Breaking up with Femininity

Femininity and I are old friends. Well, she’s more of an acquaintance as of late. These changing times have reduced our interaction recently, we don’t engage in the same routines the way we used to. We met when I was rather young, around two years old. My earliest memories of her in my life entwine with princess dresses and pink clothing. I imagine having two sisters follow me at such a young age developed her presence in my early years, as it was easier to group us all together with the same interests and clothing. When I look back at photos of us three growing up, I see Femininity staring back at me – she’s there in my smile, my favourite dress, my pigtails, my sparkly shoes. She was a part of me, and I embraced her with open arms. I never questioned my interest in Femininity, our connection wasn't something that I had ever had to force before.

However as I progressed into my teenage years, I felt the need to cling onto Femininity more than I had before. I noticed that in my natural state, - makeup free, neutral clothing, un-styled hair – I could not feel her presence whatsoever. I didn’t feel overly masculine necessarily, it was this weird in-between state which didn’t let me feel like my true self, or feel comfortable in who I was. I started engaging in regular routines, such as making an effort to choose clothes which made me feel closer to femininity and learning how to apply makeup to enhance features of my face which looked pretty. Once she and I had worked together, it was like a switch was flicked from within me. I felt seen, I felt comfortable.

Femininity and I entered adulthood hand in hand, with a sense of confidence and assurance. She and I regularly engaged in those routines, and our time together enabled me to branch out into new opportunities and experiences such as the dating world. However, this is where our relationship began to get rocky.

Growing up, I had been taught about aspects of the gay community and its developing normalisation in society. What I was unaware of at the time however, was that sexuality is actually considered to be a spectrum and that there were more options than just the two I had been presented with – Gay or Straight. My relationship with Femininity had led me to become aware of my attraction to the male gender rather early on in my years, which led me to feel comfortable in the fact I believed I was straight. This inevitably led to severe confusion and sexual frustration when I began experiencing attraction to females also, because I had been told I had to pick one and I had already chosen men. The lesbian community at the time had also commonly been stereotyped to have a significantly distant relationship with Femininity, therefore assuring me that I was not fitting into this label because Femininity and I were thick as thieves. I didn’t fit the box, so I pushed these thoughts and feelings to the back of my mind in the hopes they would melt away. I had no such luck.

At the age of nineteen I found my mind to be constantly flicking between the thought of my female high school crush's sweet rosy smile and my then boyfriend’s handsome, cheeky grin. I was in my first relationship, and Femininity was playing a strong part in maintaining that. She would tell me that I needed to present myself to a certain standard or else I would no longer be considered attractive.

My sexuality scared me, and it took me a really long time to realise that identifying as bisexual did not mean having to break up with Femininity. Bisexuality first presented itself to me when watching videos on YouTube. There were girls on there, who looked similar to me, confidently chatting about being attracted to both women and men. A fellow Irish creator, Melanie Murphy, who I watched regularly, would often refer to herself as a “Femme” bisexual. She explained that she identified with this term as she too had a strong attachment to Femininity and enjoyed maintaining that connection even when dating women. Discovering bisexuality was an eye opener for me because I could finally stop feeling like I had to choose between a relationship with women or with Femininity – I could have both!

So this brings us to today, as I mentioned I’ve not seen Femininity in a while. I didn’t really notice her absence at first. It was sort of a realisation that crept up on me when I went to rely on her and noticed she was no longer there. Being in a national lockdown had slowly caused me to stop wearing outfits I liked daily which had previously kept that connection with Femininity solid. I had stopped putting on makeup, painting my nails and engaging in pretty much all of the rituals that Femininity and I would bond over. I imagine she eventually stopped waiting for me to reconnect with her and took the high road. I’ve not seen her since. I became consciously aware of her absence a few months ago. I’ve been doing my best to try and welcome her back into my life ever since, but I’m still yet to see her in my reflection. Other people see her when they look at me, because on the surface, we as humans tend to rely on a person’s look as the keyhole into their personality and soul. But they don’t know I’ve just been pretending. I put makeup on, I consciously wear pink and florals, just like we used to do together. I fake her presence in an attempt for her to feel comfortable enough to return, and so that others don’t realise she’s gone. They don’t notice, its only me who misses her. Her absence makes me question my actions daily, and leaves me wondering who I am without her.

With Femininity gone for the time being, I decided it was worth digging into her past to see if she had flaked on others before, or why she mattered so much in the first place. It was interesting to learn that Femininity was actually constructed as a social and cultural element for women to engage with, but that men had dominated her overtime. Nowadays, Femininity’s presence in women is often used as a scale for men to be satisfied by a woman’s appearance, however this should never be the case. "Women do not exist to satisfy the Male Gaze" – this feminist term is commonly used by Florence Given, a female activist who has taught me a lot about Femininity in recent months. She often talks about how women are not required to inherently appear feminine for anyone’s gain, only to satisfy their own comfort. I do think that to a certain extent I relied on my previous relationship with Femininity to satisfy the male gaze. I don’t know why I have felt the need to appear attractive to men; sometimes even men I don’t care about. Maybe it’s a result of being brought up in a society run by men. It’s definitely a habit which needs to be unlearned.

I see Femininity represented in others that pass me by in daily life, sometimes in the form of women, sometimes men, and occasionally in regular people who don’t fit either of those identities. I wonder whether they are happy with the relationship they have with Femininity, whether they too are faking her presence or simply can’t get a moment away from her.

Upon reflection, I do have a theory that Femininity had been aware of my dependency on her for a while now. I was definitely a bit clingy, and maybe I should have given her more space and experimented with other styles and appearances to feel more comfortable without her. We were together for over 20 years, and my reliance on her for my confidence was suffocating. As with any breakup, I’ve gone through the 5 stages of grief – Denial, where I engaged in our old behaviours in an attempt she would return. Anger, where I felt frustrated and confused in who I was without her. Bargaining, which consisted of trying to come to terms with being on my own, but maintaining strong elements of our previous relationship. Depression, where I wallowed in self-loathing, feeling as though I would never look in the mirror again without feeling disgust. And finally, Acceptance. I think this is where I am at now. I have accepted that she is gone, and that there is a strong possibility she may never return. I have to be grateful for the time I got to spend with Femininity, and all the things she taught me. Femininity taught me that it was possible to love myself, to feel attractive and to be accepted. Just because she is no longer here does not change those facts, I am still worthy of all those things. Deep down I believe she left because she knew I was now capable of achieving all those things on my own – I didn’t need her anymore. Even at the age of twenty-three, I’m constantly growing, learning and developing my mind. And while it has taken a while to make peace with her absence, I know Femininity will never really leave me because I carry her in every moment we shared together and every lesson she taught me.