Ashamed & Afraid: Mean Girls

(Disclaimer:  I've been putting this off for a while now; I know it needs to be written, but I'm still not sure how to go about it. There is just so much; so many little things that all mashed together to create a really big thing. There will more likely than not be follow-ups, and this one will most definitely need to be re-written.)

     When I turned six, I was going to be a boy. At least, that is what Mom tells me. I don't remember; there's actually very little that I do remember in detail from when I was younger. Anyway, my birthday came and went, and I was still a girl; but I wasn't too upset about it since I had forgotten about it by the time my birthday had come.

     As long as I can remember, I've always preferred the company of boys. I preferred they types of games that boys usually play, the rough and tumble ones, the sports-like ones, to those of baby dolls and house that most girls are inclined towards. I was outdoorsy and didn't mind getting muddy and playing in cold puddles. While perhaps a little on the smaller side, I was never particularly dainty. 

     There was more to it than that, though - you see, the girls I knew were mean. And I don't mean just a little bit mean, I mean really mean. Mom tells me of a time when I came home from first grade in tears, because the girls were teasing me for "flirting" with one of the boys. I was six; I didn't even know what flirting was. Somewhere between 6 and 8, though I'm inclined to think closer to 6, I was at a birthday party for a girl, and the other girls teased her so much she left her own party in tears. My parents stopped allowing me to sleep over my "best" friend's house because they were tired of the midnight call saying that I wanted to go home, because she teased me so badly. Perhaps I was an overly sensitive child, but it does not change the fact that I was affected deeply by my experiences. 
     
     I was (and still am) afraid of girls. Oh, there were some that I got along alright with, but we were always the odd ones out, the rejects of the girl cliques. The meanness was still there, even as I got older, even among the more rough and tumble sports minded girls. There was one time, at a soft ball game, where on of my team mates asked me what it was like to be home schooled, and not even a second into my answer she turned her back and started talking to someone else on the bench. I was excited that someone was actually taking the time to get to know me, but a person learns quickly to to keep to stick to herself after such encounters. 

     Boys, on the other hand, were cool. And much nicer, in comparison. I don't remember ever being teased by the boys I knew and hung out with. Oh, there was the typical pick the girl last for the team stuff (which I will address in another post), but it was sort of expected and only made me try harder at whatever game it was, so maybe next time I wouldn't be dead last. Boys were so much easier to get along with, to talk to; and they still are. Even now, in mixed gatherings it takes pretty much all of my willpower not to join the menfolk and listen in on whatever it is they are discussing. Granted, having the boys to watch makes not doing so a little easier, but the temptations is still very much there. 

     Ugh. It's getting late, and my brain is foggy. The basic gist of this post, if you've made it this far, is that females of the human race terrify me, and have done so for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately for me, I am one, which makes things rather complicated, because most everything (sports, the bathroom, etc.) requires that I be in close proximity to others. Plus the fact that I don't like girls but am one kinda messes with one's head. Anyway, as much as I could, I chose the company of males, which proved to pose it's own problems, which will be the subject of my next post one of my next posts.  (I really need to stop promising things like that....) 

Comments

  1. I somewhat identify with this. I always thought that it would be easier for me if I were a boy, I love football, "man" food, beer, and most sports in general. I'm in the male-dominated field that is law enforcement. I can't stand most women, the cattiness, the competition, the back-stabbing. I act more male than female at times- I don't hold back and I will call you out on your actions. I always know I've found a good female friend when not only does she not hold a grudge, but will call me out on my own stuff and not go behind my back about it. And yet at the same time, I love being a mom. I like to dress up every now and then and doing "girly" things too. So what am I? I am me. I don't fit into a tidy little box, and I don't believe anyone truly does. Take me as I am or don't, no one decides my worth but the Lord. It took a long time, but I've become comfortable in my own skin and don't care a single bit about what others think of me.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. :) I'm glad to hear you are at a point where you are comfortable being you! I'm still working on it; I thought I was fine until we found out Mary would be joining us in August.

      Delete
  2. I'll be honest, I am currently expecting my fourth child... and my third girl in a row. I was not happy to be having yet another girl, almost devastated, even. I love my girls. LOVE them. But I did not want another one. I think that comes from the general distaste I have for the way certain women are. After many tears and late night discussions with my husband, he said something that changed things for me a bit. I have another girl to raise, yes, but another girl that I can put out into the world that I will teach to be kind, loving and Christ-like. Another girl that won't be a "mean girl" and will be a good friend to other girls. So, I guess what I'm getting at, is enjoy Mary. Teach her to be kind. The rest will follow. Oh, and a little bit of conditioner diluted in water goes a long way at hair brushing time. ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That sounds like a really good way to look at it! She is such a complete sweetheart right now. I'll try to remember the conditioner trick when she gets hair. We seem to go the bald route for a while...

      I hope your birth goes well!

      Delete
  3. Hope you see this, given that it's an old post .... but I totally identify with you here. I got teased badly by girls during the years I was in school. But I also got harassed by boys. I grew up with a brother so I hung out a lot with him and his friends ... but I also had to deal with a lot of "we don't want you around, you're an icky girl." I hardly know how to feel about it -- mostly I just don't like people! ;) That is, I fear strangers and it takes me awhile to feel safe with people, till I know that they're okay.

    I'm not into girly stuff, but not into boy stuff either. I like a random assortment of crafty and brainy stuff which not many people get. I love being married because that means I have one person I can talk to about pretty much anything. I like mixed groups -- I hate it when parties seem to gender-segregate. The conversations are always better when they don't.

    I'm proud to see that so far my daughter isn't any different from her brothers -- she gets into things, she likes hugs, she loves to play, she smiles a lot. I hope that as she grows up we are able to show her that she doesn't have to fit into a certain mold to be loved. She just has to be her best self, and the right people will love her for that. And the wrong people -- why waste time on them?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sorry for taking so long to publish your comment! My new policy is to wait until I have time to reply. Otherwise I forget to. :-/

      I *hate* the gender segregation thing! Yeah, chatting about mom stuff can be nice and all, but I really miss the intellectually stimulating stuff that guys seem to talk about. Though hanging out with guys so much did come with it's own hazards...

      I'm hoping I can help my kids grow to be the people they truly are, and to love themselves as God made them. I just wish it didn't require me digging so much into me.

      Delete

Post a Comment