There are times in my life where I feel very shameful for being a female. I am embarrassed by women who think it's acceptable to air their personal issues so publicly - physical and emotional. Or, the girls who dumb themselves down to try and win over boy's hearts. Menopausal women who announce when they are having a hot flash also make me turn crimson and silently curse the universe for not making me male.
On the flip side, there are also times when I am so elated and proud to be a woman. I witnessed live child birth a little over a month ago and to be honest, as educational as that experience was, it was also absolutely beautiful and incredible. What a trip. As females, our bodies are these amazingly precious temples with powers unlike anything else; it's as if we are in a secret club banded together because men will never understand.
I have a lifetime membership, just for being born with the correct anatomy. Winning.
Of course, as a believer in equality, the human race is a fascinating species on its own. Men and women alike have differing qualities that are admirable, but also cringe-worthy. I like to acknowledge and appreciate both.
However, lately I have been noticing age. I think because I am working with the kids again at the ski club, so I am becoming suddenly ultra-aware of it. A previous post of mine (click here) was a long observation about my sudden realization of adulthood. I feel as though that was the first of many, because it's been happening to me again lately.
Earlier in the month I attended this gathering for the ski club; a cocktail party where the coaches meet the parents of the athletes. This event made me nervous last year, and it made me nervous again this year. I clam up, afraid to look like a moron and say something stupid because truthfully I am knowledgable about skiing, but nerves sometimes block the roadway from my thoughts to my vocal cords. I remember walking in, hating myself for wearing bright orange socks that everyone could see because I had to take my shoes off in the mudroom. I was a tense ball of stress, looking up at parent's faces because I'm only about five feet tall. I socialized and chewed on carrot sticks, sipping seltzer water, trying to relax.
But, the only time I felt truly comfortable and normal was when I saw some athlete's from my group sitting in the living room playing Nintendo Wii, and sticking their tongues out at me. I could breathe again, and smile because I found my people.
My friends.
I felt one orange socked foot move forward a step, but I was stopped by my conscience reminding me that I didn't belong in that world anymore. Childhood was long gone, and I belonged at the cocktail party.
Drinking seltzer water.
This memory makes me laugh because at times I feel like Miley Cyrus screaming out so loud to be taken seriously as an adult. Obviously, I am not Miley and she goes many extra miles to make her calls heard. Yet, there I was, wishing to be with the nine-year-olds because I am more comfortable spending time with them than I am with my "own" kind.
As bittersweet of a reminder that was, I prefer those kind over the normalcy of what I usually experience. I am in a town where I have always been, known as a girl and not a woman. A child, not an adult. The athlete, not the coach. And sometimes people's harsh reminders truly hurt my feelings. I think my purposeful hard-exterior gives people the impression that I am made of stone, but underneath all that, I have a gooey center with emotions.
In the midst of all my wondering and philosophizing though, it's occurred to me that although I may be a young woman, in between youth and true full-blown adulthood, I am a human being. We are all human beings, whether we are young, old, male, female, black, white - what have you. As people, we have this natural urge to put everything into compartments and organize, so there is no chaos. But, why do we need to put ourselves into those compartments too? Why must we staple on these regulations and expectations?
My experiences with adults for the most part make me question the world and our reasons for being here. How dare we put labels onto other people based on their age, or sex? Why give in to the stigmas that are slapped on our foreheads for being who we are and the parts of us that we can't control?
Truthfully, adults are much more harsh and cruel than children, and I refuse to treat people the way I am sometimes treated. When I am fifty, I will never look down my nose at someone who is an honestly good person, just because they are twenty-years-old. Never will I go out of my way to make them feel subordinate for the hell of it, because I can.
People tell me to deal with it; all of it. I am going to meet men who treat me as lesser because I am woman, and I just have to deal with it. No one is going to take me seriously until around the time I turn thirty, and I just have to deal with it. People are going to judge who I love, and I just have to deal with it.
Well, you know what, I'm not dealing with it. It's not fair. I owe it to myself to not put up with that bullshit. Even if I am the only one trying to make a difference, I am going to be remembered by many people who have preceded me because I refuse to let the expectations and stereotypes of life fog my judgement.
Age is just a mother fucking number, and if we adults were as smart as we claim to be, we would have realized that a long time ago.
