What is feminine essence? This phrase has lingered in my head for a couple of days and I would like to take the chance to say that femininity is something so unachievable and so insecure in terms of permanence. Especially in modern-day society where the female body is constantly being picked apart and forced to contort itself at every turn. Think cosmetic consumerism, the normalization of plastic surgery, and the sexualization of girls from a young age.

I do not bring these things into question as a means to invalidate the choices women make for their bodies, but there is such an expectation to look a certain way and to change with the times. What if I just want to feel normal with the nature of my body?

I have been a big girl all my life, this belly will probably follow me to hell. That being said, I have always been hyper aware of my appearance (probably started around 2nd grade) and how that is perceived by the world around me. I worried about the dark hair on my limbs, and the baby mustache that would create a shadow over my lip. I worried about not being girly enough, not being skinny enough to be popular like the white girls with their matching outfits and practically see-through body hair. I was always so jealous of their stupid see-through hair that only becomes so visible in the sun. If being fat and hairy wasn’t enough, god said “let there be chronic skin conditions that people will ask her about until they obtain social awareness in high school!” A simple “what’s that?” with a finger raised in my direction or “why is your skin like that?” It’s always the little comments that fuck you up the most. Why should I care what’s on my skin, bitch, we all used to be monkeys this should definitely be the least of anyone’s concerns. Since being taught to hate the way I look, I do my best to take care of myself on the surface. I can’t be fat with bad skin. I can’t be fat with crooked teeth. I can’t be fat and hairy. I can’t be fat and loud. I have to pick one struggle, cool. I remove my unwanted body hair on a schedule, I buy expensive skincare products, I fixed my teeth with braces a couple years ago, I even lost like 80lbs from– what I call short-lived pathetic ed (tw sorry) but I am still fat at this very moment because I gained every single pound and more back. There was a time I considered myself to have peak “female essence.” I was still a minor, severely depressed, and going through the brunt of my ed. Altogether my life was in shambles. I received so many compliments and male attention during this time, hell, I lost my damn virginity! Regardless, the hatred I had for myself was still very present and it comes back to bite me every now and then despite me being in a better place mentally and physically. Femininity is not my strongsuit because I just trick myself into thinking I don’t care about all these standards, I walk around in loose comfortable clothes that may not always be stylish, I let my body hair grow out to lengths longer than I care to admit, and I carry my stank face with me always. I preform and stun everyone with my laidback-ness and what appears to be an indifference to the moving and breathing world around me. Deep down I want to be a hairless mole rat, I wish my jean size wasn’t catching up to my age, I wish I had a smaller nose, plumper lips, a smaller jaw, bigger breasts, thicker hair (only on my head)– I want all the things society has so cruelly made me want. Nobody can tell me I don’t know how to be a woman nor can anyone define womanliness because I have done and am doing the things for societies sake. This is the female essence, hating yourself into a corner until you come back and reject it all. I am nothing if not a wounded child.