I AN NOT A WOMAN (even though I am)

(I wrote this for International Women’s Day and I’m not 100% happy with it- I fear that it could be seen as anti-feminist or lessening hardships- but eh, I’ll post it anyway.)

I am a woman because I’m not “not” a woman.

I am a woman because a doctor saw my form on an ultrasound and declared me to be one.

I am a woman because that’s what it says on my birth certificate.

I am a woman because when my worldview expanded and I discovered that birth certificates are not the be-all end-all in declaring one’s gender, I asked myself if I still felt like a woman and the immediate answer was: yes.

I am woman. Hear me roar. Or hear me softly mutter under my breath.

But.

I am NOT a woman BECAUSE I was born with XX chromosomes.

I am NOT a woman BECAUSE I feel comfortable wearing dresses and lipstick.

I am NOT a woman BECAUSE I am sensitive and caring.

I relate to womanhood. I do not relate to femininity.

This is not my way of saying, “I’m not like all the other girls.” There’s an implicit binary in that statement. If you’re “not like the other girls,” you probably have traits or interests that are considered masculine. I am NOT “one of the boys.” I choose to reject the binary, while still placing myself at one end of its confines.

I AM a woman. But I am not a social construct.

I do NOT find it empowering to wear revealing clothing, make my face up, or get my hair done, BECAUSE conforming to those beauty standards feels too rigid.

“I’m proud to be a woman!… a conventionally attractive, no deviation from the norm, presentable for public consumption woman!”

I do NOT find any resonance in “pussy power,” not only BECAUSE this doesn’t apply to a lot of women, but also because I find it reductive to define myself via a body part. And I do NOT (often) feel a connection to “rah rah, you go girl” feminist empowerment, either.

“Your song that you wrote about your complex experience with romantic attraction could be a feminist anthem! Because no one else could ever relate to something like that!”

And for the love of god, I CANNOT filter my own experience of being a woman through the sole lens of how it differs from being a man.

“Men are stupid.”

“Men are dicks.”

“Men suck.”

Again, an implicit binary- woman are smart, women are kind, women should be celebrated. I won’t disagree. But I CANNOT empower myself by tearing another person down. And I CANNOT categorize people by gender identity in the first place, because the world is so much more varied than that.

I am NOT a mirror image. I am NOT half of a whole. I AM COMPLETE.

If any of the above empowers you- I’m happy for you. Or at least I won’t criticize the ways that you find strength. I’m also not saying that we SHOULDN’T celebrate women every March (and every day, honestly), that we SHOULD exclude women’s voices from society, that we SHOULDN’T stand up and denounce it when laws are passed that disproportionately affect women, that we SHOULD shame women for being too loud, for being too quiet, for being fat, for being thin, for shaving their body hair, for not shaving their body hair, for liking sex, for not liking sex, for expressing their emotions, for not expressing their emotions, for having children, for not having children, for deviating in any way from what one’s imagined standard of “normal” womanhood is.

I’m saying that there is no singular experience of being a woman, and that THAT is what should be celebrated.

I’m saying that femininity can be toxic, just as masculinity can be toxic. Though I don’t mean to diminish the issue of toxic masculinity at all, because any strict reinforcement of gendered stereotypes is unhealthy in my eyes.

I’m saying- to quote Fiona Apple, who I believe was quoting someone else- fetch the fucking bolt cutters.

I am a human before I’m a woman. But I am still a woman. And while that may not matter a WHOLE lot to me (probably because I never had to question, or had anyone question, whether I was one or not), it DOES matter.

Happy International Women’s Day. 💖

[insert photos of me in my flannel & jeans and in my nicest dress- two outfits that I feel equally comfortable in, but which give completely different impressions]