I am the younger of two children, having an older brother. From what my mother told me, her and my father waited for our births to find out our sexes. After I was born, the obstetrician told my mother, "you got what you wanted!"
Here I was all new and pink. My mom's new little girl. I wonder if that day over 35 years ago, my mother had known she really got a rough and tumble tomboy. I loved sports, played in the mud, and climbed trees. As a matter of fact, I still do these things. In high school, I embraced the black, baggy uniform of a teen punk complete with army issue combat boots or my ox blood Doc's. As a 20-something bartender/industrial club goer overalls and boots were very convenient. Heck, I was not going out to meet guys, I was going to dance hard and hang out with my friends. (Oddly enough, this "aloof" attitude got me hit on a lot back then.)
Despite all this, I know there is a feminine, graceful woman inside this shell that prefers hikes to beaches and umbrella drinks. This weekend I tried an experiment: Girly Clothes.
Dresses, newly acquired and flowery. And not because I had a dress up occasion. Just because I wanted to wear them. To my surprise, it felt nice. So much so, I want to dress this way more often. And I think I will.
Mind you, I will need to keep a change of clothing with me at all times, because you never know when I might come across a good climbing tree. And really, a lady would not moon the neighborhood.