Getting out while the getting's good.

It’s never been a secret that I am not a “lady”; not to me, or anyone who knows me. And to be honest, I’m not all that concerned about it.

It seems to me that there the guidelines we set on women and men in our culture are in no way beneficial to anyone. They are limiting and discriminatory, rigid and unforgiving. The molds that were created for us hundreds of years ago are suffocating yet many people spent a lifetime trying to fit themselves inside of it. Uncomfortable? Quite.

But even more than uncomfortable, it is painful. It is our culture’s habit to make people feel bad, guilty, and ashamed of themselves simply because they do not fit a mold that was shaped so long ago that they are neither helpful nor relevant. We don’t tell them that, though. We just tell them to fit, and maybe not so directly, but with the bombardment of all the silent, covert, sneaky and disguised cues in our movies, our music, our commercials, our everything, the messages are quite clear.

Girls wear pink. Boys don’t play with dolls. Girls will be wives and mothers. Boys will make the money. Women clean. Men mow the lawn. Women take care of the kids. Men discipline them. If you have a child, you should be married. If you are gay, you are a pervert. If you are a “minority” then it is a surprise if you succeed or not a victim of poverty. If you’re not religious then you are a bad person. If you believe in God then you are right. If you enjoy being alone then you have emotional issues. If you’re too friendly then you’re easy.

So many equations and “since you are this therefore you are this” type thinking that we not only ignore peoples’ unique traits and lifestyles, we actually insult them, degrade them, punish them. When did we stop cherishing the differences in ourselves and start coveting uniformity and sameness? Why do we claim to revel in the beauty of difference and diversity and variety when what we actually do is stifle those things as a habit?

I often like to close my eyes and think about what I should be like, if I were to follow our culture’s idea of what a lady of my age should be. But all I can think about is in how many ways I am in no way even close to our culture’s ideal…

I have a hard time remembering to sit with my legs closed (especially, it seems, when I am wearing a dress) and it’s always been a natural instinct of mine to be an avid competitor in burping contests. I’m not married or in a relationship that will lead to it, and at twenty five that is sort of weird. Even more, I don’t have dreams of a white dress and I’m still not entirely sure if I will ever have children. I’d love to have a booming career that takes me places; literally and figuratively. I don’t require diamonds or gold, and my daily cosmetic routine is basic, at best. I can’t style my hair, and in terms of dressing myself, I lack a certain style. And it isn’t rare for me to question whether or not I’ll be able to cook myself food other than grilled cheese or boxed macaroni and cheese.

And I’m not worried. I’m not helpless, or floundering. I don’t base my happiness on how well I fit into the mold; and actually find more happiness in the fact that I don’t. I have nothing against any woman (or man) who wants to fit the mold or actually does, I just realize that I don’t, never will, and don’t want to.

I don’t want to limit myself so I sure as hell don’t want someone else to set limits on me. I’m not dangerous or stupid, I don’t sacrifice helpless animals or cry myself to sleep. I simply try to follow my heart and not just accept myself, but love myself. And so far, so good.

I just wish our culture would get the hint.