I'm going to try something different today. It's been a while since I last posted anything, and I've sort of missed ranting a little. I don't know if anyone even reads these things, but that's probably a bonus since I'm not convinced people actually enjoy reading what I write.
So. On to what I want to try.
For this post, I'll just start with a single topic and let things develop any which way they like, (mostly) unscripted.
Topic: things that have changed since I was a child
For one, I'm trying to be less of a projected ideal and more of a person. At some point in my childhood, I'd decided that being girly was something disgusting, something undesirable. I didn't want to enjoy Barbies anymore--I wanted sports and shorts. And I suppose it was around this time that I started actively dissociating myself from typically feminine traits, completely disregarding my actual opinions of each individual trait I was putting down.
Make up was for girly girls, so I won't like it. Skirts were for girly girls, so I won't wear them. Romance was for girly girls, so I won't let myself read about it.
Needless to say, the real me isn't actually so black and white, and I'd like to think that, at this age, I'd stopped trying to delude myself, if not everyone else.
I'm fine with make up. I like how it looks, sometimes, how it blends and how it makes somebody look completely different. I like the possibilities, the way different styles were suited for different contexts, the way it could hide flaws and accentuate pretty much anything. I like the eye shadow palettes with their perfectly coordinated shades, I like the surreal juiciness that gloss gives to lips, I like the smooth lines of properly applied eyeliner. I like the different shades of blush that range from pink to orange to brown, the shimmer of subtle eye shadow and the unreal boldness of mascara. It's a bit like art, really.
I'm fine with skirts. They can be a little impractical, but at least I'm allowed to wear them. Many males will probably never know what it's like to wear one, so I should at least indulge in this privilege for a bit. It's also been far too long since I've worn one anyway, and the first skirt that wasn't part of a school uniform that I added to my wardrobe felt like the start of a new chapter, the armour for a more honest me. It's still slow going, but I've recently (well I say 'recently' but I really mean half a year ago) acquired a dress. I pretended that it was unwilling because I still had a reputation to maintain, but in truth I think it suited me fairly well. I wonder what this says about me and how I've been throwing away the chances I could've had to wear feminine clothes that I would've enjoyed for the sake of upholding a ridiculous tomboyish disdain for all things girly. My mother wanted to buy me a skirt, once, a long time back. I did want the skirt--I thought the checkered pattern was cute--but I couldn't bring myself to admit it. I wished that she had pushed harder, forced me to accept it, because I was quietly hoping that her stubbornness could overcome mine. Maybe, if she had, I would've started accepting feminine things sooner.
I'm fine with romance. I may not say this out loud, but I'm starting to allow myself to voice a desire to find somebody to share my life with. It's slow, and it's difficult, because I've been denying this part of myself for so long, but it's happening. I'm opening up. I'm chipping away at the indifference that I've forced on myself as a child and learning to give voice to what I really think--thoughts that, to be quite honest, I'm still coming to terms with myself. Of course, I've not entirely deprived myself of it all. I do read stories with romantic primary plots, but this all happens online, anonymously, where I can pretend that I'm not myself and then ignore what happens online the next day. I remember saying, when I was in secondary school, that I don't ever want to get married, but even then I knew it was a lie. I'm fine with getting married. I do want to get married. But see, the thing is, I'll admit that I'm a little difficult to love, and I'll also admit that I don't want to settle for anything less than perfect, even if I have to personally make it perfect.
So you see, I can be honest with somebody that's not myself. It's just not easy when I'm face-to-face with somebody I've known since I was still firmly in denial about all things traditionally feminine. Even now, if you ever catch me saying I don't like something girly, there's a very good chance that it's just all for show and that I actually do like it. There's also a very good chance that I won't admit it yet, but hey, nobody's perfect.
But you know, things slip through anyway. I have hair combs. Freaking hair combs. I used to put my long hair up with chopsticks, and liked it so much I even went out to shop specifically for nice ones. I watch hair and make up tutorials because why not, and I develop ridiculous crushes on fictional characters. I do ballet. I read shoujo manga. I always look out for romantic subplots in novels. I dream of finding "the one" (even though logically I know they probably don't exist). I stare a little too long at some skirts. I enjoy every chance I get to wear those heeled boots I got a few years back. I'm not as repulsed by pink as I let people think--in fact, I think some shades of pink are downright gorgeous.
But it's also not like everything is a lie. I genuinely can't be bothered to shave or wax even if most people think it's unsightly. (Well, so do I, sometimes, but not enough to do anything about it. At this moment I'm big on accepting my body the way it is and trying to ignore what society tells me females should look like--because, honestly, if guys don't have to shave body hair, why should I?) I vacillate between liking my hair cropped short like a boy's and left long like some Heian noblewoman. I prefer chunkier, simpler, and matte accessories. I think I look good in straight jeans. My colour scheme is dark and unsaturated, with a strong preference for black. I like backpacks with thick, practical straps. I may care about my weight but I would dine at KFC every day if I weren't so afraid that I'd eat myself to an early grave by heart attack.
Well. I guess this rant didn't take much of a detour, but hey, at least I managed to get something off my chest.
