March 12, 2010

"You Throw Like a Girl!"

Growing up with a lot of boys I remember being teased. A lot. Teased is really an understatement – tormented might be a more appropriate word. That being said, I remember being challenged to do things that a lot of them thought I couldn’t do because I was a “girl.” That challenge to overcome some ill-conceived notion of inability (in this case due to gender) still lingers in my life. My partner can testify to the fact that if you tell me I can’t do something that’s often the quickest way to ensure that I’ll do it.

Despite some women feeling to the contrary, and a slew of media makers and social outlets making us FEEL to the contrary, there are a thousand reasons why we should be proud to be girls! An obvious and simple reason to be proud: we can make babies! We are the luckiest generation of women in this area. We have forms of reproductive freedom that our grandmothers only dreamed about! We can CHOOSE to have babies! It is a present and conscious decision (Melanie’s story being most poignant in that regard!) and it is not an assumed destiny. We owe this reality to women like Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, and the Boston Women’s Collective. But, still it really comes down to the fact that…..WE CAN MAKE BABIES!

If you asked me to provide one single, all-encompassing jewel of a word for why I’m proud to be a woman, a woman who used to be a girl (and, may still be in some ways), the answer is quick to fly past my tongue and between my lips, with a smile to send it sweetly to the all tender ears of the universe.  No thought necessary. Emotion.

And, am I EVER the poster-femme for that little nugget of soul-swelling.  I’m a weeper who relishes a decent tear shedding…..it just feels so damn GOOD…..regardless of what’s conjured the waterworks.  Do this and celebrate!   Such a purge!  To laugh is to expel tension and negativity into thin air and to release the most magical jingling tones of happiness and bliss directly into other beings cores.  Huzzah!  Another cause for celebration!  I’ll kneel before compassion, be humbled into oblivion, devour every ounce of feisty and pissed off that I can get my hands on, transform jealousy into admiration, breed love, satiate lust, admit to frustration and confusion, and greet the unknowns with a sly smile and an arched eyebrow of preparedness.  Above all, I can just ‘be’.  This gal does not have to define every molecule of her existence.  Sometimes those emotions deserve to just…..sit…..stew a little…..or a lot…..go unnamed…….feel out their surroundings….see if they want to stay a spell or keep it a hasty tryst. I’ve long thought that women had the emotional advantage, the innate, natural knowing of what I’ve fondly come to address as my personal “four agreements”.  No Ruiz here, darlin’, though it does follow along the lines of personal discovery and commitment to thine own self.

Head, Heart, Soul, Gut.

Identifying each as its own entity and realizing when you can find harmony with one solo, a pairing, or all components; this unleashes a wild and extraordinary explosion of good juju.  Yes, juju.  My very essence and spirit are warmed into a tizzy and direction and realization is easily tucked into a pocket. Enter, the big girl pantaloons.  It takes a great deal of self discovery to, well, know oneself.  As a woman, the path is what you make it.  Persevere or perish.  Take your experiences, own them, feel them, make them your own…..because they are.  WE ARE AWARE.  We are intrepid.  We fight.  We are solution seekers!  Feelers on a level that makes a mother honored to bear children, a big sister encouraged to be a leading lady for her siblings, a wife who does not lose her identity to a new last name.  It has to be acknowledged that as the aforementioned emotional exhibitionist that I am – I am allowed that freedom of expression simply because I am a woman. Though these displays are often devalued in a patriarchal society where all things “feminine” are frowned upon and often women assume that to be respected we have to behave in the stoic or laconic manner of the caracutre of masculinity. Were I a man my freedom to be emotionally open would be exponetially hampered…..well, unless you are experiencing a moment of violence or anger.

In the film Stage Beauty, Maria spat out at Edward Kynaston (in reality one of the last Restoration Era male actors who played women’s roles) a quote that encapsulates my personal belief behind the truth and strength of women:

“Your old tutor did you a great disservice, Mr. Kynaston. He taught you how to speak, and swoon, and toss your head but he never taught you how to suffer like a woman, or love like a woman. He trapped a man in a woman’s form and left you there to die! I always hated you as Desdemona. You never fought! You just died, beautifully. No woman would die like that, no matter how much she loved him. A woman would fight!”

So, yeah, we throw like girls. And, we fight like girls….and we hit like girls…and we run like girls….and we feel like girls…and we cry like girls…and we hurt like girls….and we kiss like girls…and we fuck like girls…and we piss like girls….and we eat like girls….because we are “girls”…..proud, fierce, strong, intelligent GRRRLS.

Thanks to Gemma for contributing her words and wisdom to this blog 🙂

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