Posts Tagged Short description

G is for Girlhood (Charlotte)

Charlotte, a wonderful writer (and a dear friend) is writing a series of blog posts all headed with a letter of the alphabet. After reading her brilliant post this morning, G is for Girlhood, I asked her whether she would be so kind and let us post it here. She’s kindly consented. Do enjoy. To all us girls, both young and old…

Being a girl was about aching for something that was always just out of reach. I existed in a state of longing for something indefinable, of permanent languid dissatisfaction. I was always stretching out, grabbing, then discarding what I had touched. I wanted the next best thing, not the thing I had.

Girlhood was about never being happy in my skin. My body was all wrong. I longed for longer legs, better skin, a smaller bum. I longed for slow, rapturous kisses that would make me forget myself. I longed to melt.

Girlhood was about waiting for the right boy to come along. I ached for a soul-mate and found him in all the wrong places. When boys did turn up, I longed for someone cooler, older, more mature. I longed for a man.

Girlhood was about never finding the right food to eat. I longed for ice-cream, then tuna, then bread and butter, then chocolate, then roast chicken, then milk with Milo. Food came and went, but never in satisfying combinations.

Girlhood was about always dreaming about being somewhere else. If I was at school, I longed to be at home. At home, I ached for my friends. With my friends, I wanted to be with a certain boy. With that boy, I wished I were at home with a book. While reading, I thought of my father.

It was a time of extremes, of being too hot, too cold, too lazy, too over-excited, too silly, too irritable, too focused, too pent-up.

I thought a lot about clothes, but they were always wrong. Whatever I wore was never as good as what that girl wore. I flipped through magazines, ached for Farah hair, Christy legs, Jodie eyes. The clothes I finally bought were dissatisfying: too tight, too loose, too short, too long, too preppy, too Gothic, too old, too new. I longed for one perfect dress.

I felt as if I couldn’t talk very well. I never seemed to say what I meant, hard though I tried. Words blocked in my throat so I stayed silent. There was so much to say. I longed to say it well. I felt as if I couldn’t. I inhibited myself.

When I was a girl, I wanted to please. So badly. I wanted to please so badly that I did things I regretted. I put others before myself, their needs before mine. I pushed my own needs down until I exploded.

To girls, I say:

Find your voice and be proud to use it.

Put your needs first.

Please yourself, not boys.

Love your body.

Live in the moment.

Find and do the thing that makes you forget yourself, that makes your heart sing.

Never stop looking for one perfect dress.


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Walking the Dog (Lia)

Middle-aged woman takes her dog for a “walk”, with it sitting in a carrier at the back of her bicycle. Nice scenery (check). Fresh air (check). Exercise (null). Opportunity to take a leak (null).

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Lady GaGa on the Bus (Lia)

Peroxide blond 20-year-old/bighair dawned with red headband/diamond nose piercing/ black leather trousers/ razor pointed boots with stiletto heels/a black and silver faux leather handbag with glitter heart and “The Billion Dollar Babe Club (Buy Pink Label)” appliqué on the side/ texting her boyfriend on her red mobile phone while chewing gum.

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Wobbly Voice (Lia)

Sara and I were walking downtown late this afternoon in search of the ultimate cowboy boots (for Sara). A wobbly child’s voice singing a popular nursery rhyme emotes from a passing wheeled carrier attached behind a bicyclist. It was such an enchanting moment. Both Sara and I became rather nostalgic, for it wasn’t so long ago that she and I used to ride on my bicycle. Not in one of these fancy wheeled carriers, but a nifty children’s seat. Those were the days.

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Kissing Fish (lia)

Last night, I overheard a conversation in a restaurant that took place between two young women. They were talking about fish: trout, bass, soul, catfish,… it was rather strange to hear them enthuse about these fish and their various attributes. At one point, I swear the one woman started on about what it is like to “have been” kissed by a fish. Or, maybe she was talking about “having seen” fish kissing… wonder which. One of those life mysteries I’ll never know the answer too.

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Children can be so mean (lia)

A little fat girl on her way to grade school, stands by the street light waiting for the light to turn. She’s dressed in her favourite skirt and sweater. A bright ribbon holds back her dark wavy curls. A schoolmate of hers passes on the way to the bakery to pick up bread rolls for her family.

This is one of those perfect princess girls that plagues all of our childhoods. You can tell by the way she walks, by the say she swishes her hair back over her shoulders.

The one girl waves at the little princess and says a bright hello. The princess runs pass her, almost not noticing her, and then only making a response of, “You are way too early”.

I look upon this scene from my living room window and can see by the change in the girl’s posture that she’s registered it all: her outfit is wrong, her hair is wrong, she’s even wrong to want to go to school early… I want to tell her that the princess is wrong, or that she didn’t really mean to be mean, she’s just unthinking, which when you come down to it, is probably the same thing.

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Too busy (lia)

You know when your day is going to be too busy, when there is no more space in your calendar to write in another appointment.

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