Girl on Girl



May 12th, 2008  a Monday

I enjoy being a girl.  I guess that is not an original thought because there is that song in the musical, Flower Drum Song, with the same name.  I couldn't remember all the words so had to look them up.  Now I'm not so sure that the song is exactly what I meant.  It starts out with images of curvy silhouettes, sweet and girlish gaits and swivelly, swervy hips.  Then something about being a filly who is ready for the race.  The big finish involves being strictly a female female with a future in the home of a brave and free male who enjoys being a guy having a girl like me.  (When was that show written anyway?)  It's harder for me to establish my girlness because you can't really tell if a bear is a boy or girl just by looking (even though my petite size, purplish fur, and sweet demeanor kind of gives it away).  I try to be a "girl" by actions, not hip movements, racehorse analogies, or hopes for living with brave and free males.  But that's just me.  

Grown up girls could really learn a lot from little girls.  When little girls get dressed up, they wear fancy dresses with sashes in pretty colors and lacy socks with patent leather shoes.  Someone fixes their hair, usually with a ribbon, but after that, they never comb their hair or worry if the ribbon comes loose.  They just have fun and don't really notice.  If they are very little, they take their favorite doll or teddy bear or blankie along with them.  If they are having fun, they giggle with delight.  If music plays, they dance and twirl around to their heart's content.  When they get tired, they curl up somewhere with that blankie and take a rest.  They don't worry about getting their dress dirty or messed up because they know Mom will wash and iron it so they just climb and plop down on the ground or whatever comes to mind.  If a boy bothers them, they either tell on them or cry or run away.  They know if they make enough of a fuss, someone will come and tell that boy to stop.  No one gets to treat Daddy's little girl that way.  And she knows it.

The grown up girl dresses require a lot more attention.  In other words, they can't climb or plop down on the ground in them (because if you get them dirty they have to go to the dry cleaner).  There seems to be less dress on the top, and actually less dress at the bottom sometimes, too, so they have to be careful how they move.  They worry if their hair gets messed up from its original style and often go to the ladies room to fix it and put on more make-up and lipstick so they look just perfect.  If a boy bothers them, they may actually like it, a sign that all the work on the dress, hair and make-up was a success.  If he is a brave and free male, she may hit the jackpot.  

Seriously though, back to being a girl by actions.  We may want to be feminine and attractive, but being strong and assertive and tough is a lot more ok than it used to be.  We are a little behind on this.  Consider animals, for example.  Lots of times the male leaves the female after he gets her pregnant and the mom raises the little ones on her own, fiercely protecting them while also nurturing and loving them.  You know how people say you wouldn't want to make a mama bear angry when her cubs are around.  Did you see the National Geographic story about the leopard who killed the monkey, leaving a tiny baby monkey looking on, scared to death.  When the leopard saw the baby, instead of eating him, she adopted him as her own.  From a brutal killing to kind mothering in an instant.

It's all about mindset, I guess.  There was a pregnant dog who was hit by a car and broke both her back legs.  Her legs healed on their own but she was never able to use them properly again and had to drag them around behind her.  When the puppies were born, she was able to feed them and take care of them just fine.  When they got old enough to run around, they also dragged their legs behind them just like Mom.  Everyone thought the puppies must have been injured in the accident also so they took them to the vet.  The vet said there was nothing wrong with them, they were just doing what they saw their Mom do.  The puppies thought that was how they were supposed to walk, didn't know any better.   They would have to change their mindset before they could learn to use their legs.

At a Mother's Day rally, Hillary said something about a woman being like a tea bag.  You never know how strong she is until she's in hot water.  Kimberly Dozier knows what that feels like.  She was a reporter in Iraq, critically injured in a car bomb that killed her two cameramen, her interpreter, and the military man they were following.  It has taken her years to learn to walk again.  She said she died on the operating table more than once.  She said people don't know when to stop cuddling her, didn't understand when she stopped being a victim and became a survivor.  People thought she would be scarred for life in her head and her heart, would not be able to overcome the trauma, and would sink into the darkness of post traumatic stress syndrome.  But Kimberly began to talk about it, write about it, and finally leave it behind.  She said it can be done.  She's living proof, she said.  

Being a girl can be confusing.  (And I'll bet it is really confusing to men.)  All I know is that we are brought up with a certain mindset about ourselves.  I never thought I could grow up to be a bear with a blog.  And Kimberly probably didn't think she would ever be reporting in a war zone much less almost die there and have to bring herself back from the dead to be a strong female survivor.  Girlness is whatever you want it to be these days.  We are lucky that way.  Doesn't mean we can't walk down the street with a sweet and girlish gate and swivelly, swirly hips.  But come one step closer, buster, and I'll knock your block off.  

GR