Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Gender rules

In soooo many ways, I'm not a girly-girl. Never have been, never will be. I'm hopelessly maternal, and love dresses and jewelry and pink, for sure, but am also into rather traditionally masculine pursuits like science fiction television and action movies. I play video games and would rather cook (in heels, mind you) than bake. I could live without makeup. I'll take an extra dirty martini over a Cosmo any day. I sing high soprano but would choose to listen to System of a Down over Maria Callas. I could go on but I won't, because you get it. I don't really follow the rules when it comes to gender roles.

My childhood was rife with contradictions. As a toddler I refused to wear anything other than skirts, but also desperately wanted (and was ultimately given) my father's Swiss army knife. I didn't carry a purse until I was out of high school. Everyone was probably confused. My third grade teacher famously told my mother, "She's a good kid, she just takes a little getting used to." In retrospect, that teacher was a bitch, but her statement resonates through the years. She was right; I was and am...weird. On the gender spectrum I'm probably smack dab in the middle, perhaps just ever so slightly on the feminine side.

This makes dating difficult, as if dating needs to be more difficult than it already is. I tend to go for guys who have a similar mix of masculine and feminine, but they are few and far between. More common is the popped-collar bro who's looking for blonde and boobs. The boobs I've got. The blonde-ness (and all it entails) eludes me. I just can't BE a girly-girl. Obviously there's nothing inherently wrong with that, but there will always be people like my third grade teacher who call it like they see it and label me as weird. After almost 30 years on this earth, I think I might be okay with weird.

No comments:

Post a Comment