From Girly-Girl, to Tomboy, back to Girly-Girl

I am told that when I was a young child, I was strange. I refused to wear anything but dresses, but then I also demanded the right to climb trees, so my mother solved this problem by getting me bloomers to match each of my dresses. (My daughter also has this same issue, so I just make sure she’s always wearing shorts beneath her dresses.)

There was this issue, along with my mother’s love of putting curlers in my hair at night. The top of my hair didn’t curl, of course, but the bottom did – making me look like a 5-year-old Princess Leia, except with curls instead of buns. This, I suppose, was my first girly-girl stage. I begged to wear make-up, and was obviously told no, but… on to the years I actually remember.

I suppose I eventually rebelled, because all I can really remember is wearing jeans with holes in the knees, and ratty t-shirts through my middle school and high school years. I wore no makeup, avoided perfumes, my hair was always in a ponytail or beneath a hat, I wore mandles more than sandles, and getting me in a dress was like trying to dress a skunk in a tutu. The picture to the right shows my thrilled expression given when I was told I needed to wear anything to make me resemble a girl.

When I was 19 (a month from turning 20), I got married. I looked like a girl there, but I swear it was someone else’s doing. Tiffany did wonders with my makeup, and I spent countless hours in a beautician’s chair to get my hair to look decent. I think it included about five full cans of hairspray, as well. How do I know? Well, it took me about three showers to get my hair to come down after the ceremony. I took all of the bobby pins out (I counted 33 of them), and the hair stayed exactly in place. That was some majorly strong hairspray!

The “looking like a girl” only lasted for the ceremony, however. During the rehearsal, I was up to my usual very mature and lady-like tricks. As you can likely see, the whole looking like a girl was just a one day illusion.

As I became older, I met a friend named Rhonda. She did a lot in trying to get me to be a girl again. She bought me pink things, encouraged me to do my makeup and hair, and I started dying my hair – just for fun! It lasted through my pregnancy (whom she was there for me whole time – love that woman), and I even had to wear a formal for Prom while all rounded. I swear I wasn’t high school age here – I just happened to be a teacher and I had to go. At this point, I was 23, almost 24.

See? This was taken two months (about) before I had the babies, and I totally looked like a girl. The day before I had my babies, though, I went completely biker chick. My husband wanted to have one last splurge before every cent we made turned into taking care of the kids, so he got himself a motorcycle. And I posed on it. Le rawr?

After my pregnancy, however, I was back to normal. Ponytails, ill-fitting clothing, and now deep circles under the eyes could be added. (Yay for having twins!) I dressed like a girl for work, of course, because I had to. However, hair was always back, and makeup was never present. Heck, I was doing all I could to drag myself out of bed every morning, actually dolling myself up was far too much to ask for.

As the children grew, I didn’t get any more girly (at first). We took them to Disneyland when they were 3 years old, and I think people wondered if I’d been a teenager when I had them. (I think they also thought my husband was my father – but that’s beside the point.) It might have been the visor, the tucked under pigtails, and the clothes that caused these images. My husband and I had already been two years before, so we at least knew what we were doing while carrying around incredibly excited three year olds.

I made a lot of life changes between the years of 26 and 29. I went through some rough times, and I grew more in those three years than I had in, perhaps, my entire lifetime up until that point. (Uhm, emotional/spiritual/maturity growth – not height. Man, would that have been weird! Though, I suppose I did also grow a little bit around the middle.) I grew as a person, as a mother, and as a (GASP!) woman.

Suddenly, dresses weren’t so taboo anymore – darn that I didn’t wear them so long, though. Now my legs refuse to tan, or even freckle!

Suddenly, makeup wasn’t so evil. In fact, I buy far too much of it, and I greatly enjoy playing with it to look for new “looks”, or even just to be silly.

Suddenly, I really, really liked jewelry. Really, really, really!

So, now, I greatly enjoy doing my makeup, and now I love feeling all.. spiffy when wearing a pretty dress. So, I suppose this is just a notice to all you mothers who are worried that there is no hope for your tomboy daughters. There is hope! Hey, I had to be nearly 30 before I finally became a girl again. (Hey, my birthday was a few days ago – feel free to send me some jewelry for a present, if you’d like! And… I swear I’m still 29. For the next five years, at least, I’m 29.)