I am a female, and have always identified with being female. Females are pretty, soft, and typically more sensitive than males. We are also potentially mothers and wives. It is in our nature to be more domestic than men. We are supposed to be more prone to nurturing than men. This is the impression of a female that I grew up with. Even the text book offers a similar idea of what feminine is and what real women are supposed to be. The quoted other sources and came up with these ideas:
“…To be feminine is to be physically attractive, deferential, emotionally expressive, nurturing, and concerned with people and relationships. (Spence & Buckner, 2000.)
“…Real women” still look good, adore children, and care about homemaking…” (Greenfield, 1997: Kerr, 1997, 1999).
I’ve grown accustomed to these ideas of what a woman is. I generally accept them.
Part of what I see as woman isn’t that simple. I have never wondered if I was anything other than a woman, but I don’t identify with a lot of things women typically do. I don’t carry a purse. As far as I’m concerned my Levi’s have five pockets, why carry something I can lose? I don’t get my nails done. In fact, I’ve had two professional manicures in my entire life. I don’t wear nail color and I’ve never had acrylics. I don’t follow any particular beauty regiment. I’m not “girlish” at all.
I always say that growing up my father raised me under the hood of his truck. I saw the way my mom was, she taught me to cook and clean, and do girl stuff. However, the majority of any parental time was with my dad. I was his first born and did all of his chores around the house with him. Yard work, wood work, automotive repairs, fixing bikes, killing bugs, and catching scorpions are the things I remember most vividly about childhood. In school, I never did the sissy push-ups for girls. I was...