition dictates. Even if it is church tradition. Because, anytime the church defines a doctrine that is based more in society than in the Bible, then we as Christians need to give room to question it. I don’t know how to respond to this other mother. Every time she makes a comment about how I should wear dresses, I smile and say meekly, “But I do wear dresses.” However, inwardly, I really want to rail her in. Give her a piece of my mind. But, in the quiet sorrows of my mind, I hear the Holy Spirit say, “Giving a taste of her own medicine is not godly.” Furthermore, I’m supposed to extend mercy, even though she doesn’t deserve it. But what would mercy be if it was deserved? Nevertheless, I am to the point that her biases need to be confronted. “Do not answer a fool according to his folly, lest you also be like him. Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes (Proverbs 26:4-5).” Maybe the best response is no response, at all. Not just a lack of response. A lack of acknowledgement. Maybe in the silence, she will hear the ignorance of her opinion. That being said, I know that the moment revealing the truth of her words causing emotional scars will need to be done so with grace. May I be ready for it, sooner than later. *To learn more about the transgender concern from a Christian perspective, read (Sprinkle, Embodied: Transgender identities, The Church & What the Bible has to say 2021)
No comments:
Post a Comment