"As much as I spend my life trying to be everything but a girly girl, packing all my girly stuff out on my new dressing table and loving it, made me think.... I might just be a girly girl after all"
At first I was thrilled. Finally! My hours spent punting my beauty blog and the benefits are sparkly happy bouncing rainbowness were paying off and friends were realising that it's actually ok to be...*whisper*...girly.
But the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got. I *am* a girly-girl. I love make-up and fashion, spending hours pouring over images on Pinterest, love to shop, adore chocolate and kittens. I wear high heels with pride (even if I can't walk in them) and will happily spend an entire day at the spa.
Last night? Last night I climbed a wall and made a rather brave, and stupid, attempt to get onto the roof to stop a cat fight. No, I don't mean a nails-out-hair-pulling girl-on-girl barney...I mean an actual cat fight between my kitty and the neighbourhood bully. You see, along with my penchant for "girly" goodness, I am and have for many years been a tom boy.
I first noticed when I was a kid. I loved playing house, although usually my "house" was in a tree in our front garden. I would come home with countless scrapes and bruises after many hours transporting everything from blankets to dolls into my "house". I played with Barbies. However, my Disney's Princess Aurora (aka Sleeping Beauty) and Ken were more often than not renamed Jean Grey and Scott Summers (of X-men fame).
I've been single for a greater percentage of my life than not. I can change my own tyres, re-wire a plug and dig a metre-by-metre-by-metre hole to plant a lemon tree. I'm not physically my strongest but when there isn't a handy boyfriend around (my dad lives in The Netherlands and I only recently adopted a brother, also in The Netherlands), I'm more than capable of doing it myself.
I am and have been in charge of my own decisions for many years too. I bought my car by myself. I bought my house by myself. I manage my own finances, make decisions about my insurance and nurse myself when I'm sick.
I'm fiercely independent and have become so used to fixing my own problems that sexism and gender stereotypes smack me upside the head when I least expect it, because in my life, I don't designate specific roles to specific genders. I play them all.
I'm just as comfortable climbing a gate as I am strutting about in heels. I can make a fire with perfectly manicured nails I did the night before. I'm as handy with a screwdriver as I am with a ghd hair straightener. I drink beer or a brightly coloured cocktail depending on my mood and I love watching ice hockey as much as I enjoy an episode of Grey's Anatomy.
I'm not just a girly-girl. I'm a person. I have interests based on things that...wait for it...INTEREST ME, not because it's what my gender does or I'm socialised to believe are meant for me. I think in the spirit of this month (August is Women's Month in SA), I'm going to fully embrace all the aspects that define me not only as a woman, but also as a human. I think I'm a pretty well-rounded individual.
The true test, I reckon, will be when it gets a bit warmer and the guy I'm currently dating manages to drag me camping - as he keeps threatening. I wonder who's going to be more present: the tom boy me who makes fires and gets her hands dirty, or the girly-girl who wants to know exactly where I'm supposed to plug in my hair straightener.
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