Like a Man

I have been told by far too many people that I behave like a man, drive like a man, act like a man. I still wonder what fuels these comments, because I have questioned myself more than once.

Is it the easy, breezy way I talk when I am with people I am familiar with?
Is it my interest in playing and sporting, like table tennis?
Is it the independence that rises in me whenever I see I do not have any level of support?
Is it my ability to sort myself out and go to the mechanic when I need to, simply because I do not have anyone to help me?
Is it the need to check my radiator water level, or the need to know how to manage my house and myself?

What exactly is it about me that makes people say I act like a man?

Is it the loudness of my voice?
The seriousness?
The playfulness?

I heard it again today — even when I thought I had changed. But here is where I stand now: while I aim to exude my feminine self, I choose to remain true to who I am, even if the world insists on calling me “a man.”

Because strength is not masculine.
Independence is not masculine.
Competence is not masculine.
They are human traits, and I carry them because life required them of me.

I am a woman who knows how to stand on her own feet. I am a woman who has learned to do what needs to be done. I am a woman who carries both softness and steel, and neither one cancels the other out.

If that unsettles people’s expectations, then so be it.

I will not shrink myself to fit someone else’s definition of femininity. I will not dilute the parts of me that have kept me steady, capable, and alive.

I am who I am — fully, loudly, gently, completely.
And that is enough.

With a wavering smile,

HerSplendidThoughts