I am Woman, Hear me Roar

I saw this documentary the other day called “A Slim Peace” which still has me thinking.  The framing concept was to bring together 7 Palestinian women, 7 Israeli women, some Jewish, some Muslim, some secular, and some Bedoin women to focus on the shared goal of losing weight.  Since women universally struggle with acceptance of their bodies, the filmaker explored if through this commonality they could unite in a war torn area like the West bank to recognize their connectedness instead of their differences.  While this concept was intriguing, the film left  me frustrated because although common ground was shared during the program; a year later no long lasting effects could be seen.  I was also frustrated with the notion that women should bond over their disdain of their weight and the foods they eat.  Too often as women, we choose to speak the “language of fat” rather than express the deeper emotions that cause us to feel the way we feel, which is the underlying reason most of us overeat in the first place.  Furthermore, as long as we focus on our bodies, we diminish our power and allow our identity to be defined by external forces.

This documentary made me ponder not only body image, but gender roles over the weekend.  In my experience as a lesbian, gender roles can be rather fluid.   I believe that gender roles are largely defined by societial expectations and less so by nature (or actual gender).  As I mused over gender roles and my previous relationships I acknowledged that for the most part I identify as a femme “girly girl”.  However, labels don’t allow for all the multi-faceted dimensions of a person to be truly appreciated.  Like many others virtues (including sexuality), it isn’t as clean cut as checking off a box in a black and white fashion.  While I relish putting on an evening gown, heels, and lipstick; I also really enjoy sporting soccer shorts, a grubby t-shirt, and some flops.  I can do the yard work, but I can also cook up a mean gourmet meal.  I can be the nurturing mother type and I can also be the one needing the nurturing.  I can clean the house but I can also put together my own furniture or equipment.  But to be honest, there are days I like to be the femme and let a butch take care of me.  Sometimes I like someone to do those things that are more “male identified” roles(as society defines them anyway).  I have a friend that always takes my trash to the alley for me.  I can do it myself, but I love that she does it without me asking.

I am still trying to master this being alone and still bullshit.  I started thinking the other day about all the things I may need a partner for. (By the way, I have officially run out of projects so yesterday and today I rearranged my whole house and two patios and courtyard, bought and put together a plant stand, some new outdoor rugs, and re-ran the cable.  The new look is refreshing and my happiness today is around 9.5 for the first time in a month.)   Instead of reveling in the pity party I meant to throw, I felt galvanized by the things I have done in recent years all on my own.  They may be simple things, but some are things I may have previously depended on a partner to fufill, others were things I didn’t think I was capable of, and yet others were things I just didn’t want to face by myself.

Here are just a few things this girly girl did on her own or without a partner that she is proud of:

Making it on my own after leaving a marriage with nothing, setting up 3 tents for her and her friends in under an hour, gathering my own wood, building my own fire, changing my bike tire, changing a car tire, canoe over canoe rescue, hiring and firing my own financial planner, driving cross country, defending myself against a bunch of gang thugs with bricks and bats, carrying and setting up the beach stuff for Claire (we are talking a whole SUV in one trip), dinner and  movies all by myself, grilling up a slab of meat, and presenting to a room of hundreds of male engineers.  And all of that is just the beginning, I even own my own tool set (although it is pink). 

I’m thinking the butchy side of life is a little empowering.  I am glad that I can keep exploring, learning, and growing; and I don’t have to fit into a little box or a specific role.  Whether I like it or not, this week I will keep practicing what Buddhists call “leaning into the sharp points of life.”  Here is one thing I know for sure, to quote Joan of Arc ” I am not afraid, for I was born to do this.”

 

 

 

~ by Phoenix Rising on June 17, 2009.