So there was this guy. Who I liked. I mean, REALLY liked.
I wanted so badly for him to fall for me. I thought that, if I just asked him out, he’d say yes and the rest would be history.
So I did.
And he laughed. But I wasn’t aware that I said anything funny.
He said, “Emma, I’d never go out with you. You’re just too masculine for me. I don’t date manly girls.”
I don’t date manly girls.
Now how about that.
I have three brothers. I used to play basketball. I used to wear my brothers’ hand-me-downs. My mom sentenced me to a brutally short haircut in middle school. And, above all that, I’m 6’3”. The idea that I might be seen as masculine was one of my biggest insecurities growing up.
I was the girl who everyone thought was a boy. That’ll stay with you.
And now, here’s this guy who I wanted SO BADLY to be with, and he was telling me that my fears were true.
And it hurt. I was absolutely crushed. I was embarrassed, confused, and ashamed. I will never forget that feeling.
But see, here’s the thing. It’s 2017. Qualities that are “traditionally” male and “traditionally” female don’t really matter anymore. I am a woman. And I’m tall. And loud. I like sports. I wear men’s clothes sometimes. I curse. I drink beer. But also, I love to do my nails. I love dresses and flowers and cooking and shopping.
Enjoying these things doesn’t make me manly or feminine. It makes me me. And just because some asshole tries to tear me down, it doesn’t mean that I’m less beautiful. It just shows how ugly he is.