I dropped my big girls off at dance class today for the first time, and it was a whole thing. A room full of little girls and in buns and pigtails and ponytails. Dresses and skirts with all the sparkle and flow.
In previous years, I would have sort of scoffed at this. I’d have had thoughts like oh I don’t know if my girls belong here… they’re not really girlie girls.
And I would’ve been proud of that.
Because the truth is that in the past I saw femininity and things associated with girls and women as inferior. I wouldn’t have said that—I didn’t even recognize it at the time. But I absolutely did.
I saw cooking and recipe-sharing and other traditional work of women as beneath me. I thought girls who cared a lot about their appearances were cringe and probably dumb (I was more into my brain than my body). I was going to be an at-home parent but “in a feminist way.” I proudly dressed my firstborn in all gender-neutral clothes.
Now I have three girls. They’re all obsessed with pink and twirly dresses, much of their imaginative play involves caretaking, and they’re very into paying attention to their physical appearance. I didn’t push any of these things with them.
Lol @me.
My girls are also not stereotypically feminine in some ways. They play soccer and hockey, and they are generally very active and physical (my mom sometimes says “They’re like little boys!). Alice likes math more than reading, and Clare is obsessed with playing in the mud.
They contain multitudes, of course, like we all do. But I do see in them a natural and easy embracing of femininity. They haven’t absorbed any ideas that might make them shy away from certain things as adult women. They’re just being who they are.
Last September, I went with them (and my grandmother) to a mother-daughter tea party put on by the nuns of our local diocese. The feminine energy was off the chain: there was tea-drinking in delicate cups and saucers, bubble-blowing on homemade quilts on the lawn, and a station where you could get your hair done, including glitter spray to top it off. There was also flower-arranging with gorgeous choose-your-own vases and princess crown-decorating. They loved it so much.
And so did I. It was a truly lovely way to spend an afternoon—in the company of 100+ other women, doing beautiful, creative things.
The me in my 20s would have scoffed at this event. I wouldn’t have considered attending (well, I wouldn’t have, because I didn’t have kids). “That’s not me,” I would have said, and what I would have meant is I’m better than women who like fluffy, frilly, un-serious things like that.
To be clear, I’m still not an overly feminine woman. I’ve always been a tomboy, even before I took on the identity of feminist. I have a more direct, rational way of being than many women. I find spending time on my appearance very, very boring.
But I don’t have the disdain I used to have for things traditionally associated with girls and women.
Pink doesn’t trigger me anymore (it’s actually such a gorgeous color!), and I don’t see things like beauty or emotion or homemaking as less interesting or valuable or worthy of my time and attention. In fact, I’ve realized that I actually desire to be a more feminine woman. I love who I am, in general, and also, I’d like more feminine energy in my life. I know I can do anything boys can do; I get it. Now, I’d like more of what women can do.
I wrote this on Instagram the night of that tea party a year ago:
I spent almost 40 years believing women aren’t as good as men. I wouldn’t have said it like that, but anything I associated with women (like dresses or pink or housework or needing help or motherhood) I saw as less than: less interesting, less powerful, definitely less desirable.
Then I gave birth and breastfed and did the daily work of tending to human beings. And worked on my marriage. And learned about my cycle. And found Mother Mary.
Now I get that I’ve been missing out. Being a woman and embodying femininity is amazing. I’ve never felt more myself, and I’ve never been so deeply happy.
If you need me I’ll be over here making up for lost time.
That might sound a little extreme, and maybe it is—it was written for the ‘gram, after all. But truly, becoming a mother and having daughters has helped me understand and value femininity. I love beauty, I love caretaking, I love creating. Even as a not-overly-naturally-feminine woman, all of these things do very much fill my soul, and I’m not afraid to admit it. And I want some more.
I know I can do anything boys can do; I get it. Now, I’d like more of what women can do.
Am I saying all women are or should be the same? I hope you know I’m not. But I do believe that our feminine souls, generally, resonate with certain things. And I’m done acting like those things are embarrassing or less than. My daughters are watching. It’s a no for me.
This isn’t about prescription; it’s about freedom to let girls and women be. (Isn’t that what feminism is all about?)
“It’s a no-brainer,” my husband said tonight after listening to the girls excitedly describe their class and demonstrate some of their new moves. He was hesitant about signing up for this new activity, and I was a little bit, too. But the joy in their faces after an hour of dance with other girls was undeniable.
And so, so beautiful.
Do you see this bias in our culture? How have you experienced or thought of traditionally/stereotypically feminine things? Love to hear your thoughts, always.
Who among us hasn’t had a “not like other girls” phase? 🤣
I never rejected femininity (I’ve always like pretty clothes and dancing and crafts) but I remember having a vague idea that it was better to raise girls more “gender neutral.” Similar to your experience, that mostly went by the wayside once I had real daughters. Both of mine were about 18 months when they developed opinions about what they liked to wear. I tease them that I am going to dress them up like I did my dollies, but it’s funny exactly because they have exactly none of it. They went through the nothing-but-pink-and-princesses stage and out the other end of it, no harm done.
The other thing that motherhood does is put things in perspective. Little girls loving pink tulle and tea parties is not a serious social issue, full stop.
Not that I’m entirely sanguine about the modeling of social roles. I think commercial toys and electronic games and their marketing can take femininity to an absurd extreme. If it’s not harmful it’s at best ridiculous. I hope I am providing enough opportunity for the girls to experience that messiness of real life, not some rarified vision of it put out to market toys or entertainment.