Thursday, 12 May 2016

Sunkissed


I love this time of the year IF it ever happens. I spend a couple of hours in the sun and i get all browned up. Then i catch a glimpse of myself and i look great. I look like the colour which i have always meant to look like. Not like the usual pasty paleness, but brown and golden and somehow, despite having spent time in the sun, i also look younger! So much for all that nonsense about the sun aging you.

I know this sound very conceited, but i don't really care. Being perfectly content with the way i look is one of the blessings in my life. I know that women spend a lot of time worrying about they way they look and doing so much about it. It seems the average woman spends one hour every morning getting ready for anything. That is the hair, the make up, the everything. I spend about five minutes in the toilet getting ready. I brush my teeth, splash water on my face and put on some Vit E Body Shop thingy. That is my 'beauty regimen' for the day. If i am feeling energetic i will put on body cream. This happens about once a week. Because right now i have this body cream which i don't really like.

Sometimes i think, maybe i SHOULD pay more attention to how I look. Maybe I should try to wear make up more often. I mean, when i DO wear make up, i look quite nice. And i think maybe i should learn how to do eye shadow and eyeliner properly. But then everytime i have tried doing that i look like a drag queen. I wonder perhaps if i have a face which makes me look like a drag queen when i put on too much make up? Or does that happen to everyone?

(Drag queen... no one uses that phrase anymore - they say transvestite now. Why don't they say drag?)

So my entire life i have given precisely no fucks to how i have looked. But paradoxically, i have always loved the way i looked. I have never looked in the mirror on an average day and thought, i look horrible. I wish i had a larger nose, thinner lips, higher cheekbones. Never. I have always loved my overly large bum and my rather non existent boobs. I think when i was eight, i did go through a phase of wanting blonde hair and blue eyes. But that did eventually wear off.

Ah, it is great being a feminist. This is one of the perks feminists never talk about. Just to be able to deconstruct the 'beauty industry' and go, actually, i am not going to do that, and i can tell you PRECISELY why. I remember when i first discovered feminism. It was such a relief. For the first time ever i found the language to describe EXACTLY what i had been feeling all these years. It was literally a lightbulb moment. OH MY GOD!!! I am not crazy. I have always felt this raging injustice in my heart and the pit of my stomach and wow, that feels great, that feels good, being able to give it a name. I think that if i never discovered feminism, i would have almost certainly gone crazy. Neurotic at the very least.

Of course, i was a little bit anorexic when i was 15, but looking back, i realise that it wasn't about trying to be thin, it was about not growing up. And also, of course, not wanting to be a woman, because even at the age of 15 i knew that being a woman is a tough gig.

I know, that as a result, i have always been terrifying to men. I can't help this. I can't help this that most men find me terribly off putting. That i speak my mind and that i am perfectly happy to take anyone on. In less and less rude ways as the years go by, but nevertheless i will call a spade a spade. And if you are talking nonsense i will say, you are talking nonsense - actually i am more likely to say, could you please explain that to me, and follow the ensuing explanation with more questions. This is mostly because, despite being a feminist, i also a, gender blind. I don't really think about men as men and women as women. I sort of see them as all equals on a individual level. So it baffles me when surveys show that women speak less than men at meetings. I have always been of the opinion that if you have something to say then you should say it. Being quiet is not an option, and if you were quiet, then you have no right to complain when things don't go your way later.

But i would almost certainly prefer being terrifying to men and being terrified of them. And real men actually don't find me terrifying. Real men enjoy the challenge, the debate, the equality. Isn't that the paradox? It is only men who are insecure in their maleness which find strong women hard to deal with. And of course, i MUCH prefer real men.

Thus comes the end of the week. I am completely exhausted. Today i thought, i will stay in bed for 24 hours this weekend. That is my idea of HEAVEN. The weather has been amazing though. And i think i might also do lots of gardening this weekend. Finally we are able to do this! Lots of violas and primulas will be dug in. Ah, the promise of summer made good. Even if it is for a few brief days so far. Everything seems right with the world.

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