Marley Kalt

During our childhood we are taught who we’re supposed to be, rather than learning who we are.  Specifically, I’m talking about gender roles.  Men act one way and women are the opposite. In a shared culture we learn these stereotypes, understand them, and use them as guidelines against which we match ourselves up, whether it’s to gauge how well we follow the “rules” or how we know if we’re breaking them.

 

The first time I remember being conscious of my gender expression was in second grade.  I feared being taunted and excluded like the one “tomboy” in our class, who received this treatment simply because she had short hair and liked to play Frisbee at recess, which usually meant being with the boys.

 

Watching her, I always felt that I needed to prove myself as being different.  I needed to prove that I still fit in with the girls.

 

I stopped wearing blue jeans in favor of dresses and skirts.  I kept my hair long.  I made sure the color pink featured prominently in my life.  It was everywhere – my clothes, my glasses frames, I even insisted on my entire bedroom being painted in two “girly” shades.

 

I screamed at the tiniest bugs, cried if I got a small scrape or bruise, and avoided sitting in the grass or dirt.

 

And it worked.

 

A “girly girl” was who I was supposed to be, so that is who I became.  And it’s who I am today.

 

Just to be clear, I do not feel as though I am acting against my true identity.  I am a female who likes pink, hates sports, and is always ready for a good cry over a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Red Velvet Cake.  I have embraced every part of who I am, whether it’s a stereotype or not.

 

But I often wonder how I would be different without all the pressure to conform.

 

Sometimes, I sit slouched in my chair, ankle resting atop the opposite knee.  At times, I have been called a man for sitting like this.  If, when I was younger, I did not feel the need to expel any association with the opposite gender, would this “manliness” have crept into larger aspects of my life?

 

These gender-expression thoughts go far beyond my posture.  My constant worrying about how others would perceive me had potentially larger implications.

 

I shied away from playing sports.  I wrote off trying to learn math or science.  I put myself on a path of limited choices.

 

I often wonder would have happened if I let myself try such different, “masculine” activities?  Could I be the next great Olympic champion?  Or become a world-famous engineer?  Would I still be a writer?  Would I be my current self at all?  Have I failed to reach my full potential because I was too caught up with being a girl?

 

I will probably never know, but that does not mean I have to accept things as they are.  So for now, I’ll keep trying new things and continuing to do what I love, regardless of whether I’m acting like a “girl.”