Being a Woman

I was born a woman in the early winter of 1985.
When I was born, 31 days earlier than planned, I had no idea about the difference between men and women. I had no idea that there were distinctions between people, or even that there were other people outside my little world.

Years later, I learned that I am a girl.
I learned that I was supposed to wear pink and frills and skirts.
I learned that girls are quiet and kind and generous.
I learned that girls don't ask questions, girls are not curious.
I learned that there's such a thing as too much imagination.
I learned that girls don't climb trees or play among rocks or ride bikes dressed in panties and a too-long t-shirt.

But, you know what?

Not even once did people ask me what I thought about being a girl. Their definition was supposed to be enough.

It isn't. My definition of being a woman like me is my own. My definition of me is my own, and all that applies to me.

I am strong.
I am independent.
I am shy and introverted.
I get anxious among other people and I am a social person.

I was born a girl and I identify as female.

I can be rough and be a woman.
I can be feminine and be a woman.
I can be wild and fearless, kind and giving, and be a woman.
I can curse and rant and throw a tantrum, and I am still a woman.

I am smart. Being me is enough for me.

I am beautiful. I am willful. I am curious.

I am a woman. My definition of being a woman.