My relationship with femininity, particularly my own, has
always been complicated. I embrace and embody some characteristics without
reservation, but honestly, sometimes I wish for balls. Albeit wrinkly and
overall disgraceful, they serve to deflect constant interruptions in group
conversations, inherently increase the value of your ideas and work, and
generate unjustified confidence.
Still, I revel in dressing
femininely, wearing skirts and heels, feeling sexy, and the power of my
sexuality. More subtly, I appreciate the closeness of my friendships, my
ability to connect with people, to experience empathy, and to feel
deeply.
In fairness to femaleness, the
intermittent yearning for my very own hairy testicles is not resultant of innate
and authentic characteristics of 'woman', but rather the perpetuated
assumptions and generalizations contending I am not powerful, smart or scrappy
as fuck. I hate the idea of domestication, presumptive role as the primary
parent, and instability of female emotions and behavior as less stable.
The most extraordinary aspects of the female condition have been
diluted and dramatized, normalizing and justifying persistent inequity.
