Your Own Kind Of Girl

Chocolate you’ve got chocolate on your mouth, oh you long to be, like the other girls, your not going to be ‘some other girl’

I didn’t realise how hard it is to grow up as a teenager in our society until I actually had to do it. Nothing can prepare a person like me for that. I knew what it was going to be like, but I didn’t know how much it we going to affect me. I tend to think. A lot. About feminism, about women, about men, about how men treat women, and about how women treat men. It admittedly makes me quite depressed. I dwell on things, things I can’t change, and the fact that I can’t change it makes me even more depressed. Vicious cycle. Not fun.

I have moments of weakness. More than I would like to admit. Seems to be happening more and more lately. It appears to be a constant battle, trying to not get sucked in. Sucked in to doing what other people want you to do, what other people are doing. It is even harder accepting who I am. It doesn’t fit. I don’t fit.

I know I don’t need to fit. But it would be nice sometimes. It would be nice for me to be more accepting of myself. But in order to be accepting of myself it means accepting that I have issues with accepting myself. Vicious cycle number two. Still not fun.

My will power isn’t strong enough to face all of those things every single day by myself. I don’t have to though. I have authors like Virgina Woolf and Sylvia Plath. I have songwriters like Fiona Apple and Natalie Imbruglia. And Clare Bowditch. She wrote the song Your Own Kind Of Girl, a line of which I included at the beginning of this post. I’ll post the rest of the lyrics at the end of this post, if you wish to take a look. I love the song to pieces, although I almost always cry when I listen to it. If you haven’t already, find your Clare Bowditch. It makes the world of difference, I promise.

Chocolate, you’ve got chocolate on your mouth,

oh you long to be, like the other girls, you’re not going to be like other girls,

some other girl

you’ve been reading the magazines,

again,

 comparing your sweet body, to the bodies of natures longest ones

smoothed out with air brush guns

you’ve been wondering when the answer is going to come,

it’s not going to come

till you realise you are fine,

you’re more than enough real world needs real girls to love

themselves enough

 I went on my first diet when I was eight years old, ten eleven twelve, through twenty one

when I came undone,

I thought oh someone tell me that more than this

So I understand thoughts get out of hand,

 I still know all the shame of falling for that same old shit time and time again,

that there’s some simple answer to a complex life, it’s only $29.99

so there they sit high in their towers writing lists about what women need,

with no regard to understanding no real care about the pain they breed,

my hope for you my darling girl be brave bulid your dream in own size

coz otherwise your buying crap that you don’t need to feed a world that will not feed you

that will not feed you

Chocolate, you’ve got chocolate, on your mouth, oh you long to be like the other girls,

 you weren’t born to be some other girl

You’re going to be your own kind of girl.

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Suggestions?

For a school project, I have to read a book that is non-fiction and is about an ‘important social issue’. I immediately thought of feminism as an important social issue, but I don’t know any books that would be good to read.

I would prefer a book that doesn’t have too many extensive sentences and long words that make reading laborious, but not so easy that the message doesn’t come across. And nothing too radical, because I don’t want to scare my teachers too much.

Does anyone have any suggestions?

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On Nail Polish and Roses

I quite like wearing nail polish. My favourite colour, among others, is purple. I sit and chat with my friends at lunch. I like roses, and irises, and rosemary, and cherry blossoms. I like looking at pictures of cute baby animals. I once owned a princess costume. I draw little hearts on things. I like wearing dresses. I embroider things. I own lipgloss. I enjoy cooking.

Have I been influenced by society’s opinion on females? Is all I am a reflection of what the media thinks girls should be and do?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently. I’ve been wondering whether I can still be a feminist if I like and do all these things. It’s a bit of a fine line to walk. I probably have been influenced by society and the media, but I hope my personality is mostly the way I was born, and the events in my life that have shaped me.

I think that just because I am a feminist, I can still draw little hearts on things. I don’t think feminism to be stopping girls from doing all these things, but rather changing the way we think about little girls, and making everything doable by both genders.

I climb trees. My other favourite colours are yellow and green. I think mud slides are better than water slides. I like star trek. I have an interest in the Ancient Romans and Greeks. I play the drums (loudly). I play minecraft. I train in a martial art. I prefer woodwork to sewing. I like driving things.

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Fairytales

Fairy tales are some of the scariest stories in the world. Poisoned apples, life time lock-ups, evil wolves, trolls. Scary stuff to read to children. But what makes them scary for me is that we are implanting in children’s minds the ideas that you have to marry an handsome prince, and if you want to marry a handsome prince, you had better have red lips, white skin and beautiful hair. Does anyone in the world have red lips? I hope not, because I think they would look slightly creepy.

I think it would be nice if maybe the prince kissed Snow White not because he was blinded by her beauty, but because they had met before and had fallen in love because of their mutual love of star trek or something like that. Also, maybe the entire story could just be re-written, because kissing someone while they are asleep in front of a bunch of dwarves without the sleepers consent is a bit rapey for my taste.

Maybe Cinderella and the prince could fall in love because while dancing at the ball, they discovered that they both had a passion for politics. And when Cinderella runs away, the prince shouldn’t chase after her, because that is rapey too. He should have gotten her phone number at the ball.

How about the Beast falling in love with Beauty is not because of her beauty, but her love of reading (which is even mentioned in some versions). Maybe the Beast could stay a Beast, and Beauty and him get married. She already loved him, why did he need to become handsome?

I think our fairy tales could do with a bit of an edit. Why don’t we all have a bit of a go at editing them verbally? If we find ourselves in a position where we must tell a fairy story, let’s change them a bit. It could make a difference to the way people see the world.

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Happy International Women’s day!

When I was at preschool, I was coloring in a picture of flowers. One of the women that worked there (I can’t remember whether there were men or not, somehow I doubt it) was talking to me about the colours I like. “Every colour except black, brown, blue and green.” I replied.
“Why don’t you like those colours?”
“Because they are boys colours.”
Thankfully, she told me that there are no colours for boys, and no colours for girls, anyone can like any colour.

I don’t know how I came up with that idea, as I had been brought up by my lovely feminist Mum. I still am being brought up by my lovely feminist Mum. It was my mother who taught me that girls are just as important as boys. Now that I am older, I can articulate these ideas in ways that are relevant to the world around me. So far, my opinions are the same as hers, and that will probably continue to be the case. I am so lucky to have be living in this house, because who knows? Maybe I could still be thinking that green is a boys colour.

Happy International Women’s Day!

My favourite colours now are purple, yellow and green.

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Clueless

As I am standing with my mother in the line at the supermarket checkout, I flick my eyes over the magazines. Most of them cause eye-rolls. But the other day, Ok! magazine caused a stare, and a vaguely worried mind-set for the rest of the day.

The main headline, coupled with a photo of a very thin Angelina Jolie: ‘apparently happier than ever, why is Angelina risking her health to stay thin?’

A little headline up the top: ‘(famous celebrity who has had a baby)’s post baby body!

Yeah. I wonder too.

It would be really nice for the media to send a message to people about being beautiful no matter what your weight was. And not just one article called ‘love your body’ that involves loving your body unless it is over size 14. Shouldn’t the magazines want to make you feel good so you buy it again?

Couldn’t the media just be a little more accepting?

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New school. Again.

This blog started when Lessonstobelearned462 was new at high school. My turn now! I am moving into high school.

I am mostly looking forward to being a high school girl. I think it will give me a lot more independence, and control over my own learning. But I am not looking forward to the first day, the getting lost, the meeting new people, and the teachers I have never met before. I think that if I could just magically arrive two weeks into term with new friends, knowing all the school customs and carrying a map of the school in my head, it would be great. And nice and easy. Unfortunately, this seems a little unlikely, unless someone manages to invent a time machine between now and next week. Bummer.

Anyway, off to high school. Wish me luck!

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