So "she" called to tell me she loves me.
She did not call to tell me she is sorry for not being a part of our household.
She did not call to tell me she is sorry for not showing any sexual interest in me while we were together.
She did not call to tell me she is sorry for expecting all and giving nothing in return.
She did not call to admit that she used me.
She called to tell me she loves me, because saying you love someone is apparently good enough.
The call did not go well.
So my best friend is getting married this Saturday. I’m super excited about the wedding. I am not super excited about wearing a dress.
See, I am required to wear a dress by all of my friends because they know if they leave it to me I’ll pop up in jeans. Because of this, they all made the decision that me wearing a dress this time was mandatory.
I act like I have a great self image. I’m lying to everyone.
I am ashamed of my body. I have been for as long as I can remember. I’m at my heaviest at the moment but even at my skinniest I had low self esteem. I constantly compare myself to other women and I can always find reasons they are more beautiful than I am. I see my flaws, all of them. I see my acne scars. I see my stomach rolls. I see my arm fat. I see my stretch marks. I see my cellulite. I feel like I’m shaped like a block of velveeta cheese. So wearing a dress this Saturday is going to be weird. I’m going to feel like everyone is looking at me and judging me.
I just wish I had the body confidence that other people have. I want to look in the mirror and like what I see, regardless of size. I want to feel beautiful in whatever I decide to wear. I just want to be happy with who I am and how I look.
I need to learn to worry about my own comfort. Regardless of who I date, or who I am around, I tend to change myself to make my partner or friends comfortable. I need to stop doing that.
I am bisexual. I hid that for years because I didn’t want to make anyone else feel awkward. I am not really religious though I do believe in God. I also love collecting crystals and burning sage around my house. I hid that from anyone I dated because I didn’t want people to feel weird about it because they didn’t understand it. I have wanted my hair super short for years but didn’t cut it because my ex preferred me with hair or a weave. I wanted a nose ring but didn’t do it because my (ex) girlfriend didn’t like them. I have collected posters from going to Magfest three years in a row but didn’t put them up because I didn’t know how my partner would feel about anime/comic/gaming posters on the wall. I held off on the Sailor Moon tattoo I wanted because I didn’t know how to explain to other people why I would want permanent ink from an anime.
I spent a lot of time doing what I thought would make other people comfortable. I did not take the time to notice that no one really went out of their way to make me feel comfortable with all the odd things I liked. So I stopped giving a damn about other people’s comfort. My crystals and incense are out and on display in my living room. My posters are on my wall. My hair is as short as I want. My nose is now pierced. My sailor moon thigh sleeve has been started.
It’s my turn now. I don’t have to change for you, you have to accept me for who I am. Simple as that.
I am a woman. I am proud of this. I do not consider myself the “weaker gender”. I am strength and courage. I pride myself in that.
However, I no longer base my womanhood on how feminine I am. This is a change for me. It wasn’t a conscious change, one day I just realized feminine does not equal womanly and vice versa.
As a kid I was a “tomboy”. Covered in dirt, scratches, and bruises with the boys, that was me. As I hit adulthood I was told this or that wasn’t “lady like”. I needed to be softer, gentler. So I stopped embracing my “rough” side if that’s what you want to call it. I kept my hair long and relaxed because guys “prefer” long hair on girls. I started wearing makeup because that’s what grown women do. I tried to dress more feminine and “cute”. I tried to soften up. I tried to learn to bite my tongue. I became a “woman”. I place the word in quotes because I became what people said a woman should be. I was always a bit uncomfortable with the “woman” I had become. It wasn’t me but I kept at it.
And then I did something I thought was insignificant. I cut my hair. Not a little trim this time. I walked into a barber shop and cut it all off. I loved it. It was freeing. That’s when I started to notice a change in me. My womanhood was no longer based on how I looked. Strange right? A haircut shouldn’t really have that much power, but it did. See, the way I got my hair cut made me look a bit “dude-ish”. Without makeup and in my comfy clothes I started getting mistaken for a guy. I got called sir a few times actually. It didn’t bother me. In fact, I would answer with no correction of pronouns. Why? Because I realized I was a woman no matter how I looked and no matter what someone called me. I am a woman. Period. I am a woman because I say I am a woman. Makeup or no makeup. Long hair or short hair. High heels or sneakers. Skinny jeans or baggy clothes. I am still a woman. On the days I am feeling super feminine, I will rock a face full of makeup and strut in my heels with the best of them. On other days, I’m in a beenie and a Nintendo tee shirt hanging with my boys and fitting in flawlessly. I can be soft and gentle and rough around the edges. I’m still a woman. I am more comfortable with the woman I am now than I’ve ever been. Short hair, bare face, loud mouth and all.