I’m a Girl.

These boots are made for walkin’

“A girl is a person on a trampoline, not her own trampoline, but the neighbor’s. A girl is a person who laughs at things, and who might have a pink plastic umbrella.  A girl chooses to be a girl. It’s not about making tuna casserole for the boys, or joining some bobby socks bowling league. A girl can do anything she wants. She can even be a waitress or a secretary, but she has to have fun while she’s doing it. And if she wants, she’s got to be willing to make a paper airplane with her job description and sail it out the window. Above all, she’s her own person. A free person having fun. I guess that’s the point to being a true girl.”
Aurelie Sheehan from The ANXIETY of Everyday Objects.

I don’t know what the male equivalent to this would be. However I do know this to be true: I am a girl. Not to be confused with a girly-girl: which I am not.

No matter my age, I will always be a girl. The term woman has always felt odd in terms of self description. I’ve never called myself a woman, other than on paper. I admire the womanly women of this world, those who know how to use make-up, own matching bras and underwear, wear panty hoses and high heels. I love their sense of style and fashion, they always seem to have the right outfit for any task at hand.

I wear jeans and t-shirts. My favorite shoes are a clunky old pair of Fluevogs (men’s shoes) purchased in Edmonton Alberta for a share of my soul (most expensive pair of shoes I’ve ever owned). I giggle when inappropriate. I make fart jokes. I wear $5 jewelry. I have a small box of cool mementos (a Marie action figure race friends gave me, a hand made los muertos mermaid another friend made for me, a cotton handkerchief my dad brought me back from Belgium with a big M embroidered on it, my grandfather’s old leather passport carrier my mom gave me, various pins from events where I worked, a clown nose, a plastic mola fish from the same friend who made me the mermaid, etc. – but it’s the kind of collection a kid keeps in a safe place).

What about you? Are you a girl or a woman? And if you’re a guy, are you a male equivalent to a girl? And what would that be, somehow I don’t like the use of boy. You could be a dude…

What are you and did you simply stumble into it or make a clear choice as to what you wanted to become?

It’s Sunday. I wanted to offer you a simple post. This is one of the short pieces I wrote during my 78 consecutive hours of sailing. 

29 thoughts on “I’m a Girl.”

  1. Biologically, I’m a woman, of course. Emotionally, I fall much more into the category of a male–if we’re using gender stereotypes as a measuring stick. I couldn’t care less about fashion or gossip and I live in my jeans/workout pants, T-shirts and tennis shoes outside of work. I love sports and food and playing in the dirt in my garden. I’m rather stoic and unemotional with most things, but also deeply caring with others. I don’t enjoy pink.

    So I guess I’m a little of both, one by biological standards, the other by choice 😉


    1. It’s weird because up until I became a race car mechanic I HATED all that pink represented. Then our sponsor was Owens Corning (the insulation) and our mascot was the Pink Panther. Pink became cool – because it belonged to the coolest cat in the world. I love tomboys.


  2. Yep. Yes. Definitely. All of it. Exactly. The word “woman” chokes me up. Call me “ma’am” and expect to be laughed at, loudly and disrespectfully. I’ve not put makeup on my face in over a year. I used to wear it when I would have to go to formal Army balls, but I protested that practice a few months ago and wore my formal dress with no makeup and no pantyhose. I pretty much rocked. Although, I do have an underwear obsession. Victoria’s secret. All of it. Has to match. No one would ever know it to look at me, which I find a little funny. Maybe that’s why I do it. I’d rather eat cat food and live on the railroad tracks than have a job that required me to dress like a womanly woman. I have no desire to be a feminist, expend energy overcoming stereotypes or trying to break the “glass ceiling,” I just honestly do not give a shit. My “career” is flipping the rest of the world the bird and saying, “Get the fuck over yourself.” $5 jewelry? Oh hell yes. It’s the best kind! I haven’t worn my wedding ring in years. I lost it. But for some reason every single silly shell-slash-shark-tooth cheesy beach necklace I have ever owned I couldn’t lose if I tried. “Women and men have crossed the ocean, they now begin to pour, out from the boat and up the shore… two by two they enter the jungle and soon they number more, three by three, as well as four by four. Soon the stream of people gets wider, then it becomes a river, river becomes an ocean carrying ships that bear…. women and men….”


      1. Lol… No, just a completely random song that popped into my head, it’s called Women and Men by They Might Be Giants, some random shit about pointless procreation… Because that’s what women and men do. Girls on trampolines giggling at boys with fire trucks are much more exciting!


  3. I am a girl by gender but by all other standards i’m what my grandmother referred to as a Tomboy. Growing up with all males in a family taught me in order to be thought of as good or equal I had to do what the boys did and do it better.Tears and being girly was not tolerated so I learned to hide and be tough like a boy. As year progressed I desperately wanted to be a girly girl but soon realized I had no talent for it so now as an adult I’ve learned it’s okay to be me which means I’m half and half. I love going shopping and looking at pretty stuff but i’m way more comfortable barefooted in shorts and tank. i can bake, clean and be the perfect housewife then turn around the next seconds and be in the yard side by side with hubby helping to fix a lawn mower or car with grease up to me elbows.

    So by gender a girl but by choice a mix breed able to adapt and hide


  4. I will often refer to myself as a “short fat middle aged woman” but in my head I am always a “girl” I do not understand why some females get upset when called a “girl’………..I like panty hose, high healed shoes nice dresses and skirts and cheap jewerlly and jeans and joggers……………so I am big ole mixture…………


    1. Yeah! What’s the big deal? Being called a girl is like a compliment on your youthfulness.
      p.s. Hate is not big enough of a word to describe my feelings towards panty hoses.


  5. You know, I’ve never been a girly-girl. Ever. Not for lack of effort, either. I have always loved the idea of being groomed to perfection and smelling like flowers and hope.
    I just am no good at it, though.
    I love being a girl because I can wear dresses and things with no buttons or zippers. I love even more that I can be offended and pious at the suggestion that I should be “girlier.”

    I would be a terrible guy. It’s just as well that I am what I am.


  6. I am a blend of all your girl/girly-girl things. I can wear a backwards baseball hat and jeans and get dirty helping you haul boxes up and down stairs. And I can come in and shower, and put on the sexiest dress, make up my face and rock the sky-high heels. There are parts of me who are tomboy and there are parts of me who adore thongs. There’s a woman in me who will kick your head in if you think I can’t do something simply because I’m a woman, and there’s a part of me who gets turned on when my boyfriend looks at me like a sex object. I laugh my head off at potty humor, but adore literature. I’ve flirted my way out of getting a ticket. And I’ve fought against misogyny. I don’t think I made a choice to be this way. I think it’s just who I am.


    1. You’re like a character on Sex and the City! Very rawrrr. I wish I could wear high heels, but the closest I have to height in heels has 4 wheels (my roller skates – go derby!)


    1. I hear you on the laying in the back seat during a long car ride, I’d have to push you out if we ever travelled together. Sorry. Just the way it is. Don’t take it personally. Ha!


  7. I’ve been mulling this one ever since my stupid phone wouldn’t let me comment yesterday. I associate strongly with this definition of girl, but the word ‘girl’ is offputting for me. It carries overtones of sexism and childhood that I never wanted. I was never a child. Tomboy sort of implies someone who played boy games, and I didn’t. As a kid, I would have identified as a tomboy, but really, the boys didn’t want me either. I think that, as usual, I am impossible to classify. But you’ll be glad to know that this doesn’t surprise me.


    1. Heck. I played with Barbie dolls religiously until I finished grade school, but my Barbie played with my neighbor’s G.I.Joe. But to me being a tomboy just meant that I preferred riding a bike over learning to dance, or that frills and pink never entered my room, or that my knees were always covered in scrapes and band-aids… I don’t see girl as offensive, but then again I refuse to see any word as offensive, it helps me smile more. You were never a child? This makes me sad…


  8. Exceptional post but I was wanting to know if you could write a
    litte more on this topic? I’d be very grateful if you could elaborate a little bit more. Many thanks!


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