womanhood

Affirmations.Jewelry.Self-care.Debriefs.Girlfriends.Flowers.Wine nights.Acrylics.

Tampons.Harassment.Crying.Shutting up.Pain.Anxiety.Body dysmorphia.Pepper spray.

Going from girl to woman is a change I used to look forward to. The day flats became heels, lip balm became lipstick, the day dress up became the real deal. I could not wait to ditch my princess dresses and plastic heels; waiting for the day eagerly. Now, as a twenty something year old, there are times I dont even know if I do indeed even think of myself as a “woman,” or what womanhood is and how I ended up being part of this clan.

When did makeup become annoying? When did heels become a burden? When did carrying a purse become a chore?

When did skirts become a risk? When did my body and clothes become a liability? When did expressing and feeling my emotions go from something normal to an annoying stereotype?

When did opening my eyes start feeling like a closed door?

As a little girl, like many of my friends, I used to dream of a Prince Charming, not necessarily on a horse or magic carpet, but you know, willing to take me on a somewhat magical adventure.

When did kisses turn into nothings? When did my body become an object? When did my mouth start being considered a nuisance? When did I turn mirrors into my bullies?

When did the fantasy disperse?

Call me a hopeless romantic (I won’t be mad I promise, because I know I am), but when did the dreams of loving my life as a woman turn into “well, I guess this is just how life is as a woman.”

I believe women are strong individuals. Power houses that can endure just about anything. Sometimes I think maybe we’ve evolved into such because life loves to throw challenges at us, big and small. Challenges life and society have embedded into the woman experience.

I’m tired. Sometimes I think about just how much bs I put up with simply because of my genetic makeup. I’m tired of continuing to dream of a fantasy life that I don’t know if I’ll ever even have. I’m tired of others not only silently questioning a woman’s every move and choice about things those same individuals would not even fathom second glancing at nor doubting were it a man. I’m tired of fearing for my life at times.

I’m tired of having to sit still and look pretty. I’m tired of sucking in my belly. I’m tired of the taboo surrounding my body. I’m tired of not comfortably talking about cramps, about periods. I’m tired of putting others before myself.

I’m tired of the fact that it’s almost part of my schedule for me to question myself.

Isn’t it sad? How tired one can be of an experience one didn’t choose to be the way it is? At times I want to scream, or cry, or both, for hours. But that’s fine, right? Because women are emotional.

I don’t think anyone but women know and can vouch for the power and strength in women feeling their emotions. How brave it is to acknowledge and let yourself feel.

I’m tired of being torn down because of feelings. Because of emotions. And not because of others, but because I have also done it to myself.

Womanhood is not all bad, of course. It is full of happy moments and joys that no one else can fully understand. The woman experience is one I would not change for another, one that has been a great teacher for me and I know will continue to be. One that will always be a part of me.

I must admit, however, that at times I do let my mind wander though, and think about how life was before it suddenly hit.

Life before womanhood.