I am a daddy’s girl. When I was younger I liked to go with him into houses on weekends where he would do electrical work. While he was in the ceiling or on a light post I was on the ground passing tools to him even before he asked for them and if I came back home clean and spotless that was a fail for me. I hoped to have more qualities from my father than my mother (not because I love my mother any less) only because I was and still am, a daddy’s girl. I liked going with him rather than playing with dolls or learning cheers. In fact, every doll I had I cut her hair, stripped her dress and marked her body with ink, giving her a new birth.
Maybe this sounds like the intro to: …and now this is my ‘coming out’ story. But no. I am just a tomboy. Even now still. Today’s society tells me the opposite though and if I did not have my head on my shoulders, this article would probably be a very different one.
I am yet to grow into wanting to wear heels instead of sneakers; I generally respect more males that I do females; I look for friends instead of boyfriends; make-up does not interest me, I liken it to heart surgery… and it has always been this way. I still wait patiently for my late maturity into womanhood or whatever but some people have me all figured out already, it seems.
It’s great that we are more open to gender identities: lesbians, gays, transgenders, bisexuals and queers have organizations that stand up for them and we are more tolerant than dismissive more than ever before however, there is a drawback. When there are so many identities and lifestyles people feel the need to define you early.
Back in April there was a New York Times article entitled, “My Daughter Is Not Transgender. She’s a Tomboy,” where a father comes to the defense of his 7 year-old daughter who most mistake for a boy. Too often he’s had to handle people’s confusion. He writes:
“I just wanted to check,” the teacher said. “Your child wants to be called a boy, right? Or is she a boy that wants to be called a girl? Which is it again?”…While celebrating the diversity of sexual and gender identities, we also need to celebrate tomboys and other girls who fall outside the narrow confines of gender roles.
The common consensus I have seen is because I do not behave like a girl therefore I am something else. Too many labels. Too much impatience. And one consequence of impatience is that one may end up like Snoop (from HBO’s The Wire) who was a tomboy until she was ‘turnt out’ by her uncle. Unreal.
On top of the labels are fear masquerading as values, and hypocrisy. It seems gone are the days when if a male wore a bright pretty pink shirt, people joked about it and moved on, maybe gone are the days too when a girl could wear a big shirt and hammer pants and not get double takes. Now apparently that type of ‘behaviour’ advertises your sexual orientation (yes, but not all the time) and may even create aggression/hostility and rejection. I see a trend were face value is taken so seriously it breeds ignorance. Example, some males won’t eat fish (transpose fish for bag juice if you wish) in public because people will believe that they are a ‘fish’/gay. Who endorses this sh!t?
On the other end of the scale are those who commercialize this ‘new’ sexuality. I see that pretending to be someone who you are not– females wearing boxers for show, males wearing makeup– and even going as far to create stories to add to the fake brand, just to seem more interesting, because mystery is good for business. No. It is an insult. If you ever feel that strong a need to pretend to be somebody else then you should not have been born in the first place.
People ask who they are a lot. I look to my parents for that answer even though they wanted me, still want me, to be more like my sister. Daddy did not like me coming with him even though he never said it in so many words– “why you do that to the dolly?”– he was still hoping I would get over the phase. He is still hoping. But even for him, this daddy’s girl is not going to rush into ‘womanhood’ because it’s the thing to do, I am not going to humour the jokes that my mind is telling me that I am one thing because of the clothes I wear. Bullsh!t. And listen, I may very well be queer or what ever else but best believe I am ‘coming out’ when God says that I am ready, not when man does. And based on how I think He works, that day will never come. — Bless.
[cover art by: Russ Mills]