Feminine?

Feminine - it brings to mind the color pink, flowers, lace, bows, and perfume. It brings to mind perfectly manicured nails, every hair in place, pouty lips and a slight sense of helplessness. Small figured woman with small bones that wear small dresses, small jewelry, and small shoes. It makes you think of the perfect little wife who bakes cookies and has dinner on the table for her husband and children every day promptly at six. Non-argumentative, a bit on the helpless side, unable to make decisions, and always needing a man to take care of her because she’s so delicate, so, um, so feminine. Yeah right. Not in my world.

I am about 5 feet, seven and a half inches tall. I am big boned and I’ve got some big meat wrapped around those big bones. I was the oldest, so I was daddy’s “boy”. While other little girls were having sleep-overs and playing dress up, I was going hunting and fishing with daddy. While the other girls were playing with their tea sets and Barbie dolls, I was playing full contact tackle football with the sons of my dad’s friends. When my mother took me shopping for my first bra, I was hysterical! I had the idea that with the sudden growth of the new bumps on my chest, I would no longer be able to go hunting because I wouldn’t be able to shoot. The new bumps would get in the way. Daddy had to tell me that they would be no problem. I was alright after that.

In my growing up, my mother did her very best to teach me all the things a young lady should know. At the time, I thought it was pretty boring, but I am thankful that I know which fork goes with which course and how to set a formal dinner table; I can attend a formal tea and not feel like an idiot. I know which stemware is for white wine and which one for red. She taught me how to speak, how to dress, sit, stand and walk like a young lady should. It just seemed funny at the time with my skinned elbows, ripped jeans and hair flying.

At age nineteen, I married and began a family. My choice of husband was all wrong. I wound up having to be the man in the family. He seemed to have a medical problem – he was allergic to working, so I was the breadwinner. I made the money and he spent it. I made all the major purchase decisions until he learned he could use my credit and get things in his name. Things like a motorcycle and a credit card. The card was maxed out in less than a month and he lost the motorcycle after our divorce. Luckily, I didn’t have to pay for either.

Jobs that I have over the years are varied, and not much is feminine about them. Ok, so maybe being a waitress is a feminine job, but a landscaper? Not so much. Neither is managing a pawn shop, which I loved. I had a bit of trouble when I first started at the pawn shop though. Seems the men folks just didn’t think a female had any sense or knowledge when it came to firearms and tools. Once they learned that indeed, I did know, they began to trust me, coming to me quite often for advice on their firearms, or asking which brand of tool was the best in my opinion. I was also a lead sawyer for wood mill. I ran a commercial gang saw and pulled, lifted, cut, loaded, and stacked lumber weighing more than I did, and had a ball. Definitely not a feminine job – splinters makes for some rough hands.

My husband now is so much different than my first one. He actually works! When he and I got together, I was working at a large chain bookstore. The managers were just kids and behaved as such. When the store closed at eleven pm, it was often two am before we got out of there. I had reached the age where two am is WAY past my bedtime, and I was quite dissatisfied. When I told my husband about it, his reply was to quit. I told him I planned on it as soon as I had something else lined up. He said no, just quit and stay home, so I did. For the first few weeks, I was lost. I had no idea what to do with my time as I had no routine to fall back on. It didn’t take me long to learn. I discovered it was nice to have the house clean, the laundry done and a meal on the table when he got home from work. It was nice to have the time to visit with my family and friends. I was married, but I had more freedom. I was a housewife for the first time in my life. It’s the most feminine job I have ever had.

As for feminine looks, I’ve never had the skin for make-up. It just makes me break out, so I wear it very seldom. My hair is long, which could be considered the only feminine trait I have other than in the boobs department. I don’t have long nails. I have large hands that are rough from working. Sure, I can dress the feminine part, do the whole heels and hose thing as I call it, but I’m more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt. I only wear earrings when I think about it, a necklace very seldom, my wedding ring, a small sapphire ring I bought myself from the pawn shop, and a large turquoise ring that actually belongs to my son. Nope, there’s nothing feminine about my everyday looks.

I am a wife and a mother. I am a lover to my husband. I think I am a good daughter and a decent sister. I am argumentative when I feel it’s needed, and I am not helpless in any way. I don’t do lace and frills or waste time in front of the mirror doing my hair and make-up. I still go hunting and fishing and I drive a 4 wheel drive standard shift Jeep.

Ok, so I’m not a poster child for feminine. I am a no nonsense, 100% self sufficient, tough, able to handle anything and keep on going Woman. I wouldn’t change a thing. Being considered feminine? I think it’s overrated!