Girly

When I was small, I didn't much like girly stuff. Boyish stuff was just as bad, in worse colors. At least girly stuff occasionally had some dark purple. The girl toy aisle was awash with dolls (boring) in pastels (meh.) The boyish aisle was dark grey and green (yuck), with cars and dinosaurs and GI Joe cammo (dull.)

I liked the game aisle, which had all the colors, and didn't seem to be pushing as much of an agenda. I always asked for games for birthday and Christmas, even though I had no one to play games with, because at least it wasn't dolls. The infant toys were prettiest of all, in lots of colors, blocks and wheels, I knew better than ask for them. I'd have liked toy cars, which came in reds and yellows and all the bright colors, but no one would give those to me, even though I did ask. Especially the track cars and trains.

To this day, I wouldn't know one car† from another unless it's beyond obvious -the difference between a little car and a pickup truck. I can, given enough time, identify a Honda Fit, because I've been driving one for 12 years, and know what to look for in a parking lot.

So, I came to the conclusion that my brain is inherently androgynous. Resistant to the cultural push in either direction.

I used to hate violence of any kind in movies, frightened me deeply. I found fighting repellent. As mentioned in earlier comments, the Sinbad movies a sort of nightmare for me in the theater. Fighting and gore and evil. I was terrified of my father's rage turning to violence, nothing about it was entertaining. Only in college, when I learned stage fighting, did I start to get it as a sort of dance. Appreciating it as a skill helped, I have to see it as choreography to enjoy it at any level. Even when it's puppets in stop motion, I can only admire the craft, never enjoy it for the violence. Never enjoyed hating the villain, I just hated them. Wasn't terribly fond of the Hero, either, too one dimensional. Or Heroine. Why root for the pretty one, just because Pretty? The side characters were more interesting.

Someone had left on Let's Make a Deal* at work, and we talked about costumes. I love wearing costumes. I don't like dressing up with the intention of looking nice and formal. You know how they say 's/he cleans up well'? Yeah, I don't. I look like a sausage wrapped in a bow when I try. A costume though, there are no rules, I don't have to look 'pretty', so I can do what I like. Cosplay delights me, even if I don't actually do it myself.

I'd love to wear Adam Savage's bear suit. Again, non-gendered.



Maybe I object to the sexing of my interests. Maybe my brain isn't hard wired in either direction. Maybe I just won't be pushed. At this stage, I have no way to know, the data too contaminated by time and experience. Maybe it's simply the gendering of things without genitalia bugs me.

The yin yang symbol works, but too often whole people are seen as belonging to just half of it. The female principle doesn't mean an actual woman, but that all people of whatever biology, are always both. No one is really male or female, it's all a mix. Like being left or right. In out. Up down. It's the imbalance that causes trouble.



Broken toe left, fasciitis right, taped according to need. Unbalanced.

†Suddenly remembered the aircraft recognition cards we were given when sent to GWI. Never could make nose or tail of them.
*Beats Faux news or loud sports.