Monday, April 25, 2016

A Woman's Worth

Why do we use the feminine pronoun for cars, boats, means of transportation on which men ride, etc...? Perhaps because that's "how it has always been" or because there has been a societal inclination to value femininity on some pedestal, making vehicles comparable to a woman. {Thinking out loud}

What does "ladylike" and "feminine" even mean? {Aside from the dictionary meaning, smart aleck} Can't women be strong, timid, brave, rugged, pristine, tomboyish, enjoy Tonka Trucks and Barbie dolls, etc.? Once again, I take it one step beyond in order to be thought-provoking... I see how magazines collaborate life and fashion, but it all still seems hokey in the scheme of things, with an intent on morphing us for improvement towards societal ideals. Even in the 21st century, there's still that fight to prove oneself in the dog-eat-dog "man's world."

My parents have told me before to be more "ladylike" and that I'm "not with the boys anymore," referencing my high school years of wrestling on the boys' team. This is where the questioning comes in - what makes one "ladylike," these archaic societal rules of crossing one's legs, wearing dresses.... Perhaps what they meant was I should be more mindful {okay, I've stopped burping at the table as we're not in an Eastern country which views this as polite}. Yet this could be counted as somewhat counter-intuitive as they have taught me the meaning of hard work and independence so my sister and I would never have to depend upon someone else, but be interdependent, which is how I've always viewed my parents - equal partners in life and marriage.

On a deeper, more personal scale, I still struggle with my own feeling of self worth, whether that be as a woman, a career-goer, friend, daughter. After years of correlating the size of  my pants with personal success, a constant battle to excel in the acceleration of grades and accomplishments while simultaneously accounting a declination in weight as a metric. Any misdeed, any mishap or mistake, any screw up, and I felt myself unworthy to eat that day or should be punished with an extra 500 crunches. In my mind, I deserved the punishment because any wrongdoing meant I sucked for messing up. Those feelings of self-doubt don't simply cease, albeit it seems so much easier to prove my muster externally than convince myself otherwise...

However, this is perverse way of thinking is not an isolated case, but a prevalent occurrence, self-doubt being an infectious worm infiltrating even the best of minds {not that mine falls into that category...}

Touching gingerly upon taboo subjects {among older generations}, tattoos and piercings - I had an intricately spun spiel on such matters in my Notes app which is conveniently inaccessible in my currently broken iPhone, but may be recoverable upon its resuscitation, these more detailed options may need to such, why are these seen as either an enhancer or detractor on women? Why can't they be taken as they are, art? Just as equally, so is bare skin; it is our choices to make our bodies into the type of art we wish to project. Our skin, it is a living, breathing chalice of life, whether it be permanently marked from ink or follies a{scars}, or not. Every etching upon the flesh has a story or a mere "just because," but even that lends itself to the beauty the body is...

Latest ink in her own handwriting: Love Grammy

Labels: why can't actions speak louder than the ink on our skin or the curvature of our face/body?

Multiple tangents unfolding and weaving all at once, I'm afraid.


Update: dumb me forgot the last backup was at the end of January, so no go on those Notes... *sigh*

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