Blog 3
I Feel Like A Woman
Today, while walking into my place of employment, I spit. Yep, I spit. I felt a mucous build up in my throat and I got rid of it. A man walked past me and asked/said, “You know that’s not very lady like, right?”
*Really? Who cares what you think.*
The other day while I was at work, I cried. I cried and cried and cried. For all of the things that I want, for many of the things that I will never have. I’m a crier. It feels good when I am allowed to release –real good. My co-worker asked me if I was getting ready to get a visit from good ole Aunt Flow. I told them no. But, I wish that was the case.
*Not mad that they asked that, but why do my hormones have to be “raging” in order for me to really let loose? Can’t I be happy, sad, mad or whatever I am feeling at the moment.*
I give those two examples to say this. I see men spit ALL the time, I don’t make any comment on it. I see women spit too, I throw no shade. (Meaning I don’t give any side-eyes, nor do I comment.) I don’t care if you spit, just try and spit in the grass so I’m not walking in it. I don’t carry a case of tissues in my purse on the chance I might have to spit. I try to do it in the grass. Don’t tell me that I am not a “lady”. If you are man and you happen to enjoy the colors pink, lavender, teal, or some other “girly” color –I’m not going to judge you, please don’t judge me.
Also, I cry. Not because I am a woman, but because I am human. Don’t make the assumption that I am being overly sensitive because my monthly cycle is about to arrive. I’m human. Let me be me –tears, spit, dresses, pants, smiles and all.
