gender confusion

I grew up thinking being a girl was bad.

Being a girl meant being a fun sucker. Girls are wimps. Girls make boys have to watch where their hands go during pick-up football games. Girls cry. When girls have their say in what channel to watch on TV, there are usually fits thrown as Lifetime pours its drama into my wide eyes and popcorn-filled mouth. Girls mean hormones and bathroom hogs. Girls mean having to buy TAMPONS at the store. Girls mean family vacations to Desmet, South Dakota to see the Laura Ingalls Wilder exhibit.

Elementary Whitney believed girls are annoying, and I spent my whole life trying NOT to be that dumb girl.

So I let my Barbies be innocent victims of the Ninja Turtles' nemeses. I would play football and let them tackle me. I ran around with my shirt off and laughed at farts and bought Husker shirts. I was the official announcer for my brother's wrestling matches and I never let a sarcastic remark offend me.

And even now. I will sit at a table with all boys a thousand times before I'd sit down with some girls that ask me how I'm doing today, or how that made me feel, or how someone offended them. I CANNOT HANDLE THAT.

But, sometimes as a little girl, I would still sneak up into my flowery room and play Barbies under my canopy where no one would die. I would try on pink dresses and learn how to braid my hair on my own. I sang to myself and pretended I was a princess, but I never let my brothers see.

And even now, I hate being a girl sometimes. Like when I'm all emotional and don't know why. Or when I cry for no reason so I blame hormones. It happened last night and I was just sitting there like WHY AM I A GIRL. I want to blog while not an emotional high or low! I want to not be some flimsy female that is tossed and turned by her wavering emotions!

Tonight, I went to a birthday party.

An all-girls birthday party.

And the thought of talking about our feelings was making my stomach feel funny. No more girls please God. But I love those girls and I especially love the birthday girl, so I threw on a flowery skirt to get myself in the mood and I wrote her a long, emotional birthday letter.

And tonight, we laughed in high pitches.

cupcakes: the epitome of girly

We talked about our nanny kids.

probably talking about feelings

We shrieked at exciting and shocking things.

We told creeper stories.

We recounted disgusting dreams.

And relived nightmarish realities.

And..of course...we talked about periods. Men, it always comes up with women. Always.

We admired the engaged girls' rings.

cupcake: demolished

And dreamed with the girls in relationships.

currently having an emotional, girly love gush for these women!

And were cynical with the single ones.

reenacting our hug for the birthday girl's mom

We hugged a lot.

And were very, very girly.

in the kitchen...where we belong.
OUCH.

And, now that I'm thinking about it, maybe being a girl isn't all that bad. We can scream when we see a bug without our essential femininity being challenged! We can do one simple "man thing" like catch a football and everyone congratulates us as if we have accomplished a great feat! My brother gives me a high-five when I know what team an athlete plays for! We can get out of parking tickets by crying! And we get to have long hair and laugh a lot. We get to cry whenever we want. We can WEAR LIPSTICK!

And feeling things deeply can be hard.

They can be girly.

As are high-pitched laughs and pink cupcakes.

But there is something fun about it all.

Something about our side of this world that enthralls me and makes me want to put on a pink dress (and I hardly ever wear pink) and spin around.

And maybe, just maybe, talk about my feelings.

But afterwards, we're watching a football game, and that's that.