I finished this page in my art journal this morning. It is something that has been brewing for a week or so, so I wanted to explain a bit about it.
When I was a young girl, I was a tomboy. (Having two brothers and no sisters will do that to a girl.) One of my earliest memories is of throwing a tantrum because my mother was buying my brother a pair of jeans that was autographed by Buffalo Bob and I wasn’t getting a pair. Little girls didn’t throw tantrums, nor did they want Wranglers back in those days. (At least in my family they didn’t) As I grew up, the idea that liking “girly” things was a sign of weakness, became imprinted in my memory bank. I hated wearing dresses even though that was the dress code for school in those days. I hated everything about being a girl. I didn’t really realize at that point in time, that being a girl meant that I would someday give up the family name and take another. My brothers both would carry on that family name and somehow, that became a big deal later on.
As I grew older, I learned to appreciate some things about being a girl. There was a certain “power” that came with the territory. I still loved wearing my jeans and keeping my hair short, but I would occasionally wear a halter top something equally….mmm….”feminine.” Mentally, though, I still kept feeling like things were not fair. That I would have to fight for anything I achieved in this world. It seemed to me, that men had the upper hand in a lot of ways, and that just WAS NOT FAIR.
It hasn’t been until recently, that I realized “fairness” is an illusion. Something that our parents teach us to get us to play well together, but life really isn’t fair. What is FAIR though…is that we are all born with the same divine spark in us that we can allow to grow and flame into something bigger, or we can let the “unfairness” of life dampen that spark and we become bitter and soured with life. So, setting aside that illusion, I have decided to just revel in MYSELF. There is a part of me that has a deep appreciation of PINK….and delicate lace…..and fine china, and it is NOT a sign of weakness to acknowledge those things.
I still prefer jeans, and once again I am wearing my hair short. The difference being in my soul. I don’t hate the woman in me. I love her. She is strong, capable, loving, creative, and a good person. She doesn’t need anyone’s approval except her own.
That’s the woman I love.
(Side note: When my daughter was a baby and a young girl, I dressed her in pink and lavender all the time. I suspect that I was living out the feminine part of me through her. As a result, she HATES pink and lavender and feminine things. And daughter, if you read this, I am so sorry. I hope someday that you will love that part of you again.)