For the past 20 years, I have been taught as a girl to be shy, honest, loving, caring and at the top silent. Loving as a human but silent as a commodity, a commodity which serves and serves and nothing is there which in return it deserves.
The atmosphere, the environment, the movies, and the relatives all guided me to be a subordinate because I’m a girl. A girl who studies to serve, marries to serve and who if earns is also to serve, her life should be spent to make others happy no matter what she gets as an outcome.
And the most weird thing is that I followed these norms, the norms of the so called experienced, the norms made from but against religion. The norms which sometimes make our women feel not human. I followed them blindly like every girl does in our society. I played with dolls, made houses, dreamed about pink dresses and tried to be a master chef. I didn’t care if this was what I wanted to do, didn’t bother if my instincts, my passions were suppressed somewhere dying to perspire.
Then I passed school, went to college but life didn’t change. Same old girls obsessed with the way they look externally. I began life there with an effort to pursue admiration for beauty, clothes, jewelry and desire to look the way they did. I forced to live a life where no body will call me a manly woman.
But as the time passed by I realized that I’m not one of them. Not the one who loves jewelry, who wears pretty bright clothes and certainly not the one who looks at the eyelashes and complexion rather than the real soul and expression. And yes! That was the time I discovered myself. I didn’t love the color pink, I didn’t wish to live a fairytale and find my prince charming who will climb up my braided hair. I wanted a life filled with adventures; I wished to explore my inner self. I’m not an object to be dressed and utilized rather I’m a full-fledged member of the human community. That was the time I started following my dreams.
Since then I have been challenging myself at every point of life and testing my stamina to the maximum. When people see me deviating from the stereotypical “girlish” standards they call me manly, when I cut my hair they call me insane, my efforts of independence are seen as obsolete by them. Thus they try hard to break my confidence and make me feeble. But I can see the hidden fear in them, fear that one day I will discover those strengths that every woman is supposed to repress, fear that my denial will encourage the ladies around me to do the same.
I’m neither a feminist nor a member of male hatred community instead I like to have my share of space in the world, the space that every woman deserves just like any man. Briefly, I do whatever I feel like doing instead of whatever others want me to do. And if after going through this article you find me tomboyish or a manly woman then surely you’re influenced deeply by those stereotypes created by our ancestors to degrade any woman of substance who dares to survive in this wretched world.