All Girl

I was having a conversation with Melanie as we drove back to St. Peters after taking Kellie to meet her Dad. We were talking about how we aren't girly girls, but we can be girly. I wrote this essay last semester for Dr. Legg's class (I love Dr. Legg, and you will too Eric) and it pretty much sums up how I feel about myself and my femininity (or sometime apparant lack thereof). Dr. Legg has all the freshmen in his classes pretend to be a member of the opposite sex for a day and then write a paper about what they learned. He says it amuses him greatly. So this is my paper.

All Girl
I awake to the sound of my alarm going off. Wearily I open my bleary eyes and focus them on the numbers before me: 8:00. I hit the snooze button and close my eyes again. Today I am going to sleep in. When I get up thirty minutes later, I hop in the shower and attempt to cleanse myself as quickly as possible. “This isn’t working.” I think despairingly. “My hair is too long to take a five minute shower.” My day as a boy has begun.
I put on jeans, a t-shirt and my tennis shoes, quickly comb my hair, grab my backpack, and head off too botany class. When I see my friends, I don’t smile and wave as I normally do, I simply nod instead. But my girlish giggling spoils the effect. And so the day goes on, me attempting to do the things I know a boy would do and failing for the pure unchangeable fact that I am, in point of fact, a girl.
There were a few successes. I was able to convincingly pull off a classic guy greeting where the right hands of two parties are smacked together and then quickly pulled apart with the fingers curled. I fearlessly killed a wasp for one of my friends armed with nothing but a can of Lysol. And as time went by I found myself thinking more and more like a guy. I had the strange urge to do push-ups and eat massive amounts of food. My scientific mind began to wonder if my mental mindset was causing my body to produce more testosterone than normal. I felt like myself, but I also felt vaguely different. When I hurt my finger it didn’t seem to hurt as much as it ought to, and I ignored it. Somehow the trace amount of blood encrusted on my nail filled me with an odd sort of pride.
Despite the possible testosterone-induced anomalies, I am not in any doubt about my femininity. It seems that in this day and age stereotypes are what define masculinity and femininity. If you enjoy shopping, looking nice, talking about your feelings then you are feminine. If you enjoy getting dirty, building things and acting tough, then you are masculine. Girls should be concerned with their beauty and boys should be concerned with their brawn. But this isn’t right. This is not true masculinity and femininity. It is no wonder our society is full of people confused about what sex they are. There are men who enjoy “feminine” things and become convinced that they are women trapped in men’s bodies. They don’t know how else to resolve this seeming conflict.
But killing bugs and doing push-ups doesn’t make me masculine, just like giggling and playing with my hair does not make me feminine. It goes so much deeper than that. Being feminine has more to do with the way I think and perceive things than my actions. Yes, it is true that some actions are feminine in nature, but they are a result of the inner femininity. God created woman to be a helper for man. We are detail-oriented and pick up on things men miss. We are created to be companions and are therefore very attuned to the feelings and emotional state of others. We are mothers and caregivers and so feel the need to help others grow. All of these things are generalized statements about women and in individuals some aspects may be stronger than others according to the way that God made us but it still holds true. So though in stereotype I may seem to be more like a boy, in the central core of my personality and character, I am all girl.