Un-Vague-ing
May. 25th, 2011 09:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eumeliaApologies for the vague post yesterday, I had many thoughts running around my brain and I really needed to jot down a reminder that they should exorcised at some point.
I have a terrible poker face, or maybe I'm just surrounded by people who know me well enough to read my facial expressions and body language.
On Monday I had a full on neurotic crisis, of such that I called a friend to talk to her about it for 15 minutes, basically repeating myself ad nauseam regarding how terrible I felt when in fact it was my own internalised views of society that made me feel terrible.
For you see, I was once again hairy in public. But unlike last time, where I was surrounded by friends and affiliates, who are all freaky geeks, geeky freaks and allies, I felt relatively safe from judgment and societal pressure. I mean, we were flirting with each other and it's only our playful mindedness (and lack of booze in some cases, I suspect) that stops these gatherings from becoming full on orgies (which they already are of the intellectual/nerdtastic kind - my friends are awesome!).
Any way, this time was less fun, as it caused me, as mentioned, a great deal of stress and I very nearly burst into tears if I hadn't been laughing hysterically at my own shame.
Every so often, the university campus has clothes stands (only women's clothes, men who want to buy cheap can't do so with these stands) and being that I want to wear more dresses I thought this would be a good opportunity to get some pretty, but not very expensive, dresses.
Boy, was I wrong.
I keep forgetting that I'm really not good at shopping, especially on my own. I usually go with my mom, who is really good at telling me what suits my figure and what doesn't while not being overly judgmental regarding style (which mine differs from hers greatly, so it can backfire at times). But going with anyone who can give me an outside voice as to what I look like is good, especially if they don't care what the clothes look like, but what I look like in the clothes.
I didn't have that this time. There was only me and the voices in my mind telling me the following:
My ass looks huge.
My breasts look droopy.
Everyone can see my hair!
Cue me dressing back into my sensible jeans and t-shirt and running (I walked very swiftly) away from all the feminine clothes which were mocking me for my audacity to even go near them while everyone could see my hair
The societal shame of daring to be feminine sans all the trappings of what goes with it in the cultural ideal hit me like a tonne of bricks. Rare are the instances in which the feeling of shame and actually failing to be who I supposed to be cut through me like that. I am the grrl who is in your face. I am the grrl who will tell you to STFU if you spout sexism, homophobia, racism and bigotry of every kind.
This time, my internalised taboo smacked me across the face. Hard.
As you can see, I am still reeling. I have already told a few people of what I felt during that incident, because I try to externalise my shame (talking and writing are the best things ever) and apparently I'm pretty funny, when talking about it. But I feel is also calls for a more serious discussion and how, through no fault of my own, did I fail at being as feminine as I wanted to be.
It was a queer moment, I felt as though I had been expelled from a facet of my gender. My gender which never felt dysmorphic to me and didn't feel that way now, but the feeling of failure it was. It still is.
On top of all that, and this actually puts thing into perspective, kind of; I am finishing my BA in Literary Theory and Women & Gender Studies, and my Future is Now! I am in a very unstable place regarding how I feel about where I think I should go and I (don't know what) want to do, which is no doubt, affecting my emotional reactions to things that really, are on no consequence.
Also, my LJ and DW accounts are expiring in the next week or so! Which makes me sad-ish.
But hey, yesterday a lecturer of mine asked my opinion regarding a course she's making up for the New Students who will have the privilege of studying Women & Gender Studies and that made me feel awesome. Especially because I told her to check out Henry Jenkins and The Society of Friends of the Text, because fan interpretations deserve to be taught in Academia.
I have a terrible poker face, or maybe I'm just surrounded by people who know me well enough to read my facial expressions and body language.
On Monday I had a full on neurotic crisis, of such that I called a friend to talk to her about it for 15 minutes, basically repeating myself ad nauseam regarding how terrible I felt when in fact it was my own internalised views of society that made me feel terrible.
For you see, I was once again hairy in public. But unlike last time, where I was surrounded by friends and affiliates, who are all freaky geeks, geeky freaks and allies, I felt relatively safe from judgment and societal pressure. I mean, we were flirting with each other and it's only our playful mindedness (and lack of booze in some cases, I suspect) that stops these gatherings from becoming full on orgies (which they already are of the intellectual/nerdtastic kind - my friends are awesome!).
Any way, this time was less fun, as it caused me, as mentioned, a great deal of stress and I very nearly burst into tears if I hadn't been laughing hysterically at my own shame.
Every so often, the university campus has clothes stands (only women's clothes, men who want to buy cheap can't do so with these stands) and being that I want to wear more dresses I thought this would be a good opportunity to get some pretty, but not very expensive, dresses.
Boy, was I wrong.
I keep forgetting that I'm really not good at shopping, especially on my own. I usually go with my mom, who is really good at telling me what suits my figure and what doesn't while not being overly judgmental regarding style (which mine differs from hers greatly, so it can backfire at times). But going with anyone who can give me an outside voice as to what I look like is good, especially if they don't care what the clothes look like, but what I look like in the clothes.
I didn't have that this time. There was only me and the voices in my mind telling me the following:
My ass looks huge.
My breasts look droopy.
Everyone can see my hair!
Cue me dressing back into my sensible jeans and t-shirt and running (I walked very swiftly) away from all the feminine clothes which were mocking me for my audacity to even go near them while everyone could see my hair
The societal shame of daring to be feminine sans all the trappings of what goes with it in the cultural ideal hit me like a tonne of bricks. Rare are the instances in which the feeling of shame and actually failing to be who I supposed to be cut through me like that. I am the grrl who is in your face. I am the grrl who will tell you to STFU if you spout sexism, homophobia, racism and bigotry of every kind.
This time, my internalised taboo smacked me across the face. Hard.
As you can see, I am still reeling. I have already told a few people of what I felt during that incident, because I try to externalise my shame (talking and writing are the best things ever) and apparently I'm pretty funny, when talking about it. But I feel is also calls for a more serious discussion and how, through no fault of my own, did I fail at being as feminine as I wanted to be.
It was a queer moment, I felt as though I had been expelled from a facet of my gender. My gender which never felt dysmorphic to me and didn't feel that way now, but the feeling of failure it was. It still is.
On top of all that, and this actually puts thing into perspective, kind of; I am finishing my BA in Literary Theory and Women & Gender Studies, and my Future is Now! I am in a very unstable place regarding how I feel about where I think I should go and I (don't know what) want to do, which is no doubt, affecting my emotional reactions to things that really, are on no consequence.
Also, my LJ and DW accounts are expiring in the next week or so! Which makes me sad-ish.
But hey, yesterday a lecturer of mine asked my opinion regarding a course she's making up for the New Students who will have the privilege of studying Women & Gender Studies and that made me feel awesome. Especially because I told her to check out Henry Jenkins and The Society of Friends of the Text, because fan interpretations deserve to be taught in Academia.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-25 09:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:54 am (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2011-05-25 01:03 pm (UTC)I want to tell you that this battle will get easier, but I can't promise that.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:55 am (UTC)Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-25 05:54 pm (UTC)As for societal taboo, there are some things that take a little more digging to unseat. Especially those things that are drilled into us from our birth.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-26 11:56 am (UTC)No doubt, the feelings that engulfed were immense.