I had to clean up the language in this one in a major way.
I'm 100% Girly Girl . . . But I'll Eat You for Lunch
Pedicured toes? Check. Manicured fingers? Check. Slightly edgy,well-maintained hair? Check. Makeup? Check. Chick magazine? Check.
Yes, my sailor-like tongue spews curse words at the speed of light. I can drink a 6'7" motherfr under the table. I like to talk about cars, I love golf, cycling, working out, and just plain getting dirty. I hold contempt for most things pink and I refuse to use cutesy grammar and punctuation in IMs; I also have a hard time connecting with other women. But I'm finally overcoming a lot of that; I'm finally learning that it's ok to be both a tomboy and a sissy. The ultrafeminine woman that was lurking beneath the shorts and t-shirts has finally emerged, and she's rocking those pedicured toes and a short skirt with some nice tanned legs. (Hey, guess what? The tan is fake. Skin cancer is soooo 1980.)
It may sound a bit superficial when put that way, but the psychology of it works something like this: every woman needs her femininity to be nurtured, and that means something different for all of us. Some of us need to be encouraged to put on some makeup every now and then; others need to be allowed to grow stronger relationships with other women. Others need to embrace their need to nurture and support others. For me, it was a combination of the first two along with the opposite of the second: I needed to encourage my inner girly girl, grow stronger relationships with other women, be able to pamper and take care of myself, to learn to have time for me and allow others to spoil me. And taking care of myself has been a long and tedious process: everything from using better skincare products to styling my hair differently to working out more to losing weight to taking time to relax to going to school full time to taking a job with less stress.
I don't mind crying or taking more than 6 minutes to do my hair now. It's all part of who I am. And I can promise one thing: soft as I my be, I'm never going to let anyone hold me down ever again.
Just 'cause I'm prettier doesn't mean I'm any less dangerous: if anything, I'm even more lethal than I was before. I'll still tell you to f off and die in heartbeat - other women still sneer at my manlike ability to belly up to a bar with the boys and talk about tits. You could still catch me at a strip club with the guys, and I still know how to belch like a champ. But I'm not going to kowtow to your purported masculinity and let you pretend you're smarter than me just to stroke your fragile ego. Be a man! Be confident - grow some nuts and learn not to depend on the opposite sex for your sense of worth. I had to do it - you should, too.
If you want a girl who you have to take to dinner and pay for her beauty treatments and completely support in exchange for housework, don't even come preaching at me. I don't give a shit what you give me - I'm not going to cook you dinner and I'm not going to do your dishes. I don't have to have a baby or baby a man to be a worthwhile, valid woman.
So, I may be prettier, but I'll still eat you for lunch.