A weekend as a girl (Part eight)

A WEEKEND AS A GIRL (Final part) 

"Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you."

This review has been all over the place, hasn't it? That's the problem with reviewing an experience like this. How could you possibly put into words, putting yourself in another person's shoes? Remember me telling you that the reason I did it, was because there are some things you can't just learn from reading about it? I wasn't lying. There are things you won't ever get, by simply reading. So imagine the challenge writing about something you can't put into words. So, where has this review been?

It started off as something for my closest friend, so that they could share the experience with me to some extent. Then I posted it on my personal wall on Facebook. People got excited about it, and wanted to read more. I branched out, and touched the Facebook group Sweden Cosplay with it, asking for advise and perspective. Many were kind, but some where not. Very few actually gave me anything to work with, and among the agitators were people that never cared to listen. So I am not going to coddle these people any more, because they are selfish and they are cold. I gave them a chance to help me understand one of the most important issues in the world right now, and I was instead made to feel as though I'd violated all of womankind. So this finish is not for them. This finish is for me, and for all of you who have stayed with me this long. To all of you who have made an effort to try and understand me, who have endured my controversial statements and that chose to if not agree, then at least to listen. Here is the conclusion of my review about a weekend as a girl! Let's discuss it point by point. For every point I discuss, I'm going to use at least one example from the weekend to illustrate.

SEXISM

(I know I JUST addressed sexism in the previous entry. That's why I'm getting it over with)

Sexism isn't an excuse for you to wield your gender like a weapon against the true evil. Sexism is when your gender is the target of insult, and when you are treated as less than yourself because of your gender. What I mean by this, is that you must not assume that your gender is the reason for you being treated in a certain way, unless it is made clear that such is the case. It may sound as though I'm asking everyone to build themselves up to be struck down, but it's really not. It's the first step.

When I was younger, I was picked to be a goalie in soccer over my female friend. I liked being a goalie. I was good at it! Which is saying something, because I've never liked sports. "It's because he's a boy, isn't it?", we got to hear. No. I was actually just better, and it wasn't just practice. It was a game. I do not often toot my own horn, something you know if you've known me for a while, but I was genuinely good at being a goalie. I was asked not to be, because the coach didn't want it to seem like an act of sexism. She got to be a goalie. And in making that choice, our coach was sexist. The intentions were good, but the reality was dirty. That sort of behavior is going to harm the war against sexism! Don't see sexism that isn't there. It will infect the campaign, it will sully it. How do I know that was what the coach was doing? Because I was told. By the coach.

In more recent years, I was playing a video game: League of Legends. My online friend invited some friends of his into Skype and into our party, and we played together. One of these players were a girl, and for whatever reason, people always find a need to apologize to me when they worry that they will pull me down while playing a game. Another of my not that many talents, is video games. I get good fast, because I have a flame the size of an inferno when there's something I genuinely wants to learn! Anyway, for whatever reason, he chose to write in private and tell me "Don't worry. She's good for a girl." Good "for a girl"! I got so mad, but ... I'm not a brave person. I regret it now, but I said nothing. We played the game. We lost (NOT her fault. My head wasn't in the game, and I may have ... accidentally failed to save my friend a couple of times). He apologized in private, and I said I had to go. I haven't played with him since. (If it interests you to know, I HAVE played with her. She added me afterwards.)

I love this picture of me.

I wish I stood in front of a green screen!

This topic has been the base for this whole experiment, trying to gain a grander understanding of the way the world works. I went out there fully expecting to be treated different because of my perceived gender, and to no ones surprise, I was. Sexism is very real, and very intense. And it happens everywhere. All the time! Everyone does it! Women judge men based on their gender. Men judge women. Men judge men. Women judge women. And everything in between.

Some have twisted this review into me saying that sexism isn't so bad. That I liked it. That twist disgusts me, because this review couldn't be further away from that. All I've been saying is that women has something that men doesn't, and that's adoration. And that's not about an issue with how men see women; It's an issue with how women see men. How men see men! Don't twist my words into something they aren't. That I felt beautiful wasn't because I suddenly had boobs and a gorgeous  butt, but because all of a sudden, I felt as though it was alright to consider myself beautiful. People turned their heads, they flirted, and took pictures of me for no other reason than because I was a woman. I felt beautiful, and it was confirmed. How often is my costume complimented as a man? VERY. How often is my body complimented as a man? NEVER. Sure there are men that causes heads to turn, and we have a beauty ideal as well, but that's the hiccup, isn't it? In the same way that men has their "perfect" bodies, women have their "imperfect" ones. Can you even begin to imagine how difficult it is to write this review in a way that does EVERYTHING justice? It can't be done. I'd write my fingers into nubs.

Anyway. I could spend an hour making myself beautiful as a man, choosing the right outfit and walk with the confidence I had as Celty, and I will barely get a fraction of the attention. This is my conclusion for sexism: Life as a girl is a special kind of hell, but there are fires in this hell that keep you warm when it's cold. I'm not going to suddenly pretend that I get the intricate depths of sexism, just because I was a woman for a weekend, but I did get this: When I wrote "jump", a lot of men asked how high (I didn't actually write that, but it makes my point). Chew on that while I move onto the next point.

FIDELITY

Something I learned this weekend, that hasn't been clear to me before, was this: There is a sense of camaraderie between women, on a level that men doesn't have. Pain has united these people, has formed a bond between them that men likely won't share in my lifetime (and when it is shared, I do hope it's out of love and not pain). Perhaps we'll serve some space alien matriarch in the future, but I can't assume that it's going to happen, so I won't argue as though it will. Thing is, when I was spoken to at the convention, there was a sense of ease to the conversations with women. Not just for me, but the way they complimented me, the way they talked to me, it all felt genuine on a level I haven't experienced before.

That's not saying that men don't connect with each other, but it's a little bit different, isn't it?  I have t he good fortune of enjoying some male friends that deviate from the typical male behavior, but me and my friends stand out. We're elephants in almost any room we're in! As  much as I love myself and my friends, this world isn't ours. Women however, have made their own world. The world of the man is a mean one, with a ton of injustices towards the female of the species (It's the title of an awesome song, don't hate me), and they have survived it. Why? They have each other. Not always, of course, for like with any social group, there are outcasts. There are those whose lives have been burned for no real reason, other than them not being who the world expects them to be. Boys can be mean, but there are far more stories about girls turning on their own.

Anyway, this isn't about that. This is about the light within the darkness, it's about the beauty in an otherwise quite ugly world. It's about what I saw this weekend: Women have intimacy. Women have feelings. Women have each other in a way that men don't. And I'm not saying this to yet again batter on the problems among men; This is about something else. This is about being asked how I felt. It's about someone checking on me without me giving any indication of feeling down. This is about me as Celty not having to tell someone that I could use a hug. This is about someone being ready to hug me, without worrying what it might look like. And honestly, as much as this may sound like a joke, there's almost like women have a sense of when someone needs you.

I came to think of this song, when writing all of this.

You either get why, or you don't. I'm just going to leave it here.

Fight those chains, girls!

I'm not going to try and romanticize the life of a woman. I'm not sitting here, writing to all the men to tell you that life as a woman is preferable to that of a man. For every good event, there's something rotten around the corner. There's another expectation to be lived up to, or some injustice within society that is ready to knock you down just as you get up again. I'm not too naive to not know this, and I pray to whoever is watching over us all that no one thinks this review is one big "Get a grip, girls!" statement, because it isn't. Just because I liked one weekend of it, doesn't mean you aren't right to hate what the world is doing to you. One weekend is all it takes for me to see what's missing in a life among men, but it doesn't come anywhere near telling me what it's like to be one of you women! I wish that it did. So badly, I wish that it did! I want to understand, I want to be able to relate, I want to empathize, but no amount of experiments are going to let me. Never fully! Some of you have told me "You don't want to know!", and I actually do. I know it sounds insane, self-destructive, and like I'd be taking a silver spoon out of my mouth, but ... I honestly, genuinely, truly wants to understand.

You're amazing people, and your strength is indescribable, and the best I can do is say "I can't possibly imagine." when you open up. I don't want that role. I want to be there for you, I want to be that someone that understands you, when the rest of the world treats you poorly. I want to be  with you through the bad, and not just the good. And I can't. But I'm as sure as gravity going to try! I have already learned so much, and my life has only just begun!

A new gang in town. They are called "The Helmets" and they fight for love and rainbows. 

THE ALMOST-GIRL CREATED A CHANGED MAN

I'm just going to come out and say it: This weekend killed me. The person that went into it, is not the same person that came out of it. Somewhere along the line, I changed. And I don't want to believe that it was Saturday evening that did it. I just don't want to believe that I'm the sort of person that has to fear for my health before I realize the reality of a situation. I choose not to believe that about myself. That's not saying that it wasn't a titanic moment in my life, that changed the way I think, but that wasn't the biggest change to me that weekend.

This weekend was enriching. Thanks to the men and women of that convention, I was given the opportunity to look at myself. On the outside, and on the inside. And I'm not just talking about checking myself out any time I passed a mirror or a reflecting glass window! I learned to appreciate the things about me that weren't artificial, and the little makeover I had with my eyebrows and so, allowed me to think about what it would take f or me to be truly comfortable with myself. Thanks to this weekend, I'm expecting the upcoming immediate future in my life to entail a couple of changes to how I carry myself, how I treat myself, and perhaps even what I wear.

But that's not what I want you to remember me taking out of this, it's not what's truly important. I found the confidence to try new things: I was hammered harder than ever before for my choice of cosplay, and I persevered. Never before have I wanted to cry over a cosplay, and never before have I felt in danger because of my cosplay. And despite all of this, I loved it. And not just for the attention, because I can get attention as a ton of different cosplay. And it's not about  wanting someone to flirt with me, or wanting someone to find me attractive enough to objectify me.

I found myself this weekend. I found something I love. I felt a kinship unlike anything I've felt my whole life, and I want more of it. I not only felt at home, but I felt significant. And twist it all you want, but it wasn't because I suddenly had ass and breasts. I did a cosplay I've dreamed of doing, but never dared, because I don't want to genderbend Celty. I don't want to make Celty "another man", because she's far too inspirational to be made into something other than what she is. What makes her perfect, is everything coming together and shaping Celty. That's not to say that I wouldn't love meeting a male Celty, but I wanted to be as true to her as I could. And I was. And I loved it! And I was loved for it.

But I'm stringing you along, I'm being intentionally long-winded and I'm sorry about this. Honestly? I loved being a girl. All except for one of my upcoming cosplays are now girls, and not because of attention, or because of the body, or anything like that. I felt whole. Something had been missing in me, and Celty filled that hole. I went into this weekend doing an experiment, and I came out of it with a whole new perspective on life. On myself. I've made amazing new friends, and I've felt bonds strengthen with friends from before. I became someone I've wanted to be but never dared, and I was accepted for it. Sure some of my friends laughed, but I'm glad they are comfortable enough around me to speak their mind, even if it isn't in alignment with my sincerity in wanting this for myself. And this is not me coming out as transsexual, because I'm comfortable with who I am. I do identify myself as Thomas. But something has been missing.

Celty allowed me to experience a side of life I've never explored. A side of myself that's malnourished. I've always been aware of my feminine side, but I've never relaxed it. Not when I'm out with friends, and not when I'm at home. It's a wound that runs deep, because I've always been made fun of over it, and I've spent a lifetime "practicing it away", but it's never gone. Last weekend it didn't have to go away. Last weekend, it had to come forward. Or at least try to, because it was shackled pretty well. By the end of the third day, I was at peace. Not just because it was an experiment well spent, but because at that point, I had chosen to accept a part of myself that I've shunned. That I've been afraid of.

His costume was simply amazing.

When I was little, I was bullied for being girly. I was bullied for behaving so gay. And I was bullied for being skinny. Guess what: I am skinny. I am g-... well, I'm bi. And I am girly! And that's not a bad thing. It's not a shameful thing. To be a girl isn't a bad thing, and if this weekend has taught me anything, it's that. Girls are strong. Girls are inspiring. To be compared to a girl isn't a bad thing. It's a compliment, no matter what tone you say it in!

All that I learned this weekend was too much to put into text, which is why no matter how much I write, I will always feel like there's something more I should've gone into, or something I should've discussed in great detail. I have learned the intricate nuances of sexism on a level I didn't think of before. I don't just know from reading what some of the dangers you face as a woman are. I've seen some of the darkest sides of humanity, the socially "accepted" sides that drive some into depression and brutal self-loathing. But I've also seen wonders. I've seen kindness, and I've seen love. I've seen perversion, and I've seen adoration. I've been idolized by children, and I've been scolded by elderly. I was genuinely worried about being a victim of violence (or worse) at one point, and I was given discount on a related item because I was who I was (Celty plush).

I can't say that this weekend was good, or that it was bad. Saying it was good, would do harm to just how bad it was at times, and saying that it was bad would do serious harm to all the good times I've had, and all the wonderful people I've met. I can only say that I'm glad that it happened, that I don't regret it at all, not a second of it (good or bad) and that I have become something more because of it.

So ... this experiment was created to try and find the differences between being a man at a convention, and a woman. This review is over now, and I hope you picked up on all the points I've made, because I don't think I should have to spell them out for you in a list. If you've read this  far, you've read about the differences, and what  I think of them. But in case you skipped to the end, here's a tl;dr, because I care about you.

Every person on this planet is unique. You can run into a female pervert, or a male saint. Women made me cry, and men I wanted to strike. I've never felt more accepted, but I've also never felt more afraid. I loved the life of a woman, but I fear the dangers of it. Daily, even now when I'm back to being me. You girls be careful, and take care of each other! And I have realized just how much men are suffering. We don't show it, and we might not even know it, but we're in trouble.  The male of the species needs to learn how to love, and not just his future wife or husband and children. Everyone! It's so unmanly show weakness, that we share nothing. Womankind this weekend has inspired me, and I'm very glad to hear (and to tell all of you) that some men have been inspired by me and this blog.

With that said, I'm wrapping this up. I got so much more to say, but it has to end somewhere, and eight parts is plenty to get at least the biggest things off of my chest. If you want to continue communication with me, feel free to add me on Facebook. Know though that I am DONE treating rude people with respect. I tried it, they didn't care. If you write to me and I don't like your tone, don't expect a reply. I'm going to read it, I read everything, and I appreciate any perspective and input you might have, but I'm not going to dignify a rude message with a reply. That doesn't mean I might not learn from it, but I care about myself too much to just take abuse because someone decided that I deserve it.

Now get out here and be amazing. All of you, regardless of gender! Tell friends and family that you love them, tell a stranger, tell your colleagues! It might feel strange to tell a stranger, and they might think you're weirdo, but we need to disarm this non-love atmosphere that the world is suffering from right now. Tell a girl she's pretty, even though she might think you a pervert! Trust me: a compliment lasts far longer than a passing thought about why you were given a compliment. And don't ever hesitate to be kind, because the slightest kindness can mean the world to someone. A few kind words from you, can help mend a wound.

THANK YOU FOR READING!
I am sorry if I at any point during this review offended you.

I LOVE YOU!