Childhood
My mother was a earthy, natural, butch-like woman. She dislikes fuzzy things. Everything had to be simple and crisp clear. When I was still a kid, my daily-life rarely consisted of any girly things. I begged for long hair, just like the dolls typical girl played with, forever. I envied my classmates from the all girls' catholic school, with their shiny straight hair braided, twisted, and decorated with blue ribbons that matched the school uniforms. My mother told me she did not want to braid my hair, and short hair made everyone's life easier. My sole way of displaying femininity, well girliness at that time, was stripped for convenience. You see I was never a happy kid.
Teenager
Finally I could manage my own belongings. I clad myself with silky long hair with curls that were perfectly styled, natural monochrome make-up, rimless business looking glasses, professional A-line skirts, and black pointy flats. Would people take me as an attractive yet mature young lady? I didn't want to be the sexy, but good enough for those developing young male adults to pay attention to me. Actually, I wouldn't care. They were so immature anyway, only daydreaming and fantasizing about other girls' lacy bras and thong underwear. Yet, I did not get why no one had ever noticed me. A shy, quite intelligent, artsy girl.
Late-teens and beyond
Over with the males. Questioning and conflicting with the morals, girls are apparently attractive too. Hmm, especially boyish butchy ones. They are much softer and more understanding than bio-boys. Also why not go against the majority's view on female attractiveness, and start binding the bosoms? They are really only functional during sexual play anyway.
* * *
I wonder if my life experiences had an effect on my current interpretation of femininity, leaving an impress on my obscure view.
I hate girly females, those ones dancing in the greens with mary jane pumps, flowy skirts and flying scarfs. I would never pity those who twisted their ankle or leg or whatever with their high heels. I think the women who tried to show off their curves are slutty. Yes, I said slutty. I don't care if you are doing this for yourself, or wanting to be objectified by others. I dislike those soft, weak girls that get freaked out and cry easily because of some small thing. Really? The whole act just looks stupid and so pretending to me. If you cry in front of males, maybe they will try their best to help, comfort, or protect you. Me? Go f*ck off. I don't give a damn.
On the other hand, I'm just as stupid as those girls I mentioned above. I am craving to find femininity that works with my own body and mind, and I know I still have a lot to figure out. I strongly discourage the act of being dependent, which is a popular and conventional method of showcasing feminine quality. But am I crossing the line where I'm really just complaining my discomfort because I'm lost? I felt like I have to resculpt the idea of being feminine while not totally trashing my past believes and experiences.
So, what is femininity?
My mother was a earthy, natural, butch-like woman. She dislikes fuzzy things. Everything had to be simple and crisp clear. When I was still a kid, my daily-life rarely consisted of any girly things. I begged for long hair, just like the dolls typical girl played with, forever. I envied my classmates from the all girls' catholic school, with their shiny straight hair braided, twisted, and decorated with blue ribbons that matched the school uniforms. My mother told me she did not want to braid my hair, and short hair made everyone's life easier. My sole way of displaying femininity, well girliness at that time, was stripped for convenience. You see I was never a happy kid.
Teenager
Finally I could manage my own belongings. I clad myself with silky long hair with curls that were perfectly styled, natural monochrome make-up, rimless business looking glasses, professional A-line skirts, and black pointy flats. Would people take me as an attractive yet mature young lady? I didn't want to be the sexy, but good enough for those developing young male adults to pay attention to me. Actually, I wouldn't care. They were so immature anyway, only daydreaming and fantasizing about other girls' lacy bras and thong underwear. Yet, I did not get why no one had ever noticed me. A shy, quite intelligent, artsy girl.
Late-teens and beyond
Over with the males. Questioning and conflicting with the morals, girls are apparently attractive too. Hmm, especially boyish butchy ones. They are much softer and more understanding than bio-boys. Also why not go against the majority's view on female attractiveness, and start binding the bosoms? They are really only functional during sexual play anyway.
* * *
I wonder if my life experiences had an effect on my current interpretation of femininity, leaving an impress on my obscure view.
I hate girly females, those ones dancing in the greens with mary jane pumps, flowy skirts and flying scarfs. I would never pity those who twisted their ankle or leg or whatever with their high heels. I think the women who tried to show off their curves are slutty. Yes, I said slutty. I don't care if you are doing this for yourself, or wanting to be objectified by others. I dislike those soft, weak girls that get freaked out and cry easily because of some small thing. Really? The whole act just looks stupid and so pretending to me. If you cry in front of males, maybe they will try their best to help, comfort, or protect you. Me? Go f*ck off. I don't give a damn.
On the other hand, I'm just as stupid as those girls I mentioned above. I am craving to find femininity that works with my own body and mind, and I know I still have a lot to figure out. I strongly discourage the act of being dependent, which is a popular and conventional method of showcasing feminine quality. But am I crossing the line where I'm really just complaining my discomfort because I'm lost? I felt like I have to resculpt the idea of being feminine while not totally trashing my past believes and experiences.
So, what is femininity?
No comments:
Post a Comment