4 minute read
SO, THIS IS WHAT I KNOW ABOUT BEING A WOMAN
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I’m a girlfriend, a hated enemy, counselor, mediator and yeah sometimes an instigator.
That makes me a woman.
When I was in the fifth grade boys were interested in what was underneath girls dresses.
So they slid pieces of broken mirror in between the laces of their gym shoes and made up excuses to stand close to me and my girlfriends at recess so they could
look up in between our legs. When we found out what they were doing, we hit them sharply on their backs with the flat palm of our hands and they would run away, afraid of more reprisals from us.
That gave me power like a woman.
On the first day of middle school and the end of summer vacation, I wore my first bra and got my period. I decided to wear a scoop necked, choker attached, short sleeved baby blue double knit top with a denim maxi skirt and platform sandals. I was new to my class and when I entered I met a bunch of strange faces, just like mine, but I was the only girl who decided to wear a long skirt. So I stood out.
I felt different because all the other girls wore miniskirts or jeans.That made me feel like a woman.In high school things changed.The dynamics of my life changed.I didn’t have the same friends again.New teachers, new school, new classes, new boys, new men, new attitudes.
In one blazing moment when we all sat together for the first time you could smell it in the air.
It was thick because we were all taking deep breaths at the same time.The sexual tension, the anticipation of the day and then swoop!
The door opened and it was like a back draft of air got sucked out of the room. You could see the fumes of air being sucked into our lungs as he put down his folder and pen and introduced himself.
“I’m Mister, Homeroom Teacher”. You fill in the blank. “And from this day forward you will be referred to as Mr. or Miss, whatever your last name is.”
That made me think of myself as a woman.I fell in love with him in my senior year.He had his choice of girls in my opinion.Our lockers were next to each other.Had been for two yearsWe shared lunch and classes together but he never really seemed to notice me.Until one day.
I wore my nicest pants, prettiest shoes, curled my hair tight, slathered some Vaseline on my lips and a big confident smile.
I was determined to get him to see me as more than just this girl next to his locker.
When he stood next to me that day, I looked at him from the corner of my eye and gave him a smile and said “Hi.”
It was the longest five seconds of my life.But that was the plan.Just give him a good long look at me and saunter away.
In homeroom he asked for a pen and I gave him one and turned around as if not to notice him, but secretly hoping he would say more than thanks.
He turned back to me and asked if I was sitting with anyone at lunch
We sat together from that day on.Became best friends.
I was in love with him. My first love, my first lover, father of my first child, my first broken heart.
That made me think like a woman.
I’m nineteen years old now and I am in city college. I’m a mom, an employee, I’m smoking weed, experimenting with coke. I’ve had three other lovers. I’ve got my own place. My baby’s daddy has baled on me with no reason why and I’m alone, and scared.
I have so much to do and no time to do anything with any real assurance of the outcome.
But I’m the only one making the decisions now.So I go with my gut and take my chances.Some work out. The rest, I still don’t know.But every day is different and I just keep moving.juggling my day and night. Day after day.This makes me a woman
From he day I got married, to the husband I have today, to the children I bore in this marriage, to meals I’ve cooked, the diapers I’ve changed, the booboo’s I’ve kissed, teeth I’ve pulled, arguments I’ve adjudicated, tears I’ve cried, jobs I’ve held in my spare time; if that ever really existed, volunteer work, play dates, parties, nights out, lights out, daybreaks, breakfasts, lunches, dinners, snacks, to vacations and lack of recreation; from paying bills and managing business deals, taping sports games, shopping for first shoes, first bras, first pads and suits and coffins
and flowers and baby showers and more weddings, to my first gray hairs and retirements plans and long nights of rest and tossing and turning and doctor’s appointments, to health care professionals and laundry climbing up to my knees.
When all I really wanted, was to sit in a hot tub of water, with bubbles, listening to my favorite tunes, while holding my drink of choice, with refills waiting,
without someone knocking at the door asking for their shoe, sock or just to pee.From the moment I entered this world and the doctor said “It’s a girl”.That made me a woman.And I could go on but it would be more of the same.
The same days which bleed into each other because as I live each day, I have to make decisions off the cuff that have nothing to do with the scheduled time table of events that are charted in my calendar of the things that are planned to do and the things I have to do everyday. Not to be confused with the things that come up everyday that require my immediate attention and how I put most things on the back burner to simmer until the waters drained out.
Because while I know how to juggle today, tomorrow and right now. And when to take the pot off the fire and rescue the vestiges of my day so I can wake up fresh the next morning and begin again.
These things make me act like a woman
These are some of the things that have brought the woman out of me. The plethora of decisions I make daily don’t define me. They personify me.
So this is what I know and I’m still here.
One day my daughter will read this and look at her life and these words will not make her a woman but she will look at her own life and define the things that have made her, the woman, she will be one day.
