femininity

Being a Drag Queen isn't one-size-fits-all femininity. Not all real life women are glamorous and fabulous at all times, nor should we feel we have to be.

One of the things I have done for myself in adulthood as part of my healing process is make a strong claim to fatness femininity.

Many asexual women say that their asexuality affects how they express femininity, which often goes against the grain of typical feminine expectations.

If a man isn’t attracted to me because of my hair, it tells me two things: Number one, he has a one-dimensional perception of femininity. Number two, he’s an asshat.

I guess we are all guilty of gender-typing to some degree. It’s ingrained deep in our subconscious and culture. Everywhere we go: shopping malls, in the media, play groups, schools, public bathrooms — and the list goes on. But is it possible to shift the dialogue when it comes to teaching masculinity to boys?

For centuries — since the days of ancient Egypt, in fact — women have been going to immense lengths to remove their body hair. Plucking, shaving, buffing, stripping and even burning away that supposedly “unsightly,” “masculine” thicket of fuzz. But now, women are being encouraged to embrace their body hair in a thoroughly 21st century way: a viral hashtag.

When I was a teenager, I felt very certain that I was not a feminist. I didn’t exactly understand the textbook definition of feminism, but I had a pretty good sense from the negative connotation I had gleaned while growing up in a narrowly Christian setting.

To worship all that is masculine often means to frame oneself in opposition to those in the LGBT community. The attitudes and values of that community do make room for the masculine, but predominantly veer toward the gentle, the soft, the empathetic, the sunny, the good-humored, the multicolored, and the spirited.