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It's always surprised me how much faith many people put in genes and "nature", and how many people really seem to believe that we're actually meant to be a certain way. I do not believe that. I believe that we assert our personality based on input from the people around us, from bill boards, tv-shows, parents, teachers, classmates and so forth and so on. Why am I bringing this up? Well, I'll tell you.
Yesterday, I had an awful time at school trying to get back on track with my studying (which still gives me trouble breathing when I think about it). Finally, I gave up and decided to go work out my aggression at the campus gym instead. Now, the campus gym has a very shady feel to it. It's small, it's filled with free weights (is that what it's called?), and it's kinda dark. Surprisingly enough, it's still filled with very manly men who can lift themselves and/or a lot of extra weight practically anywhere, and 90 pound girls in matching sports wear running on treadmills. I think it will surprise noone that I didn't quite fit either picture. And I know that most of my girlfriends would have a problem with not being well dressed enough (I was wearing a baggy old Nightmare before Christmas-teeshirt, different colored socks and a 4-year-old pair of black pants), or not skinny enough, but I had an equal problem not being strong enough to compete with the big, macho guys in the free weights room. And that got me thinking about why I would feel the need to compete with every man/woman I ever meet.
Then, after I was done working out (there was also an embarrassing story of how I met a cute guy from my class while really red in the face and lifting, I kid you not (blasted carpal tunnel), 2 pound weights, but more on that later), I decided to shop all the food I needed for my dinner party tonight. When I was done, I had to carry 3 bags of groceries and my very large purse around with me. When I sat down on the subway I ended up placing them between my legs, making me sit in a very masculine position. And then I remembered the exact moment I decided to become a feminist.
It was my tenth birthday. My family and I had taken a trip to Denmark to celebrate, and my father had run out to buy danish (you know, wienerbrød) for breakfast. I didn't like danish, never really cared for them, so it was pretty much a let down for me. Also, they'd decorated them with the Danish flag which is neither here nor there. It was my birthday, not a national holiday, and definitely not the Danish national holiday. But I was a polite and nice child, so I ate two and pretended like they were my favorite (I think my parents to this day think that I'm the type of person who loves Danish pastries). We were sitting in a circle around a too-small hotel room table and my father and two older brothers were sitting with their legs far apart in a very comfortable and, I would soon find out, very masculine stance. I, of course taking my cue from them, did the same. My mom and dad were quick to show me that that's not how girls are supposed to sit. I was an innocent child and asked them why not, if my brothers did it, why not me? And all conversation sort of froze as they tried to think of an actual good reason for why girls shouldn't be able to sit the same way as boys. They didn't find one, but still ended up insisting that girls just don't do that, and as I carefully placed my legs across one another in a classical feminine pose, I decided that I would not be one of those girls who do not question the rules of society.
Sadly enough, this basically translated to me getting an ugly-ass handwriting (because nobody expected the boys to be able to write in a nice and pretty way, so why should I?), a very messy room all the time (same argument) and general outspokenness and a bit of a masculine way of dressing for a while. In the end I got to the real feminist battles, and I'm still sticking to them, but I notice that even though I've been a feminist since I was ten, it takes three bags of groceries between my legs to make me sit in a masculine fashion on the subway. Sometimes it feels like I'm fighting an uphill battle.
Yesterday, I had an awful time at school trying to get back on track with my studying (which still gives me trouble breathing when I think about it). Finally, I gave up and decided to go work out my aggression at the campus gym instead. Now, the campus gym has a very shady feel to it. It's small, it's filled with free weights (is that what it's called?), and it's kinda dark. Surprisingly enough, it's still filled with very manly men who can lift themselves and/or a lot of extra weight practically anywhere, and 90 pound girls in matching sports wear running on treadmills. I think it will surprise noone that I didn't quite fit either picture. And I know that most of my girlfriends would have a problem with not being well dressed enough (I was wearing a baggy old Nightmare before Christmas-teeshirt, different colored socks and a 4-year-old pair of black pants), or not skinny enough, but I had an equal problem not being strong enough to compete with the big, macho guys in the free weights room. And that got me thinking about why I would feel the need to compete with every man/woman I ever meet.
Then, after I was done working out (there was also an embarrassing story of how I met a cute guy from my class while really red in the face and lifting, I kid you not (blasted carpal tunnel), 2 pound weights, but more on that later), I decided to shop all the food I needed for my dinner party tonight. When I was done, I had to carry 3 bags of groceries and my very large purse around with me. When I sat down on the subway I ended up placing them between my legs, making me sit in a very masculine position. And then I remembered the exact moment I decided to become a feminist.
It was my tenth birthday. My family and I had taken a trip to Denmark to celebrate, and my father had run out to buy danish (you know, wienerbrød) for breakfast. I didn't like danish, never really cared for them, so it was pretty much a let down for me. Also, they'd decorated them with the Danish flag which is neither here nor there. It was my birthday, not a national holiday, and definitely not the Danish national holiday. But I was a polite and nice child, so I ate two and pretended like they were my favorite (I think my parents to this day think that I'm the type of person who loves Danish pastries). We were sitting in a circle around a too-small hotel room table and my father and two older brothers were sitting with their legs far apart in a very comfortable and, I would soon find out, very masculine stance. I, of course taking my cue from them, did the same. My mom and dad were quick to show me that that's not how girls are supposed to sit. I was an innocent child and asked them why not, if my brothers did it, why not me? And all conversation sort of froze as they tried to think of an actual good reason for why girls shouldn't be able to sit the same way as boys. They didn't find one, but still ended up insisting that girls just don't do that, and as I carefully placed my legs across one another in a classical feminine pose, I decided that I would not be one of those girls who do not question the rules of society.
Sadly enough, this basically translated to me getting an ugly-ass handwriting (because nobody expected the boys to be able to write in a nice and pretty way, so why should I?), a very messy room all the time (same argument) and general outspokenness and a bit of a masculine way of dressing for a while. In the end I got to the real feminist battles, and I'm still sticking to them, but I notice that even though I've been a feminist since I was ten, it takes three bags of groceries between my legs to make me sit in a masculine fashion on the subway. Sometimes it feels like I'm fighting an uphill battle.
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