How many things that you do can you explain simply by saying:
It’s because I’m a woman
It’s because I’m a man
It’s because I’m French
It’s because I’m a Northerner
It’s because I’m a Leo
It’s because I’m an Aries rising
It’s because I’m an Empath
It’s because I’m an Introvert
It’s because I’m an INFJ
It’s because I’m a Weirdo
It’s because I’m a member of the Dark Side
It’s because I’m a Pro-crastinator
It’s because I’m a doctor and you can trust me
It’s because I’m a born on a hill type of person
It’s because I’m a human… if I was an alien I wouldn’t do that at all.
I was thinking about this because my partner recently came back from a visit to one of our neighbours and announced that our neighbour had a lady in his life and that lady was very pregnant, and while our neighbour was incredibly happy to be in love and with a baby on the way, he was griping because his lady love was throwing out all of his possessions which were treasures for him but for her they were clutter.
He appealed to my partner for moral support, as members of the man club.
Moral support in the man club is something along the lines of – poor you, you’re in love with a woman and let her into your life and home, you’re fucked, get used to it and get a storage shed with a hefty lock on it where you can hide your treasures, they won’t clutter her space which is everywhere except that shed which is your space now (she will try to get in there, to snoop around, and throw everything out which is why you need a hefty lock).
That story made me laugh and cringe at the same time because I did something similar when I moved in with my partner. I got rid of a bunch of stuff of his. I did ask him before I did it but he wasn’t listening, and I didn’t realise that his nods were distracted-pretend-you’re-listening nods. Later on he regretted not having listened and I regretted very much clearing out his ‘clutter’… because it was precious to him, and I didn’t realise how precious those things were to him. I was an insensitive, invasive, jerk who thought I was being a righteous bringer of tidiness to mess.
Ah, the lies we tell ourselves to make what we do a good thing, and blind ourselves to the optional scenario where what we’re doing might be a bad thing.
Thinking about what I’d done and what my neighbour’s lady love was doing made me wonder – Is this something females do?
I thought it was just something I did because of the sum of experiences I’d had in my life up until then which included regular clear outs of ‘clutter’ (my mother used to do it to my stuff when I was a child, she’d barge into my room, throw everything on the floor, then after screaming for a bit, crying a bit, lecturing me a long bit, she’d scoop it all up into a box and give it to charity, and later on it became something I did to my stuff – my goal was spartan minimalism… which is a rather Virgo rising, Virgo Moon, with Pluto in Virgo in the 1st house, thing)… but apparently I’m not such a special jerk of a snowflake, there are other special jerky snowflakes out there too and… maybe being a special jerky snowflake is a female thing?
I suppose the clear out of clutter could be part of nesting. Is nesting a thing only women do? Do men do nesting?
That led me to thinking about other things which I do because I’m a woman.
The easy ones are:
Sitting down to pee.
Wearing a bra (although I don’t do that often because I’m the itty bitty titty type and our type can get away with not wearing those torture devices). Having to wear a top in Summer, when sunbathing (I did partly grow up in Italy where it’s not obligatory, but I also spent time in places where it was – I go with covering up because you never know who is watching and what your nakedness means for them).
Bleeding uncontrollably once a month for several days (OMG, have you seen those adverts for period-proof panties… has anyone tried them? WTF do they do to stop the flow? Are they hermetically sealed and when you take them off… sploosh… reminds me of Billy Connelly’s disco pee pants) and having to pretend that you’re not feeling like your guts are trying to escape your body through your vagina while socialising with people who would be embarrassed if you mentioned your period, and in their embarrassment they would probably say something stupid and hate you for being the cause of them saying something stupid which will now haunt them for years.
Painting your face as part of your daily ritual (also not something I bother doing that often because it’s a faff. I sometimes do my eyes but as the hours pass I end up looking like a racoon, panda, or as though someone punched me in both eyes. Lipstick is a Sisyphean task. And when your face is a chaos of freckles like mine things like foundation look ridiculous… and make me want to claw my face off).
Being paranoid about being a female. Being paranoid because you’re female. And everything which comes with that.
I really can’t think of anything that I do which I would consider being because I am a woman.
But maybe almost everything or perhaps everything I do is because I’m a woman?
I have to admit that I was very late to the game of thinking of my gender as a part of my identity. I kind of thought of being female as a fact which wasn’t all that interesting and which came with a few rather annoying factors:
like the period… which my mother used to refer to as The Curse.
like certain types of men thinking that because you’re a female…
like certain types of women thinking that because you’re a female…
like society making assumptions about you as an individual because you’re female…
I tend to use – I do the things I do because I’m batshit crazy – most often as it covers a lot, explains a lot (while explaining absolutely nothing), and people like it as a reason, it doesn’t threaten them (even though if I am batshit crazy…) and their identity stuff, thus they tend to accept it more readily than other things and everyone can relax after that.
Over to you…
What’s your most used because I am reason for the things you do?
Do you really think that’s why you do what you do?