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2003-08-13 - 1:37 a.m. Femininity This should be as easy topic. I’m considered a “femme” from most perspectives. I do and am things that my ex-girlfriend-still-best-friend-sometimes-lover, Jenny has gone to great lengths to avoid. She’s considered “butch,” by societal standards. She wears black cutoff sweat shorts with 18 colors of paint on them and old plaid flannel shirts with holes in the elbows (ok, that’s the home attire – business is khaki chinos and button-down collared shirts or polo shirts and sneakers). I wear pink and skirts and heels with toe exposures and mascara and fabrics that itch and 3/4 length sleeves. She plays with Lego(TM) bricks and has a skill for three-dimensional space packing. I get my nails done – hands and feet and have a flair for color coordination. She has a toolbox (actually, she owns three of them, with what I understand are near top-of-the-line tools); I have a tool basket with a screwdriver set because I wanted to change the switch plates (because the old ones were icky). From the outside, the differences are clear. But are these things the true determinants? Is she less feminine than I? I’ll tell you true - she’s as feminine as I am, sometimes more so. Surface things hardly ever are true determinants. You should know that by now. The way I conceive it, the essence of femininity is intangible. And has little to do with being demure or poised or graceful or anything else that this society expects and rewards in a woman’s behavior. No. It’s not the little things either. The essence of femininity is who a woman is and what she’s made of. And what a woman is made of is not “sugar and spice and everything nice.” First of all, sugar dissolves in liquids like rain or tears. Women withstand rain, tears and more. Spices go stale over time. Women stay strong and often get stronger with age. And “everything nice” is always relative to who’s sitting in judgment and that changes constantly. Women are made of stronger material than society would have you think. Femininity has nothing to do with weakness or malleability. If you look carefully, the essence of femininity can be seen and revealed and experienced through the little things. It’s in the way that a woman loves and in the way she makes love: body, mind, heart, and soul. It is revealed in who she admires, counts on, or trusts. It’s also in who admires, counts on, or trusts her. It’s in the million little “I love you”s she does everyday – a note tucked into a pocket, a sandwich made with care (and cut into triangles or squares or whatever the person it’s intended for likes so much), an extra dryer sheet in the load of laundry, the empty toilet paper roll replaced (with the end over not under), the ice cube trays refilled. It’s in the empathy a woman feels with (not for) anyone in pain. A woman shares pain; absorbs pain, in hopes of lessening it for someone else. It’s in her gentle touch and her silent understanding. It’s in the “sshhhhh” when she pulls you in close for a hug, letting you know that words aren’t necessary. It is revealed in times of trouble in the inner strength, resiliency and determination that a woman has. When times get tough, it’s in the way that she very quietly gets tougher. She may speak less and think more. And once she’s thought enough, she may speak out loud – with her voice or her actions or both. It’s in the way she protects her own, while trying not to hurt anyone else’s. So is my dear Jenny feminine? Very (by my definition anyway). Does she like to be thought of that way? And I quote, “When Hell freezes over and you can skate on it.” But if society conceived of the word the way that I do? Maybe. Did I mention she’s stubborn? Arms crossed in front of her (Heaven forbid I mention that she has a chest – that would be too girly). She likes my definition … I can tell. Given enough time for it to sink in, she might start to understand herself that way too. I love you exactly the way that you are, woman - don't ever forget it.
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