A weekend as a girl (Part five)

A WEEKEND AS A GIRL
(Part five)

THE POWER OF WORDS!

I often worry that people do not put enough trust in the power of words. Many does not say that one little thing that might a bad day better, and not because they don't have the time, nor because they don't have the interest to make that  day better. They refrain from saying it, because they often think that something so little, can't really be significant. A single kind word can save a life.

Don't worry, I'm not going to go philosophical on you, but I am going to discuss the power of the spoken or written word. When I walked around as Celty, I didn't speak at all. I virtually never spoke, barely even when I was in private with my friends. It just didn't feel right to the character, but I was constantly spoken to. People gave me compliments, people remarked  upon whatever it might have been behind my back, and when people spoke to me, they could be a fount of words at times. They could talk and talk and talk, even though they knew I wouldn't be able to reply. I found that fascinating, but what I found even more fascinating, was how little was required of me to make them smile.

One of the many scenarios that I remember, was walking up to a cosplayer (or just an extravagant person) and telling her that she looked really exciting, by writing so on my whiteboard. I made a simple gestured with my hands over her dress and her mouth went into high gear! She talked about the dress, about her inspiration, about all sorts of things, and while I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't know half of the things she mentioned, it was a real pleasure to hear her out. The love she'd put in her dress poured out as words through her mouth, and her eyes spoke of unspeakable pride. When she was done, she apologized for having gone on like she did. I wrote 'Thank you for telling me', doodled a smiley face and extended my arms to invite a hug. We hugged, and parted. 

Why am I telling you this? Because she looked and sounded like I made her day! But there's a dark side to words as well, and it is equally potent as the light. A lot of words have double meanings, and I suffered some of that during the weekend. I believe that humanity is kind, but that there are those that stray, and that corrupts. And what many regard as a kindness, isn't really so. Some like being told they have a nice ass, while others can't stand it. Others like being called sexy, and some find it offensive. There's even this thing that being a 'nice guy' is a bad thing, something I got into a discussion about a while back. Some don't take the word cute well, while others do. Words are dangerous things.

When I went to the convention, I encountered all sorts of people, who told me all sorts of things, and I realized just how deluded the world is. One man told me that he'd like to have me under the sheets, and the tone in his voice made him sound as though he gave me the greatest compliment there was. I was not only worthy his attention, I was worthy enough to enter his bedroom. I could laugh at it, because I would've loved to see the look on his face when the suit came off, but in reality, it's not really a laughing matter. 

I couldn't care less about what he said, honestly, and I know that's going to rattle the cage a bit. Thing is, words aren't bad things. Words aren't evil. Words aren't cruel. People are. Intentions are. The reason we sometimes react the way we do to something that is seemingly harmless to someone else, is because of wounds. It's because of scars. The reason some embrace words that others despise, is because these people have either never been hurt by them, or has mended the wound better. Some have a strong enough mind to put painful things behind them, and others struggle with closing their wounds. One does not take presidency over the other, one is not entitled to say what the other one should think, and that is the problem with fixing the mess that is our world: No two people are the same.

He honestly believed it was a compliment. Digest that, because if you don't, we won't ever solve the problem. You can't just call him a bad guy, because in his world, he isn't. To a lot of sensible people, he's a jerk, but not in his mind. And that's where one has to reach. Of course you have the right to kick his ass, but at the end of the day, getting angry at him will bring you only temporary gratification. Instead talk to the person, and try to get through to him. If you attack, he's going to get defensive, because he doesn't  see himself as a bad guy, and will consider himself wrongfully accused. He will see himself as a victim. If you manage to talk to him, and get through to him, you've successfully recruited a soul to the Jedi order, whose continued existence will help bring balance to the galaxy. He might scold a friend of his for something inappropriate, who then might do the same at a later point. Don't battle ignorance with hate. Conquer the universe with love.

And to circle back to compliments, there was one event at the floor that I reacted to and that I think is worth mentioning. I loved being called sexy, except for the times when I didn't. And one time in particular stuck. I passed two guys and one of them looked at me, going "Now SHE is sexy.". Look where I emphasized. It suggests that someone else wasn't. Being sexy in comparison isn't a compliment! It's horrible! And not because I wanted to be sexy by my own merit, or because the other person wasn't (I presume?), but because suddenly, I was used as a measuring stick. How does someone else measure up to me? "On a scale of One to Celty, how sexy is that person?"

On a scale of 1 to Celty, how much do you love conventions?

I'm definitely on Celty levels of loving it!

Now I know some might think I was a bad person right there, in saying that it wasn't horrible because the other person wasn't sexy. Hear me out (because I'm getting worn out by people not paying attention), and I'll explain. Every person in the world is beautiful. Beauty can not be measured, there can't be a contest in beauty, because there's no base value, there's no Jesus of beauty, there's nothing that can be aspired for. You don't have to achieve a certain level of whatever in order to be beautiful. You're simply beautiful.  But do you know what has a value? Sexuality. And there's no escaping that. We like what we like. What needs to happen, isn't that we need to stop making people love the model body. We need to let them know that it's alright to love everyone else.  Men are often 'taught' to  love a certain body, and women are often 'taught' to aspire for a certain body. Sexuality gets buried underneath a sea of expectations. Don't teach your sons not to rape. Teach them to love.

A final word about ... well, words. A lot of people have gotten upset by the way I used the word 'objectified' before. I said that I didn't hate it, and I  get why that can be upsetting. Now this is a word that doesn't bring any good with it. There's nothing to celebrate about being objectified, because there's no compliment to be found in it. And that's just it. It's an irredeemable word! Think about that. You can't twist it into something good, because there's nothing good with being treated like an object. I could've used a word like idolized, I could've used worshiped, I could've use a  plethora of words instead of that specific word. I didn't. Why? Due to the power of words. It is there as a constant reminded that I appreciated a disgusting habit, a primary fault in society, in the beauty ideal. In using that word, I consciously chose not to sugarcoat the reality. I chose not to hide what was really going on. People don't consider it, because they got stuck at the word. THAT is how powerful it is. 

I never said that it's good to be objectified. If that's what you took from that, then you didn't pay attention. You didn't want to listen. You chose to make a villain out of me. Thing is, this is a review about my experience, and not an argument for a woman's place in society. In the grand scheme of things, this blog is inconsequential. I didn't hope to change the world with it, I didn't delude myself into believing that it would ever go anywhere. It's just my thoughts, following my experiment. If you don't like what you're reading, you're free to leave at any time. I'm not going to stop writing about what I've been through, what I've thought and how it impacted me, just because you don't like my side of the story. And yes, this part is directed at those of you who chose to make this review about all the awful things that women suffer. You chose to make it that, but that was never what it was about. So obviously it's not going to match the reality you wish for it to describe.

This review was about one guy, dressing as a girl for one weekend. And talking about it. If you don't get how limited, how delicate such an experiment is, then I understand why you get upset. Because you don't get the difference between a review, and an analysis. This isn't an analysis. I am analyzing, yes, but this is a review.

LET'S TALK ABOUT FRIENDS!

I have taken a lot of heat for much of what I've said in this blog, and people expect me to cover a massive amount more than I am currently doing, Thing is that I can't. If I split hairs and talk about everything that deserves to be talked about, this review won't ever end. Just look how much I've written about so little. So I'm only going to touch at some of those things when the opportunity presents itself, and instead focus on the things I planned on writing. If something comes up, if someone writes to me or some discussion brings up a topic that I think is important to address, then I will do so. Otherwise,  I'm going to proceed according to plan. And in that plan, there's a FRIEND section! 

Thank God for my friends, or whoever is pulling our strings! I have some of the most wonderful people in the world surrounding me. Note though that I'm not trying to diminish YOUR friends, but my world isn't your world. It's the same planet, but we live in different realities. ANYWAY! My point is that I have amazingly supportive friends, wonderful people that helped me make this weekend a reality. I wouldn't have had the courage to do this experiment, if I didn't have my friends nearby. I was so worried that everyone would see through my costume, that I'd be made fun of, that people would batter me for doing this. Before the first day had built up speed, I could've just as well gone home if not for my friends around me. This weekend was very important to me, and not just because it was Comic Con. This experiment is important to me, because I want to understand every part of life so badly! I want to hoard knowledge, and experiences, and I want to know everything that I can. And when you feel  that you've read a discussion or an argument before, you need to take the next step. My next step on the topic of gender issues, was trying the life of a girl out for myself one weekend. But if it weren't for my friends, I never would've dared.

Not just because I was afraid of ridicule, or because I didn't think I'd be able to pull off being a female, but because I'm not blind to reality. I even wanted one of my friends to come home to me in the mornings before the convention, so I didn't have to travel to the convention by myself. The journey home every dark evening was as scary as Cthulhu. In part four, I mentioned that one story, but it's not the only story. Life outside the convention was A LOT more scary than inside. I don't think I even need to say that, but I'm saying it anyway. On the first day, I didn't get more than five minutes away from home before I fell victim to sexism. And this was with my friend at my side. Get that: FIVE MINUTES into the cosplay, I was the victim of sexism. They were literally among the first people we passed. Throughout the convention, friends hugged me spontaneously, and we laughed together at all sorts of things. 

At times when I felt low at the convention, all it took was the arrival of a friend, and I was in the game again. What does this have to do with the experiment? Nothing. I just think it's important that we remember our friends, whatever we're doing. I've written a bunch of stuff that has little to do with the experiment, but that's because I'm trying to help you understand just want sort of environment my weekend took place in. My friends are amazing, wonderful pillars. Any time I was about to fall down because of one thing or another, they were there to pick me up. And not just at the convention. I'm so very secure around my friends, and that sets a mood. It impacts the way I carry myself, it gives me a sense of security that means I don't worry in certain situations that I should've worried in. A lot of tension is disarmed, because of my friends. I'm telling you this, because it's important to understand that it impacts my interpretation at times. I was in situations that weren't always safe for a girl, but I didn't always worry. You have to understand how this impacts the review and experience, 

I can talk day out and day in about how great or how awful things were, but at the end of the day, I had an overwhelming sense of security. That does things to your perception, and I can't overlook it. Even the times when I was sad, or exposed, I could often just look over my shoulder, and I'd be able to see one of my friends at one place or another. A lot of people have complained that I won't be able to give this experiment a fair perspective, and I agree. But it wasn't about creating an unbiased, pure experience. It was about trying to. And I much rather spend the convention among my friends, than stress test my experiment by going all by myself. 

Also, in case it isn't clear ... my friends are awesome. Tune in tomorrow for another post! The review is nearing its end. I think  I'm going to be able to wrap it  up in just two more entries! 

That is one bulky helmet! And those are some amazing people trying to be seen behind it!