A Tomboy Grows up to become a Woman
Growing Up as a "Tomboy" Without Labels"
Growing up, I was always a bit of a tomboy. I never quite fit into the mold of what society deemed "girly." But the truth is, I also didn't fit into the box labeled tomboy.
While other girls played with Barbies and played dress-up, I preferred action figures and comic books. I would rather play in the mud with the boys than sit quietly and paint my nails.
My mother always wanted me to get my nails done with her when I was younger (but I only enjoyed getting my nails done once I was over 20). Whenever my mother asked me if I wanted to go to the nail salon with her, I would ask, "How am I going to fight with nails?"
But even though I was definitely more of a tomboy, I loved skirts (not dresses—it had to be a skirt). I would either get a skort with the shorts already built in or put a pair of shorts on underneath the skirt because I loved running around, climbing trees, and wrestling with my guy friends, but I didn't like doing any of that in pants. I felt like a superhero when I wore a skirt.
The next thing I realized I liked that was more on the feminine spectrum was rainbows. Back then, I didn't appreciate the rainbow as God's promise, like I do today, but I loved how the colors blended together.
I felt like I couldn't have these types of interests because they conflicted with my other interests, such as fighting or wrestling, baseball, tree climbing, skateboarding, and so on.
My parents never tried to fit me into a box. I was still their DAUGHTER; I just enjoyed things boys traditionally enjoyed. They allowed me to explore and grow in the way that felt most natural to me. And while society questioned me, they didn't. I wanted an action figure? You got it. I wanted to wear a skirt? Absolutely. They catch me wrestling with one of my male friends in the backyard? Don't kill each other. I sprain my ankle falling out of a tree or damage my achilles heel being flung from a RipStick? Kids will be kids.
They understood that my interests and hobbies didn't define my "gender." "Transitioning" me would have never crossed their minds. They supported me in whatever activities I pursued, whether playing sports with the boys, reading comics or novels in my room, writing, or climbing trees. I will repeat: THEY SUPPORTED ME! They came to every softball game and every poetry slam. If I wrote a new short story, they wanted to hear it. They wanted to listen to me babble about my day. They wanted to be there for me. They wanted me to be happy. They wanted me to find my own path in this world.
They weren't just accepting; they were lenient parents. There was no such thing as a child lock at my house. They wanted us to ask questions. My mom would have put a lock on the television, but my dad stopped her once upon a time. First, he didn't want to type in a code every time he wanted to watch TV, but, more importantly, he also preferred us talking to them about certain topics versus trying to "learn" from peers at school. He felt the stricter they were, it would have just resulted in us going behind their backs, and it didn't take much to convince my mom because she grew up in a strict home, and she knows firsthand what my father was trying to explain. This led to us watching various programming, from sitcoms like FRIENDS to adult cartoons like Family Guy; we watched tragedy to horror to fantasy. I read much more as I matured and learned I loved angst-filled stories (and I remember my parents never stopping me from reading those darker tales about rape or abuse and even helping me check out the books when the public librarian required parental approval). When I asked where babies come from at the age of five, my mom took me to the library to check out a book that explained it in a way I could understand, including a chapter on Safe Sex, which also discussed homosexuality. Instead of avoiding either topic, my mom MADE THE CHOICE and openly discussed it with me, explaining: "Some women like other women, and some men like other men." Through these conversations, my parents showed me that they will always be there to support and love me, no matter what.
My parents didn't pressure me to conform to societal norms. Even when I felt out of place at times because I felt like I was doing the whole "girl" thing or even the tomboy thing wrong, because I felt like I had to make a choice, my parents had my back. I felt like I wasn't allowed to have "girly" interest if I was a tomboy, vice verse. I slowly realized that my "girl" hood didn't hinge on how I dressed, the activities I enjoyed, or how much makeup I wore. I gained confidence in myself, understanding that I didn't have to conform to anyone else's idea of femininity or even fit into the label of "tomboy." I don't need a label to define my identity. When I grew up, we were against labels, and now everyone wants to be labeled and shoved into a box when we already had this fight to break outside the box.
My parents taught me that being different is okay and that true strength comes from unapologetically embracing who you are. I don't need someone else to validate who I am because I know who I am!
I am grateful for their unwavering support and acceptance, which have shaped me into the confident woman I am today. I am proud to say that I am still attached to certain more masculine things, but that does not make me any less of a woman. Stereotypes or expectations do not define my identity—it is determined by me and me alone. And I wouldn't have it any other way.