The Big “First Post”


I think that most of my life, either consciously or unconsciously; directly or indirectly, I have hated myself because I was born female.


I hated myself because I wasn’t as strong as a man;  in my family, since we first 3 kids were girls, we did “men’s work” anyway…and boy, would it have been nice to have a man’s musculature for some of that work.

I hated myself because I wasn’t as cool and detached – businesslike – as my father; as men in general.  Because at the end of the day, I didn’t assess my success or failure by what I’d accomplished, per se, but more by whether or not my relationships with others were healthy or not.

I hated that I get a period, and men don’t.  That it seems to be looked at as a “disease.”  That I did suffer through 15 years of endometriosis (a real disease) needlessly, because I couldn’t get a doctor (all of them male,) to take my symptoms seriously enough to come to a diagnosis.  And that because it was “female” pain, most people wrote it off as being all in my head.

I resent the idea that my interests are not as important as men’s.  That my pursuits are “little,” as in:  my “little dance thing,” [studying to be a Ballroom Dance Instructor,] my “little flower bed,” etc.  I think even if I were to earn a Doctorate it would be referred to as “my little Doctorate thing.”  One guy I dated for several years referred to every single craft I did as “knitting,” even though I had repeatedly informed him I have no idea how to knit, nor any real desire to learn.

I hate that my intelligence is somehow not taken as seriously as a man’s.  I actually have a pretty high IQ, and am fully capable of grasping any concept that any man (that I know) can.  Yet people always seem surprised to find this out.

I like fishing, trucks, snowmobiles, motorcycles and a lot of other outdoor activities.  But somehow I’ve never been overly disposed toward dirt, slime, or grease…a serious handicap in those activities.  (Never prevented me, though.) I also don’t love competition, though I’m actually prone to it, and find it exhilarating from time to time.

Somehow, I’ve always felt at a disadvantage–second-best–in being a woman, and that the world really is definitely built by, and centered around men.  I hope that idea is not in my head just because I happen to have been born in the 70’s.  I am pretty sure I actually would have come to that conclusion fairly easily regardless of when I was born.  There is always at least a vague awareness of the fact, when one is not living up to one’s potential, or fulfilling one’s purpose in this life, especially when one feels it is because they are being thwarted in their efforts.

However, I have very little to show for any of it.  Hate never really changed anything for the better.  Screaming to be heard, to be acknowledged, doesn’t achieve recognition, respect, or equality.  In fact, it does a pretty good job of reinforcing the idea that women are “emotional,” prone to outbursts, and not to be taken seriously.  Swearing off men doesn’t work either, because they are a part of the world and we are all interdependent.

Somehow, I’ve got to come up with a working strategy for being a woman in this modern society (since that is where I live,) and not only that, for being the intelligent, independent woman that I am, unapologetically.  Because, I truly believe that if we women are not authentic, we are cheating not only ourselves, but also the world.  The only way I feel I can really make it to a ripe old age is by really LIVING as me, as female, as the creature God made me to be.

And thus begins my journey, of trying to figure out what a truly modern, good (and for me, Catholic,) woman is:  how she fits in to this crazy world we live in today, and how she can live God’s plan for her–to do the most good, without sacrificing her true nature or dignity.


May God, Mary, and all the Saints & Angels please help me, and show me the way!


❦                                        ❦                                        ❦


Published in: on November 4, 2009 at 4:20 AM  Leave a Comment  
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