as I walk

the journey to becoming me

I’m a girl

I’ve had a realization.  I’m a girl.  I know – baffling.  It’s not as if I’ve felt like I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body or anything like that, just that… that God somehow made a mistake.  That originally I was going to be this guy, but He changed His mind last-minute.  Or that He didn’t give me enough of the right or good things to make me be normal.  I usually classify myself as a chick.  Woman just feels so far away from me.  It doesn’t feel safe.  It doesn’t feel comfortable.  It feels scary and foreign.  In the same breath though, being mistaken for a guy feels worse.  I remember being in 5th grade and getting a terrible haircut.  Some lady at a store called me sir.  Really?  A 5th grade girl being called sir?  That feels way worse than being identified as a woman now that I think about it.
The past few days I’ve found myself actually saying out loud I hate being a girl.  Wait, what?  Yeah.  So, I didn’t know that misogyny even a part of this struggle, journey, issue, brokenness, etc.  Granted, there were very specific reasons for those comments (which I won’t go into here), but it still amazed me that those words came out.  Maybe there’s more to it than I originally thought.
This afternoon I watched an X Men movie.  The worst part of the movie was that Wolverine was only in there as a cameo for about 3 seconds.  The best part was that Wolverine was in there for a cameo for 3 seconds.  That is when it hit me.  I’m a girl. Just saying (or in this case typing) “Wolverine” gives me this kind of shy goofy smile.  There’s something in me, in my core, that is all girl.  I like seeing big strong men (with great sideburns) fight.  I like that feeling of knowing (Wolverine would so be on my side) that they’d protect me if the situation warranted it.  Okay fine, the man is downright hot.  There, I said it.
I see that God didn’t make a mistake with me and my gender.  I just happen to live in an effed up world.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to wear skirts.  I still like men’s jeans, sweaters, and flannels, but I want to look good in them (as good as a chick can look in guy’s clothing).  Maybe some day I’ll get to that point I’ve written about so many times, of wearing actual women’s clothing and being comfortable in my own skin.  Right now, I think I just need to be excited about the victory of enjoying those girl moments while seeing Wolverine.

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