I am not a girly feminine girl by any stretch of the
imagination. When I was a small child I did not play with dolls, in fact I had
no interest in dolls whatsoever, it was all about stuffed animals with me. I
never owned a Barbie or wanted to. I disliked dresses (I still do) and
preferred trainers to heels until I was about 20. Then I decided I do kinda
like heels sometimes, maybe 1 day in 50 but only if I don’t have to walk
anywhere in them.
I have spent my entire life studiously ignoring what the
world tells me I should be and do because I am a woman. I got married in a
trouser suit (and anyone who remembers the trauma of trying to find a dress
will smirk in reflection of the horror – it was not a smirking occasion at the
time, I can tell you). I did not have bridesmaids either or a hideous ‘L plate’
hen do.
I do not wear make-up unless I REALLY have to and then I
sort of resent it. This worries me as I am getting older and starting to realise
that unless I start learning how to put make up on properly and on a daily
basis my face will really start to resemble a bag of spanners all the time
whereas up to now I have pretty much got away with just not bothering at all. I
am basically useless at applying make-up when I can be arsed, which is
thankfully not very often.
I do not understand how anybody can take longer than 30
minutes from bed to door in a morning. Thankfully my disinterest in cosmetics
helps with this. I can shower and sort my hair out in around this timescale but
I will never be cheerful in a morning, I like my sleep too much which is why I
am the master at getting ready in the least time possible.
I get my eyebrows waxed every few months (I currently have
not had them done since we left the UK in March though) and I get my hair cut
and coloured every couple of months too – these are really my only concessions
to ‘female’ routines.
I have always had close friends who are men – I find them so
much easier to relate to than women and less bitchy. I naturally feel relaxed
walking into a pub on my own and I do not need any guidance to place bets on
sport (although I usually take it from my husband as he has much better
gambling instinct than I do).
Thankfully, I landed a husband who loves me for the fact I am
not concerned with traditionally female whiles. I think he would have an
almighty shock if he realised how much time and money I could feasibly spend on
adhering to such things but I have no intention of doing so (aside from the
worrying fear of HAVING to start wearing make up every day or even just more
often).
None of this is learned behaviour – I just really have never
naturally had any desire to go down that path and likewise I don’t like
children or baby related things and have never really wanted to be a mother
(shock horror etc).
Now you would imagine that those that I have grown up close
to and who know me well would accept and understand that this is just me, just
who I am, just how I am. On the whole they do. My exacerbation at the world
mainly comes from interaction with other women who I don’t know so well that like
to point out that I don’t have a CLUE what I am doing with my life and need to
be careful I don’t make a massive mistake.
It is this attitude of overwhelming arrogance and adherence to
social ‘norms’ which frequently makes it difficult for me to build meaningful friendships
with other women because they judge me
for not liking children, not wanting to throw my life away on them, not
planning fastidiously when to fire up the baby machine. They assume that I
will, at some point, realise that I have ‘missed the boat’ with the kids thing,
now that I am nearly 35 I should be starting to TICK, goddamnit!
And I am socially adept enough to smile and let it go over
my head most of the time and I adhere to the fact that it is not socially
acceptable for me to point out to someone who defines themselves primarily as a
mother that I personally disagree with that life-choice. I refrain from telling
them I think they made a huge mistake in sacrificing their free time,
disposable income and identity for this small, whining monster even though they make no such allowance
for me and my choice not to procreate.
Having kids is a choice. Once you make it you accept that
your life will change irrevocably and if that’s your thing and it’s what you
want to do then – hell yeah – go ahead and do it. I will be joyous for you,
celebrate it with you, remember your kid’s birthdays and mentally cross you off
the list of people we socialise regularly with. But please don’t try to ram it
down my throat as though I am some kind of slightly idiotic moron who does not
know my own mind.
I am SMUG about not having kids because my free time is my
own, I share it with the one person I want to in the world, I read, sleep, work
out, socialise when and how I want, we travel, plan adventures together; our
lives are not empty because we don’t have kids, our lives are wonderfully full.
Now, can anyone teach me how to apply foundation without
looking like a pantomime dame? That would be a USEFUL thing for me to learn
from another woman.
